Ravina was sitting at a fine white wooden desk in the grand library. She enjoyed the comfortable chair, carefully carved from wood and upholstered with leather and padding. She even had a favorite seat, one where she could relax while watching people move around outside. Perched two stories up, on the third floor, she took pleasure in watching them mill about the square like ants. This vantage point provided a wonderful respite from reading the books that were scribe by hand, and never by the same person.
She had visited this place many times before, but never had she stayed so long. Previously, she always looked forward to adventures in the woods, but lately, that allure had faded. Consequently, she found herself reading a few books a day. Despite the scribes' efforts, these books, typically less than 100 pages, were easy to speed read—depending on the mood and the handwriting. However, Ravina suspected she spent more time staring out the window than reading.
The Market of Knowledge—that was the name of the square she was observing. It was aptly named to embody the idea of free knowledge. Of course, 'free' held different meanings for the nobility than for the peasants. The library, officially known as The House of Knowledge, was a private institution made accessible only to the nobility. It spanned three floors, with the privileged allowed on the first floor, the esteemed granted access to the second, and only the truly exceptional permitted to enjoy the cozy confines of the third.
Constructed from white stone imported from the holy city, the luxurious building contrasted sharply with the darker backdrop of the rest of the city. Its glistening walls were meant to symbolize a brighter future. However, as with many things, their appeal faded over time. Only nobles who could ill afford the cost of maintaining their own libraries frequented the institute. The others were merely curious, wondering about its contents. This allowed Ravina to enjoy the solitude of the empty third floor. Its open design enabled her to sit in thought, breathing easily, though her mind was anything but calm today.
Despite the tranquility of her surroundings, turmoil churned within her. She made no progress in her book, repeatedly reading the same line before losing focus. At that moment, she had completely forgotten which book she had chosen. After watching a well-dressed man buy what appeared to be a pendant from a jewelry stand, she set the book aside. "I don't know why it bothers me this much," she whispered to herself. Why should she care about the continuation of the Ravenshield name? She wasn’t a Ravenshield, after all.
Yet, it did bother her. His actions made it clear that this was a challenge, and it lingered in her thoughts. The count had looked rather smug, watching her struggle during her introduction to them. His bemused smile continued to mock her in her memories.
Clearly, the count wanted her to win over those three. He aimed to turn the neutral party into allies, despite the fact that they should have already chosen their allegiance, especially after 12 long years. Ravina hummed in slight annoyance, her foot tapping against the tile floor. With an exasperated sigh, she raised her hand to summon an attendant. One of the perks of an aristocratic library was the service, though it was a privilege reserved for aristocrats.
“Yes, my lady?” the attendant inquired. Ravina's gaze fell upon the speaker, a woman slightly more attractive than average, clad in a simple green dress with a white apron. A silver badge, engraved with the library's logo, adorned her chest, signifying her high-ranking position. She was a familiar sight to the young girl as she was the attention who almost always assisted her. She smiled at Ravina, hands clasped in front of her, her golden eyes sparkling in the natural sunlight streaming through the window.
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“Bring me a pen and paper,” Ravina requested.
“Of course,” the attendant replied, bowing slightly before departing. She returned shortly with the requested items, accompanied by another attendant who brought tea. Ravina's raised eyebrow prompted an explanation. “As you have been working diligently for the past few hours, we thought you might enjoy some Joyce tea,” the attendant explained with a bright smile, her golden eyes reflecting sincerity. It was then that Ravina realized the smile was not practiced, but genuine.
Confused, Ravina forced a smile to reciprocate the attendant's warmth. "Thank you," she said, nodding and wondering for the first time if tipping was customary here, though she had never seen it done before.
"Of course," the attendants replied, their smiles widening. They left to return to their posts, ready to assist other library patrons as needed.
Ravina's hand reached for the cup, then hesitated. She paused, examining the thin white cup adorned with a pink floral pattern, resting on a saucer. A strange thought crossed her mind. No one really knew who she was here, so the likelihood of the tea being poisoned was slim... But why had they brought her tea without her asking for it?
The memory of the attendant's genuine smile returned to her. "What am I thinking?" she chided herself, shaking her head and bringing the cup closer. The tea was pleasantly sweet with a hint of tartness. "It's quite good," she admitted, feeling a blush of embarrassment. "How silly of me," she murmured with an amused smile, setting the teacup down. She then turned her attention to the blank paper before her. "Right then," she muttered, uncorking the ink bottle and dipping her pen into the well.
"Spear, sword, and feather," she wrote delicately, her small, untrained hand making a mess of the English language. Even if it were known in this world, few would understand its scribbles.
"The key to the elders' loyalty… How poetic," she mused. The next words she wrote were 'Guard', 'Internal Affairs', and 'Trade(?)'. She connected each word with a line to the corresponding object. Tapping her finger on the table, she wondered, "Where should I even begin?" Her soft tapping filled the air as she scrutinized her work, then crossed out 'Spear'. "Not him. If he's gone, I can't do anything about that, can I?" She mused, aware that ink couldn't be erased. 'Trade' was a very broad category, after all. "He never even said what he does," she thought, dismissing it.
"A feather and a sword... their roles are the opposite of what they should be," she chuckled at her own subtle joke. Her pen trailed ink as she circled 'Sword', tapping the word twice. The fresh ink obscured the word beneath. "William didn't want to be bothered, and that's fine with me, leaving the Madam—Internal Affairs. It would be prudent to have an esteemed elder teach me the ropes."
She slid the paper closer, beginning to draft a rudimentary plan to sway 'Sword' to her side. Yet, her hand flinched to a stop. "Why am I trying to win their favor? It won't..." Overcome by doubt, she dropped the pen and crumpled the paper, but didn't discard it. Instead, she stared at the crinkled sheet, ink staining her skin.
With a sigh of frustration, she smoothed out the paper. "This is ridiculous," she grumbled, yet picked up the pen again. "Nevertheless, learning from her is wise, and I can play the dutiful daughter for the count. It's the least I could do."
With her free hand, she took another sip of the sweet, slightly tart tea, contemplating how to gain the elder woman's trust.