Mydea poured a measure of an Edenian literati’s powdered tongue over her father’s notebook, enough to translate a few lines at most. The greatest variations in using translation spells resulted from the spell reagent being of poor quality. Given Aelisium was within the Everbloom’s borders now, it wasn’t difficult to find a merchant selling the ingredient even though the dialect was more commonly spoken further south in the region.

With a whisper of words and a surge of will, she empowered the powder to act...

Mydea sighed and leaned into her chair. The powder dissolved into the page, but her father’s neat cursive remained unchanged. This was the third translation spell she’d tried in as many days, and with each failure, she had even less of an idea as to what it could be. Many regional dialects loaned each other words, and the fact that not a single word had been translated suggested to her one of three things.

First, that the reagent she had used was too weak, either having been improperly powdered or that the tongue was acquired from someone illiterate in her targeted language. This was least likely to her, as few merchants within Aelisium would dare defraud a stoneborn guest of the Empress. That was just poor business practice.

Second, that her father had just invented a language wholesale. It wasn’t out of the question, but seemed a tad extreme given languages weren’t his forte. If he had done so, there was nothing she could do to crack his code.

Third, and most likely, was that it was a language she’d never heard of and likely not spoken in the Empire. It still struck her as rather improbable, but with Kolchis’ resources available to him, her father could have easily stumbled upon one and decided to learn it. He had no shortage of time to do so while Mydea and her brother were attending the athenaeum.

Whatever the case, she was running out of avenues to explore. Running out of time for the morning too, Mydea noted with a glance at the sun in the sky. She’d just have to wait for Hystor Jorge’s diviner acquaintance to call on her.

She stood, as someone knocked on the door, and buried her father’s notebook deep within her trunk. “Come in.”

Troia strolled in followed by Ida. Both wore the traditional palace maid's uniform for formal events—black dresses with white trims, and ruffled half-aprons tied at the waist. Their full skirts ended just above the knees, and a black lace garters and tights covered their lower legs. Their heels were only half an inch in height, which was as tall as was legal for the common strawborn.

“Lady Vivyan Black requests entrance,” Troia said.

“Show her in, Ida,” Mydea said, standing. The timid girl hurried to the door. “Troia, help me into my dress. I want to be on my way once I’m done with Vivyan.” The hystors had seen to her burned hand a few days ago, and they’d broken whatever curse was laid upon her. It was a simple affair to heal her injury after that.

Troia bobbed her head, and picked up the gown laid out on the bed. It was a low-cut dress of sea green velvet, with slashed sleeves to contrast with the white layer beneath it. The door opened audibly as Mydea changed.

“Changing already?” Vivyan asked. “You seem awfully excited for your tea party.”

“Of course I am,” Mydea said. “It’s my first hosting.”

“Your first hosting in Aelisium, you mean,” Vivyan said. When Mydea didn’t answer, her eyes widened. “Wait, don’t tell me this is your first hosting ever?”

“I’m not that green,” Mydea said, “but it is my first hosting where the guestlist was not just filled with the family retainers.”

Vivyan seated herself on a high-backed chair and crossing her slender legs. “I’m honestly more surprised your family’s vassals bothered to attend. There was a time when everyone thought House Kolchis was at its end.”

“Those days are long past,” Mydea said.

Now that Aspyr and herself were of age, the threat of being snuffed out had subsided, though their house was still struggling against decline. Should Aspyr do well in the raids, that would further cement House Kolchis’ place as a house external in the eyes of their vassals too. It would not be enough by itself to force Lord Pleonexia to recognize them, but it might be enough to win Aspyr a place among the Order of the Stone Shield.

Aelisium was not made to float in a single day.

“Some would disagree,” Vivyan said.

Mydea raised a brow at her. “Do you dare say you know Lord Eminent Pleonexia’s mind?”

“I dare not,” Vivyan said quickly.

“Of course.” Mydea nodded. “After all, he does not keep House Black in close confidence.”

Vivyan flushed in anger. “At least we are not held in contempt.”

Mydea smiled at her. “If today goes as planned, that chapter of my family’s history might be behind us too.”

Vivyan’s anger shifted into befuddlement. “How so?” Vivyan asked. “I’ve seen your guestlist. While you’ve cast your net wide, the most noteworthy invitees are the half noble daughters of lords nominal. Hardly anyone with true influence.”

“That’s no accident,” Mydea said. “This was done at Prince-Consort Pythos’ behest. It’s a calculated move, and a rather brilliant one at that.” Without even lifting a finger, House Pleonexia would be silencing any whispers that the Deepland aristocracy was beneath the attentions of the House Imperial, while remaining uncommitted to any of the formed factions.

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“You think this is reconciliation?” Vivyan asked skeptically.

“It’s a start,” Mydea said. She looked herself over in the mirror, and nodded to herself. “Troia, with me for the final inspection. It’s imperative that everything be perfect. Ida, you’re dismissed for half a bell. Be sure you make yourself present before the party begins.

“Yes, my lady,” both said in unison, curseying to her. Ida slipped out of the room in a rush.

Vivyan stood as well, and straightened out the creases in her outfit. “I suppose I should be taking my leave as well.”

“Not so fast,” Mydea said. “There’s a reason I asked you to call on me this morning. I’m invoking my one use of your shadow now.”

“Now?” Vivyan asked. Her eyes narrowed. “You want me to use my family’s signature spell to shadow a maid?”

“Don’t be so insulted, Vivyan,” Mydea said. “We stipulated there would be little chance of entrapment for you, and that doesn’t leave me with any options that aren’t strawborn now, does it?”

Vivyan let out a huff, blowing aside a stray strand of black hair. “I have half the mind to refuse you.”

“So quick to break your oath?” Mydea asked. "A shame. You have such lovely nails too."

“You did not keep to the spirit of yours either,” Vivyan said. “Really, goading me whilst we were with Prince Jaeson’s valet? I know you know you will not wed the prince, but do try to leave a favorable impression on people at least.”

“My oath only stipulated that I introduce you to Tomas, and my obligation ended as soon as I did,” Mydea said. She showed Vivyan the back of her hand and wiggled her fingers. “My nails are still fine, so I am judged right. As for what Tomas thinks of me, that’s none of your concern.”

There was a reason the hystors kept stressing that oaths be worded precisely. Not all the gods cared for what was intended, only what was stated. If Vivyan had required her to introduce and facilitate, Mydea could not have done what she did.

Vivyan gave her a look of sheer exasperation. “You truly are without friends. To introduce someone goes beyond the act of arranging the meeting, Mydea. It is to help by finding common interests over which deeper bonds may be formed. You did nothing of the sort with your provocation.”

“You did not have to let yourself be provoked,” Mydea said.

“Once,” Vivyan said with a scowl. “Just once, you couldn’t have pretended to be pleasant?”

I could leave her fate to the Gods Above, Mydea thought, but while it might be satisfying to see her nails torn out, it will not get me what I want. That it had not happened yet showed she was not truly set on breaking her word yet.

“How is that knight of yours these days?” Mydea asked, suddenly changing topics. “His name was Sir Argus, I believe?” It had taken her a few days of digging through the Record of Sigils to find a name to the face.

Vivyan stiffened. “He is my father’s knight. Why do you say he is mine?”

Mydea smiled sweetly at her. “Because he follows your orders so well. Did you really think I wouldn’t know it was you who sent him to bar my brother’s path to Aelisium over a month ago, when he sought an audience with the Empress? I do wonder what the Empress might think of that.”

“This is slander.” Her fists visibly clenched and Vivyan’s face turned pale.

“I have no proof,” Mydea admitted, and Vivyan looked relieved. “But I hardly need any to start a rumor. Once word spreads, well, I can’t imagine it would help your odds of marrying into the House Imperial.”

“Everyone would know you were the source,” Vivyan said.

“There’d be no proof,” Mydea said.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Vivyan said. “It would ruin your own chances too.”

Mydea giggled. “Vivyan, I think you misunderstand something. I don’t want to marry Prince Jaeson. What do I care about ruining my own chances?”

“Fine,” she answered through gritted teeth.

Mydea watched intently as Vivyan’s shadow detached itself from her, and snaked out of the room after Ida.

Vivyan fumed in silence for a few minutes. When she had calmed down some again, she asked, “You really suspect your maid is a spy?”

“I’m sure of it,” Mydea said.

“How do you know she’ll be reporting to her benefactor right now?”

“After you so helpfully asked me the right questions earlier?” Mydea said. It was no mere coincidence that Vivyan had asked, having been led to the question by Mydea herself. If she hadn’t though, Troia would’ve asked in her place. “Potential reconciliation between Kolchis and Pleonexia is no small matter within the Deeplands.”

“You really think someone residing in the Imperial Palace would care about that?”

Mydea shrugged. “If someone’s taken an interest in me, this is as close to a secret as they’ll get. Anyone who’s played this game doesn’t pin their hopes on such a lowly spy to bring them the truly sordid secrets.” It was not simply hope that Mydea counted on too.

No doubt Ida was feeling on edge after the harsh punishment Mydea had issued Khloe, the other palace maid, for her tardiness. Serving as a scullery maid was not easy, and that’d go doubly so for Ida who, judging by her callous-free hands, had been spared from the harder tasks of a lowly servant. Ida had narrowly escaped such a fate, and her fear was evident in how quickly she moved about her tasks since.

Now, Mydea had given her a rare chance to be away from Troia’s watching eyes, just enough time to rush to one side of the palace and back again. How could she not report in given the confluence of means, motive, and opportunity Mydea had arranged, unbeknownst to her?

Rushing would be her undoing though. Not only would it lead Vivyan’s shadow straight to whoever was spying on Mydea, she’d be too eager to realize she was being followed. A trained, but unaware, stoneborn would have difficulty realizing they were being followed so surreptitiously. To an untrained and unaware strawborn maidservant, the risks to Vivyan were practically nil.

“Will you be making use of my room?” Mydea asked. She expected her to. It was only good practice for a Black to hide themself away while using their shadow, for anyone who cared to look would know she was making a move.

“If it’s no bother,” Vivyan said.

“Just send me word when you’re done,” Mydea said. “Troia, see that Lady Vivyan is comfortable. I’ll manage the inspection on my own.” And if Vivyan tried anything herself, Troia would tell her. She was an athenaeum graduate too after all.