Athena frowned at the set of five matching knives, hanging from the keyring beside the coil of piano wire in her locker. They’d been completely useless when she’d gotten kidnapped, a blemish on her record that left her wondering if the Exaltare had her rescued just for the satisfaction of slaughtering the maid personally.

 She ran her finger across the full set, bringing the enchantment to life as they lifted off of the ring and hovered in front of her. With a simple mental command, they carefully drifted down and inserted themselves into a padded storage container.

 Tucking the wire into a compartment in her phone case, the plainclothes maid gave the empty locker a final look.

 “It’ll be strange, not using this room anymore…”

 “No way.”

 An incredulous voice came from right beside her, the locker door slamming shut as a coveralls-clad woman with long pink hair sneered at her. More surprising than the presence of Saraya Idra was the fact that her two cronies were nowhere to be seen.

 Also, according to the schedule posted on the wall, she was still supposed to be on duty.

 “I wouldn’t expect you to be in dereliction of your duties, Miss Idra,” Athena tutted.

 The oh-so-great fourth-generation custodian scoffed, “Unlike a certain someone, I get my work done quickly. But what is this?”

 She made a sweeping gesture with her hand at the pair of small cardboard boxes set on the bench, and the attache case that housed Athena’s knives.

 Even though she was merely a single generation more “pure” than Athena, Saraya loved to lord it over her at every opportunity, and always acted with haughty arrogance whenever she was in the Ochros dropout’s presence. Nevermind that she acted just as servile when it came to her betters.

 “Don’t tell me you actually got fired?” She couldn’t mask the amusement in her tone.

 “Of course not. Her Majesty hand-picked me to serve in her private chambers for a reason, Miss Idra.” Athena bent her knees and bowed her head. “Good work is far preferable to fast work.”

 At first, her provocations bothered Athena, but after having her accomplishments and fealty acknowledged—and being assigned to the darling little princess as a personal handmaiden—it was laughable just how petty Saraya’s attempts at harassment were.

 It’d become obvious that the source of her anger was envy, like she was a schoolgirl bullying someone for getting better grades.

 Saraya’s face briefly twisted in displeasure as she fell for Athena’s provocation, though like any member originating from a noble household would, she quickly mastered her emotions and returned to her usual sneer as she deflected.

 “Oh please, as if I’m anywhere near as awful as those buffoons hired from the Harken family. Did you know they didn’t even clean all the bloodstains off the tiles after the Executioner dealt with the traitor ghoul?”

 “And who was responsible for instructing the lower floor custodians? I believe it was Miss Taiget…”

 “I’m hardly responsible for what those two get up to, even if they cling to my coattails. Quit dodging the question, Ochros. Why are you packing up, if you weren’t discharged?”

 “I would sooner have Her Majesty take my life than let me go,” Athena huffed indignantly. “If you must know, I’m being relocated to the Exaltare’s private wing, effective immediately.”

 Saraya blinked twice in response to Athena’s rather casual revelation. “Wh… What!?”

 Athena sorely wanted to avoid explaining the reason why, considering how shameful it was that she’d been caught off guard in the first place. That Her Majesty had to go out of her way to move Athena from her own home to a guest room in her private wing was both the height of shame and also far, far more than someone like her deserved.

 Though it pained her to do so, she’d rather put on airs that it was a deserved honor in reward for her service. Preposterous as it was.

 “It seems that I am being rewarded for my service and given a private room in—”

 “PREPOSTEROUS!” Saraya clenched her fists. “You mean to tell me that a bumbling idiot who got herself abducted by a bunch of no-lifes got a promotion for it!?”

 Athena’s eyes narrowed. “Who said anything about an abduction?”

 Saraya recoiled as though she’d been stabbed, raising her arm defensively in front of herself.

 Athena glanced down at her attache case, her fingers twitching slightly as she considered humoring the other custodian's gesture with an actual knife.

 “If not that, then what? Are you telling me you just took half a week off for no reason? You? The person who’s never used a single day of PTO?”

 “Maybe I caught a cold. Saraya, answer me. Why do you think I was abducted!?”

 “Even if you were vomiting blood, you’d still try to come into work. As you so helpfully state at any possible opportunity, you’d sooner die than fail to serve Her Majesty.” The pink-haired custodian turned away, hiding her expression from Athena. “If you must know, I overheard it from Alicia. I didn’t think much of it at the time—just that it was funny something like that could happen to you of all people—but…”

 She trailed off, letting an awkward silence fill the air as Athena took a near-silent step forward, thumb rubbing against the retractable steel wire's compartment on her phone case. Saraya had given the name of one of her tagalongs—Alicia Astrope. A lesser house beneath the sprawling Idra family.

 The maid had no intention of being caught off guard twice; she craned her ears, trying to hear if Saraya’s “friends” were in fact lurking nearby.

 “Go on,”

 “…Something serious is going on, isn’t it? I know better than to pry into Her Majesty’s affairs, but it's clear she’s protecting you from something.”

 Saraya spun on the spot to wag her finger at Athena, her eyes widening as she saw the maid inches away from her with the razor-thin wire in her hands.

 She raised her own hands in front of her defensively.

 “What th— Wait! Hold on a second! I didn’t do anything to you! I wasn’t even sure if she was telling the truth!”

 “And where is Alicia now?”

 “Like I'd know that! She got assigned to a different section of the palace this week. I’m not gonna question the taskmaster or House Idra, even when they slip their forked tongue into the palace’s managerial affairs.”

 “Your disloyalty to Her Majesty has been noted.”

 “Says the psycho threatening one of her palace workers with piano wire unprompted.”

 “You just admitted that you had clandestine knowledge of my abduction, Saraya.”

 “Who said you could address me like that!?”

 The two of them remained in that awkward pose, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with the wire in Athena’s hands.

 After what felt like a minute had passed, Saraya slumped her shoulders and lowered her guard.

 “Whatever, listen, I’m just trying to keep my head low. It’s clear that something is going on. If you want, I can ask Alicia about it.”

 “I’d prefer you didn’t. I’ll inform Her Majesty so that she may launch an investigation at her leisure.”

 “Do you think she’ll actually follow through with that, with everything going on in the Geolle Republic?”

 “…You sound as though you have an idea, Miss Idra.”

 “I’ll… see if I can figure out who Alicia’s been talking to. I didn’t really take you for the type to get even though.”

 “I have no interest in revenge, I merely wish to ensure the safety of Her H—ghbbnlnk!”

 Carelessly dropping her own guard, Athena’s tongue caught between her teeth as the geas placed upon her prevented her from mentioning Princess Lycoris. Grasping her neck with one of her hands, the wire snapped back into her phone like a loosed tape measure.

 “The hell? You alright there, Athena?”

 “Y-Yes, I’m fine. I was just a bit careless. Her Majesty has—gghbllmprhph! …”

 “You are such a weirdo. Whatever, I’ll look into it. Would probably be good to cover my own backside as well after all.”

 “A prudent decision.”

 Athena turned away with a huff, scooping up the bundle of belongings into her arms. Convinced that her long-standing, self-proclaimed rival of sorts wasn’t the one behind the recent events threatening Her Highness—or herself—she began making her way toward the exit.

 “Also Ochros,”

 “Yes?”

 Athena glanced back towards her with a slight twinge of concern. Saraya Idra was frowning deeply, looking away with her arms crossed. She was clearly upset, but eked out a begrudging compliment all the same.

 “Er… Congratulations, on your promotion.”

 ＊　＊　＊

 Tethos spied Cedric seated at the usual table in the far back, supping from a glass of Avnas Red as he approached unescorted. It was the Speaker’s personal preference to be alone whenever possible, as he claimed attendants only ever distracted him from his brooding and scheming.

 The thought alone was enough to make Tethos' eyes roll back in his head.

 Even though Cedric enjoyed his “solitude,” he of course kept an entire restaurant worth of loyal pawns around as bodyguards—or just bodies. They didn't seem like they'd really amount to much if an actual fight were to break out, by Tethos' standards at least.

 Tethos looked around at the people idly chatting and enjoying their evening dinners as he passed by, letting out a thoughtful hum as he listened to the obviously scripted conversations. They might as well have been reciting Lorem Ipsum at each other.

 “Ochros,” Cedric called to him as he drew close, smiling affably and extending a hand towards the chair opposite him. He naturally remained seated the entire time.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

 “Your Grace,” the green haired man doffed his bowler hat and bowed deeply, before taking the offered seat.

 “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

 A waitress in deep purple colors briskly walked over to their table as Cedric snapped his fingers. The blood she poured from the bottle already resting beside the table resembled a murky swamp in the moody candlelight, matching the burgundy suit Tethos favored.

 “Are you sure you don’t mean displeasure?” He picked up the glass and swirled it, but didn’t take a sip. “The reception here is so frosty I wasn’t sure if I’d mistakenly slept through 'til winter.”

 As he set the glass back down with a noticeable clink, an unnatural silence descended upon the restaurant, dozens of sharp luminous eyes briefly flickering in his direction at his perceived slight against their master.

 Cedric politely laughed it off and waved his hand before snapping his fingers a second time.

 At his signal, half the customers all stood up and left at once. The rest resumed their conversations, as though the threat had been just an illusion. The man loved showing off the power and status he held, to an exhausting degree.

 The blonde-haired man folded his hands together over the table and leaned forward, somehow managing to frown with a smile on his face.

 “If you mean to suggest I should adjust my schedule to accommodate your sudden demand of my attention—”

 “I would simply hate to sour your meal,” Tethos shrugged his shoulders exaggeratedly.

 “Then out with it, quickly. And be on your way.”

 It seemed as though Cedric was done putting on airs. He was quite obnoxious to hold a serious conversation with. The main reason Tethos wanted to avoid speaking over the phone was because he knew his client was prone to ignore substance in favor of the superficial.

 The other reason was that it was obviously impossible to tell who could be listening in on their chat otherwise. At least with a room full of Idra in his sight, he could mark obstacles to remove later, if necessary.

 Tethos drawled as smarmily as he could, “Riiight, Your Grace is a busy man, after all. Which would you prefer first, the good or the bad?”

 “You hold the information, Tethos. Do not spoil the main course by serving dessert beforehand.”

 “The bad it is, then.”

 The ever-so-slight twitch of Cedric’s brow was all the “dessert” Tethos needed, personally. Nothing was quite as satisfying as getting under the arrogant prick’s skin. Especially since he constantly acted as though his position as Speaker for the Idra meant he was somehow above reproach or ruination.

 It’d be a delight to see his face once the decrepit vultures at the peak of the Idra had chewed him up and spat him out after having him play his final part.

 But Tethos was getting ahead of himself.

 “It seems our little fifth-generation pup has been rescued.”

 “…What?”

 “Well, either that or Who-Djini has come back from the dead as a woman of the Ochros Family.” Tethos nonchalantly shrugged. “The city guards found her unconscious in Volpini Realty, along with four corpses, each slain by a blade. The door had been shattered and there were signs of a single gunshot having been fired, but otherwise no evidence of a struggle.”

 He rattled off the information with extreme disinterest, idly flicking his finger against the side of his glass like a bored child. The four men were all members of an entourage he masterminded, but their lives were so far beneath his that he felt nothing for their loss.

 Four random pawns for the lead of a lifetime was a trade he would make any month, year, or decade.

 “So someone came to rescue her. And?” Cedric raised an eyebrow.

 “You’ll find that information doesn’t exist, my dear Cedric.” He smiled thinly, resting his chin upon his fingers. “There were no witnesses, no suspects, and if you ask the guards, they saw nothing.”

 “But you just said that…”

 Cedric’s eyes widened ever so slightly, as he leaned back in his seat and smiled. Indeed, he was no fool; he understood exactly what it meant that only Tethos knew about this. Or rather, Tethos and a pair of random civilian trash.

 That Her Majesty didn’t have them immediately erased spoke volumes about the little puzzle he’d been gathering pieces for.

 “Our dear thin-blooded maid is far more important than either of us realized.”

 “But why?”

 “Who’s to say? Regardless, I chanced upon the information thanks to my position as adjudicator for Her Majesty. Apparently there were a pair of witnesses who met the one responsible.”

 “I see…”

 “The winds of change are blowing, Cedric. Our families may have endured since the beginning, but there will always be those who become history, rather than make it.”

 Tethos stood up from the table, sticking a hand in his pocket and beginning to walk away. He’d said everything he intended to. It was up to Cedric to figure out the rest. It was more fun to watch the gears slowly turn in his head, anyway.

 “There you go with those worthless comments about the wind,” Cedric sighed.

 Tethos’ narrowed eyes darted across the crowd as he turned back briefly. “You should heed my warning. If the Idra don’t adapt, then you’ll become just another footnote in our sprawling, foolish history.”

 “…I and the Idra are ever grateful for your assistance, but don’t you think it improper to leave out the most crucial detail?”

 “I’m afraid I’m not sure who exactly came to her rescue. Though, I’m quite curious how this year's Moonsend will go…”

 “Really, you? Here I thought ‘Tethos Ochros had no personal interest in politics.’ This would be quite the upset to all of noble society.”

 “‘The third son to Duke Ochros, who disavowed the courts and their droll parties, suddenly doing an about face and revealing that he’d masterminded the whole affair and maintained a facade for one thousand six hundred and twenty three years.’ Hahaha, that would be quite the tale. Fortunately for you, I still have no love for the Ochros.”

 “Then why? The Idra would welcome you with open arms, I’m sure you’re aware.”

 “Regrettably, I don’t hold any fondness for them, either. You alone are the exception among our 'noble race' worth my time. For now.”

 Tethos turned away and walked to the exit, not even bothering to reply to Cedric’s usual call and response between their families; he was more than eager to bid farewell to the fake ambiance of the fake restaurant and its fake customers. He couldn’t stand the airs that nobles loved to put on, much preferring the honest lives of the common folk.

 And he saw that same sincerity in the curious little girl in her lilac hood. Little Lyco would certainly prove to be a most interesting source of amusement to him. A girl with silver hair and ruby eyes sneaking out of the palace, in search of a maid that served in the Exaltare’s private chambers could only mean one thing.

 Perhaps she could be the winds of change he and his true besotted so craved.

 “I wonder how well you’ll be able to stay on your toes, dear Cedric. After all, the Thief always comes to swipe the Hero’s prize in the end.”

 ＊　＊　＊

 Leagues away from Ljosdeyja, in the distant south-eastern corner of Vampire territory that bordered the expansive desert wastes to the east and the edge of subterranean Geolle territory to the south, there sat a walled city controlled by the Drimus Family called Vetreyri. Late at night, in the unremarkable and cozy town, a young girl sat alone in her room. Doubled over her desk, her hands trembled as her knuckles tightened around the handle of a knife.

 Its edge was soaked with blue ichor, the rubber mat atop her desk similarly stained and obscuring the papers with complexly layered, drawn out magic circles beneath. Her skin burned, and the pain overwhelmed her, forcing her to drop the ritual tool in her hand after she'd made her final incision.

 The girl laughed unsteadily, her mess of carmine hair obscuring her vision as she looked down at her handiwork. She took a moment to collect herself, wiping the locks away and slumping her arm heavily onto the table. Taking a pinch of powdered Citrinate, she carefully rubbed it into the vein-like wound running down her arm.

 “AAAGH!”

 She couldn’t stop the gasp of pain from tearing its way out of her as the white-gold powdered ore fizzed on contact with her raw flesh, a reaction not unlike soldering taking place where it touched the self-inflicted wound.

 At the same time, it sealed the injury as though cauterizing it, and as the pain faded, the girl felt a surge of energy course down her arm like a lit fuse, touching each circle etched into her arm and causing them to light up in sequence. Once it reached the one at the back of her palm, a bright light engulfed the room and—

 “Raine! What are you doing in there at this hour?”

 Her “father’s” voice came from the other side of the door, causing Raine to slide her sleeve down with a jolt. She quickly flipped the mat over to conceal knife, papers, and bloodstains as the door creaked open and the dour face of Daren Lynnvel poked inside.

 At the same time, she stood up and folded her hands properly in front of her, careful to cover the right with left as she bowed respectfully.

 “I am deeply apologetic for the unsightly noise, My Lord.”

 “Hmph, as you should be.”

 He looked around suspiciously, but naturally found nothing out of place. Not that he actually cared about why she might cry out in pain in the middle of the night. Daren had expressed nothing but disappointment in the girl he’d adopted, despite being promised “potential” by the parents who’d willingly sold her to the Lynnvels.

 Raine had no idea what her original parents had been thinking—she’d been born to commoners and had virtually no capacity for magic, like all the rest. They’d simply swindled this dumb noble and she was suffering the consequences.

 Though her resentment bubbled beneath the surface, she maintained a placid expression as the man invaded the privacy of her room and looked around briefly.

 “…Right, get to bed at once. You’ll need to at least look presentable tomorrow. We’re having a meeting with the Meltants. If fortune favors us, we might be able to bind our families together and not even need to send you off to— no, why am I wasting my breath on you.”

 He shook his head, not even waiting for her response before stepping back outside and closing the door. She released the tension that’d pooled inside her with a sigh as she slid her sleeve back up, looking at the raw golden branches crawling down her arm. They’d already mostly faded into the milky white of her skin, blending into all the other veins she’d engraved. There was no trace of any of the circles tattooed into her skin either, though she could feel each and every one if she focused.

 She inelegantly flopped onto her bed, looking at the twinkling glow-in-the-dark stickers pasted to her ceiling. Only forty-nine and her “father” was already looking to trade her for more power and status… Nobles were truly awful, exhausting people.

 Naturally, Raine had no interest in marrying some random stuck up noble-boy who probably stunk of artificial flowers and… pine or whatever. Which meant she’d have to find a way to ruin whatever her father’s plans were, but in a way that wouldn’t reveal her true aspirations.

 Her own sights were set on the top-ranked academy within the Empire, where gifted noble children were instructed on how to properly carry on their parents’ legacies, and where nearly every successful Heir-Potentiate to the Exaltare’s throne had attended.

 Of course, what interested her more was how they touted themselves as the premiere academy in terms of magical research.

 Raine was just a child, and of common blood at that; that she'd discovered a means of collecting and harnessing magic within herself to begin with had been a miracle, but she could only get so far through her own efforts…

 The mere thought of the opportunity to attend such a prestigious school going to waste was enough to make her want to cry and scream, but she knew that would only risk bringing her father’s ire down upon her. And she still needed to at least keep him from disowning her if she wanted any hope of going to that academy. Money alone wouldn't get her in, the connections the Lynnvel family held were where their true value laid.

 As she contemplated how best to circumvent the threat of future arranged marriages facing her, Raine Lynnvel quickly and quietly fell asleep atop her bed.