After two days of riding in the carriage, we finally entered Aurengard—a province nestled in the eastern edge of the empire, sharing its border with Sotaris. It was the ancestral seat of House Goldhain, known for its vast fields of golden wheat and gently rolling hills. And a nd of farmers, merchants, and skilled craftsmen.
On the road, we passed two towering granite spires, each about ten feet tall, etched with Primalverse script on its body. The closest transtion we have read: Aurengard stands eternal. Most historians believed the spires were remnants from one of the many ancient kings who once ruled these nds. Gilded and scattered across the territory, they marked the edges of Aurengard like sentinels of its past.
For the next two days, our carriage wound through small towns and bustling cities. The local noble houses received me with a strange mix of humility and awkwardness. Perhaps the news of what I’d done had already reached their ears. I wondered how much the story had warped as it traveled—how many added embellishments, how many missing truths.
On the morning of the fourth day, Gildenspire emerged on the horizon. The capital of Aurengard and where my home was. Cradled between two low hills, the city had long since outgrown its original footprint. Over the years, its buildings had climbed and spread across both hills. Near the southern gate, a forest sprawled across the nd like a great, leafy bnket.
Peeking above the stone walls was the Golden Tower—a towering obelisk of yellow marble at the heart of the city. It shimmered in the sunlight, brilliant and blinding. As the carriage trudged forward, a tightness bloomed in my chest. I was returning to my family. For them, it had been only two years since they st saw me. For me… it had been more than three decades.
We passed through the city gates without issue, welcomed by the buzz of afternoon traffic. From the carriage window, I watched the streets teeming with people. Shops lined the sidewalks, colors and signs bleeding together as we moved. The road was congested, and we halted more than once.
Eventually, we reached the wide road encircling the Golden Tower. I had to lean out of the window to get a better view of it. The marble gleamed like polished gold, and inscribed across its face were the same ancient words: Aurengard stands Eternal.
The carriage began its climb uphill. The scenery shifted to fine residential buildings, each with its own distinctive architecture. Near the hilltop stood Maison Liora—a four-story hotel famed throughout Gildenspire.
Then, finally, the Soris Mansion came into view.
We traveled along a paved path that led us to the estate’s gates. Beyond them stretched a sprawling territory—one grand manor and several smaller buildings scattered within its bounds. As we neared, my lips parted in awe. It had been ages since I st id my eyes on that familiar green-tiled roof.
The gates swung open to welcome us. But when we reached the front steps, no family members came to greet me—only the butler and a small group of maids stood waiting.
I smiled at them, though it didn’t reach my eyes. I had expected this kind of reception. Expectation, however, did little to dull the sting of reality. My hand tightened around the handle of my suitcase.
“Greetings, Lady Goldhain,” the butler said with a small bow. “The Duke and Duchess are waiting for you in the Duke’s office.”
I handed my luggage to a maid and stepped inside. The double staircase greeted me with its familiar, sweeping elegance. Both staircases mirrored one another perfectly, made from dark polished wood that glowed under the crystal chandelier above.
“How was your trip, my dy? It has been two years since you left for University.”
The butler's voice came as my eyes roamed the hallway. To the left, oil paintings lined the wall, broken only by occasional doorways. On the right, tall windows bathed the corridor in warm light, and beside them stood white vases filled with yellow flowers. The arrangements changed every three days, cycling through colors and species as if the house itself refused to stagnate.
“The roads were peaceful,” I said.
We stopped before a set of tall double doors—my father’s office.
“Aurengard is a great territory,” the butler added as he pushed the doors open.
Sunlight poured through the tall windows inside, momentarily blinding me. I blinked against it, struggling to adjust.
“You’re here,” said a voice from within.
Duke Goldhain.
I flinched, straightened my spine, and offered a curtsy. “Greetings, Father. I am pleased to see you.”
A scoff echoed in the room. My mother stood beside him, her expression sharp and unforgiving.
“Pleased?” she snapped. “I wish we could say the same to you, Morgana. We barely salvaged your name from the vultures circling it.”
I swallowed hard. “I—”
Duchess Olga didn’t let me finish.
“We’re not asking for your excuses. You’ve shamed this family. That requires no expnation.”
I csped my hands before me and bowed my head. “Then I hope for your forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness?” my father echoed, voice low with disdain. “The Imperial Family is displeased with you. Do not expect your engagement to the Crown Prince to remain intact. Their silence says enough.”
Internally, I sighed. I raised my chin and met their eyes. “That doesn’t bother me, Mother. Father, I have no desire to become Crown Princess.”
They both froze.
My mother stepped down from the dais with barely concealed fury. I took an involuntary step back—but not fast enough. Her palm cracked against my face with blistering force.
A sharp burn spread across my cheek. My knees buckled, and I stumbled.
“Do you even understand the weight of your actions?” she hissed. “You’ve tarnished our name over what—one of your whims? It seems your education taught you nothing.”
She turned toward my father, her voice rising. “I warned you about sending her away.”
“You ruined yourself, Morgana. Don’t even wonder if anyone wants to take you as their wife.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the tears cascading down her face stopped me cold. She was angry—and rightfully so. Still, I took comfort in the fact that her anger came from a pce of care.
I stood from where I had fallen. Father watched me with stern, unreadable eyes.
“I want you to reflect on what you’ve done,” he said. “Go to your room. You’re not to leave until I call for you.”
I bowed before him, voice steady. “Thank you for your generosity. I promise to reflect on my actions.”
Outside his office, a maid was already waiting.
“Greetings, my dy. I am Lina, your personal maid.”
Her sudden introduction made me flinch. She was young, with brown hair and gray eyes. Freckles dusted her nose, making her appear even younger than I'd first assumed.
“Please guide me to my room, Lina.”
Lina visited me three times a day—morning for breakfast and grooming, afternoon for lunch and refreshments, and evening for dinner.
Her name lingered in my thoughts. I couldn’t recall ever encountering a maid named Lina in my previous life. She was a curious anomaly.
Bubbly and bright-eyed, Lina never failed to greet me with a smile. She was diligent, patient, and unshaken by my silence. The days blurred together. I passed them quietly, often sitting near the window and watching the garden below. I wasn’t allowed any books, so there was little else to do.
It was on the fifth day of confinement that my mother paid an unexpected visit.
“Good morning, Mother. I’m pleased to see you,” I said, smiling. And I meant it. I’d rather hear her scolding voice than endure the crushing silence of this room.
She didn’t return my smile. Her face was tired, as though she’d aged three years in three days. Her eyes wandered the room, their gaze distant and haunted. When they finally met mine, there was a flicker of unfamiliarity in them. As if, for a moment, she didn’t recognize me.
It hurt to see her like this. I knew I was the reason for her grief. And though she might never understand, everything I was doing now but every drastic choice was to escape the future I had once lived.
Her expression shifted, cooling into the mask of the Duchess Olga. She stepped past me and sat on the chair beside the bed. I remained standing, as etiquette demanded.
But even that seemed to anger her. “I’m surprised you still remember your etiquette,” she said with a sneer.
“Etiquette is something I’ll never forget.”
“Then expin your behavior at the Royal University.”
I paused, searching for a response that wouldn’t sound like a lie. My shoulders eased, and I settled on something with a sliver of truth.
“I had my reasons.”
Her eyes fred. “A reason enough to tarnish our family’s name?”
“I know I can’t ask for forgiveness,” I said quietly. “But I did what I thought was best for me. If my life was in danger… what would you save? My life, or the family’s honor?”
She stared at me, unmoving. Then, without another word, she rose.
“Your father is waiting for you in his office,” she said before leaving the room.
As the door closed behind her, my back slumped. I wished—desperately—that I could tell them the truth. But even if I did, would they believe me?
The knights stationed outside followed me as I made my way to Father’s study. Sunlight poured in from the tall windows behind his desk, casting the room in a golden glow. I walked along the red carpet, stopping just before the dais that elevated his workspace.
“Greetings to the Duke of Aurengard,” I said, bowing.
Duke Goldhain barely looked at me.
“I assume you’ve had time to reflect,” he said. “Now tell me again, why did you do what you did at the university?”
“Just as I wrote in my letter,” I replied, “I wanted to change my area of study. I believe it better suits me.”
He set his pen down and stood, his face a mask of calm detachment. My heart tightened.
“But that does not expin,” he said, “why you bombed the Royal University. You cim you want to study Potions and Alchemy. Do you know how rare it is to be accepted into those fields? Only a few are granted such privilege. Only those chosen by the Golden Runes…”
“I have been granted power over the Golden Runes,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I told you in my letter.”
Father fixed his green eyes on me, and I was immediately reminded of my first visit at the Imperial Court. People often told me I resembled my mother when she was young—elegant and regal, with the exception of my green eyes, which I had inherited from my father. But, in truth, I shared more with him than I ever gave credit. I learned from him to be cunning, strong-willed, and, most importantly, to control the flow of conversation. That st trait had proven invaluable in navigating the complex world of High Society.
A brief sigh escaped me as the memory surfaced. I couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction at not having to endure those games anymore.
Father crossed his arms, his gaze unyielding. "I’m not sending you to another school. If you want to study those fields, you’ll have to figure it out on your own... Perhaps if you prove yourself worthy in this household, I might reconsider sponsoring you."
Relief flooded me. I bowed deeply, my voice ced with gratitude. "Thank you for your generosity, Father."
"I will take my leave now, Your Grace."
Before I could even formute an escape pn with Olivia, I already pnned what I would do as soon as I leave the University. Asking for my father’s sponsorship wasn’t on my list of options, but the prospect of proving myself had its appeal.
"I’m going for a stroll in the garden," I told the two knights trailing behind me.
The Golden Orchard, located at the back of the eastern section of Soris Manor, stretched out before me. It was massive, yet chaotic, a result of years of neglect. The family had since built a more polished garden for visitors, a neat gss garden that showcased our refined taste. But the Golden Orchard? It was a different story.
Over generations, each head of House Goldhain had added their favorite pnt to the garden, which had led to an assortment of species, both foreign and domestic. Sadly, some of those foreign species had begun to harm the native pnts.
I wasn’t here for a leisurely walk. Today, I had come to visit someone who lived within this overgrown garden.
The sound of my shoes clicking against the stone path echoed through the silence. I was reminded of the day my grandfather had brought me here, ciming we were going to visit an old friend.
I passed flower beds, potted pnts, and statues that dotted the ndscape like silent sentinels.
I shook my head, muttering to myself, "This pce is very unorganized."
But as I ventured deeper, the chaos began to give way to a strange harmony. The vines were fewer here, and the reeds that once poked through the flower beds had been rooted out. At the center of this new order stood a small house with a blue roof. Smoke billowed from its chimney, filling the air with the scent of burnt wood. Two fruit-bearing trees stood at the front, while the other side of the house faced a tranquil pond with crystal-clear water.
My grandfather had always referred to this pce as the Mage Tavern, and, indeed, there was a mage who lived here. It had been a tradition among noble houses to keep a mage as an advisor. But it was only after my grandfather became Duke that he had hired one.
I reached the door to the Mage Tavern and paused to gather my thoughts before knocking.
On my third attempt, a voice called from inside. "Wait!" The sound of cttering metal followed, along with a few choice words.
The door swung open, revealing a man about my age. He had long red hair tied in a ponytail and piercing blue eyes. But the most notable feature was his pointed ears, poking through his thick hair.
“Ow, Lady Morg! I almost didn’t recognize you. Didn’t know you had returned.”
I gave him a small smile. "I got expelled from school."
He ughed, shaking his head. "I didn’t think you had it in you to be so mischievous and reckless. I bet your father wasn’t pleased."
I chuckled.
"May I ask what brings you here today?"
I met his gaze. "I’m here to ask you a favor."
He waited, his expression unreadable.
"I—I can see the Golden Runes." I trailed off.
His eyes widened slightly before his face grew serious. "If you’re here to apply for an apprenticeship, I’m afraid I must decline. I’m too old for that, and there are other schools of magic out there that could teach you more than I ever could."
It took me a moment to process his words. By the time I realized what he meant, the door to the Mage Tavern was already closing. My instincts fred, warning me that if I didn’t act now, I might lose this opportunity forever.
I pressed my weight against the door just in time to stop it from shutting in my face.