The dining room still felt suffocating, even long after my father had left. His words replayed in my mind, sharp as a blade, slicing into my resolve. He had mastered the art of veiling threats in paternal concern, but I could see through it. He wasn't sending me to the academy out of fatherly pride or obligation. This was strategy—his, not mine.
"Elise," I called, my voice steady despite the storm brewing within. My maid stepped into the room with her usual grace, her eyes cautious but attentive.
"Yes, my lady?" she asked, bowing her head slightly.
"Have you heard anything unusual? Whispers among the staff, visitors in the night?" I began to pace, my boots clicking softly against the polished wood floor. "He's planning something, Elise. I need to know what."
Her hesitation was slight, but enough to catch my attention. "There have been letters, my lady. Many, sealed with the royal crest. The servants say they concern you."
I stopped pacing, the revelation sinking in. Of course, they concerned me. My father's plans always did, though never in ways that benefited me. This was no different.
"I see." I clasped my hands behind my back to steady them. "What else?"
"The staff knows little beyond the letters. But… I overheard him mention an alliance. He didn't say with whom."
An alliance. The word left a bitter taste in my mouth. My father didn't forge alliances for the good of anyone but himself. The academy wasn't just a place for learning, then—it was a chessboard, and I was his most expendable piece.
"Elise," I said, turning to face her fully. "When I'm gone, I need you to watch over this place. Listen, observe. Report anything suspicious."
Her expression hardened, her loyalty evident. "I will, my lady."
I placed a hand on her shoulder, briefly, before retreating to my chambers. There was little time to prepare, but I wouldn't leave this house without setting my own plans in motion.
Morning came far too quickly. The carriage awaited me in the courtyard, its polished surface gleaming under the pale light. Servants bustled about, loading my belongings with the precision of habit. My father was absent, as expected. Farewells weren't his style unless they served a purpose.
Elise stood at my side, fussing with the clasp of my cloak. "You'll do well, my lady," she said softly, though her tone carried an edge of worry.
"I intend to," I replied, glancing back at the estate. The stone walls loomed like a specter, a cage I was finally escaping. "This isn't goodbye, Elise. It's a tactical retreat."
She smiled faintly, though the corners of her mouth didn't quite reach her eyes. "Safe travels, my lady."
I climbed into the carriage without another word, allowing the door to close behind me. As the wheels began to turn, I forced myself to focus on the road ahead. The past was a weight I couldn't afford to carry.
The journey was uneventful at first. Rolling hills and quiet forests passed by in a blur, the rhythmic sound of the wheels lulling me into uneasy contemplation. The academy loomed in my mind like a distant storm—unknown, unpredictable, and full of danger.
By mid-afternoon, the coachman slowed the horses as we approached a narrow bridge. The air grew still, heavy with a tension I couldn't place.
"Something's not right," the coachman muttered, his hand drifting to the hilt of a blade at his side.
I leaned out the window, scanning the area. The forest around us seemed too quiet, the usual hum of nature replaced by an unnatural silence. Then I saw them—shadows moving among the trees.
Before I could react, a figure stepped onto the road. He was tall and ragged, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Well, what have we here?" he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "A noble lady all alone?"
"Hardly alone," I replied, stepping out of the carriage. My dagger was already in my hand, hidden beneath my cloak. The man's smile faltered for a moment before returning, wider than before.
"You've got spirit," he said, stepping closer. "Let's see how far it gets you."
The fight was brief but brutal. The coachman held his own against two attackers while I focused on the leader. My strikes were precise, each movement calculated. The dagger's blade found its mark, and the man stumbled back, clutching his side.
Before the dust could settle, a group of travelers appeared from the woods, weapons drawn. The remaining bandits scattered, unwilling to face the unexpected reinforcements.
One of the travelers approached me, his face obscured by a hood. "Impressive work," he said, his voice deep and steady. "Not many noble ladies could fend off a bandit like that."
I narrowed my eyes. "And you are?"
He pulled back his hood, revealing sharp features and piercing eyes. "A fellow traveler," he said with a smirk. "Though I suspect our paths may cross again."
I didn't trust him, but there was no time to question his intentions. The road awaited, and the academy loomed ever closer.
The gates of the academy were larger than I had imagined, wrought iron twisting into intricate patterns that hinted at both beauty and menace. Beyond them lay a sprawling campus of towering spires and shadowed courtyards, alive with the hum of activity.
As I stepped through the gates, I felt the weight of a hundred eyes on me. This place was meant to be a sanctuary, a haven for the gifted. But I knew better. It was a battlefield, just like every other stage of my life.
And I intended to win.