Chapter 244: Cracks in the Palace
[Dawnspire Wing—Lavinia’s Office—Late Afternoon—Lavinia’s POV]
The office was quiet, almost painfully so, the kind of quiet that makes every creak of the floorboards sound like a drum announcing one’s arrival. I glanced at Sera, standing by the door with that infuriatingly confident look that said, I have a plan, and it’s brilliant—whether you survive it or not.
"Alright, Sera," I whispered, lowering my voice to the most conspiratorial murmur I could manage, "show me this way you’ve been hiding in that brain of yours. I expect cunning, precision... and minimal screaming."
She tilted her head, eyes glinting with mischief. "Screaming is optional. Strategy, however..." She tapped her temple dramatically. "...is mandatory."
I leaned back in my chair, studying her. "And this strategy of yours... it involves sneaking past Papa, Osric, and probably Ravick’s mysterious, ever-watchful stare?"
Her grin widened like she’d just uncovered some secret treasure. She was flitting through the documents with the precision of a hawk circling its prey. "Exactly, Your Highness..." she murmured, voice low and conspiratorial, eyes scanning every page. "Just have faith in me; I will make sure you walk out of the Imperial palace with a valid reason."
I hummed, leaning forward slightly, watching her mutter under her breath. "Where is it? Where is it?" she whispered, fingers flipping through the papers as if each one were a clue in some grand puzzle.
I arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Sera... what exactly are you looking for? Maybe I can help you with something?"
Her eyes flicked to mine, bright with the thrill of discovery. "The public complaint document, Your Highness. It’s... essential."
I blinked, tilting my head. "Public complaints? Really? You want me to... sneak past the palace guards using... grievances from the villagers?"
She waved a hand like I was missing the obvious. "Not just any complaints. This one... could be the key." Her voice dropped to a whisper, almost reverent, and I suppressed a laugh at her dramatic flair.
"A key for you to sneak into the Divine library."
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of frantic shuffling, her fingers shot into the pile. Her eyes lit up as she flapped into the air, waving a single document like a flag of victory.
"AHA....FOUND IT!!"
I leaned closer, peering at the parchment. "And what... pray tell... is it about?"
Sera walked over, her movements exaggeratedly careful, like she was carrying a priceless relic rather than a dusty sheet of paper. She held it out to me, her grin mischievous, eyes sparkling.
"A month ago, we received a complaint..." she began, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper, "from a villager... and maybe... just maybe... this could help you, Your Highness."
I leaned back in my chair, fingers tracing the rim of my teacup as I scanned the document. My eyes widened slightly at the words.
"...A crack on a dam?" I asked slowly, disbelief threading my voice.
She nodded solemnly. "Yes, Your Highness. A small crack... but it could be catastrophic if ignored."
I frowned, tapping the document against the table. "Small crack? That’s an understatement! If there’s heavy rainfall... the dam could collapse entirely. The whole village... swept away in a single torrent." My fingers clenched reflexively on the edge of the table.
Sera’s eyes were wide, dramatic, and perfectly theatrical, and she tilted her head, whispering as though the words themselves were dangerous. "Exactly, Your Highness. A tragedy waiting to happen."
I placed the document on the table with a slow, deliberate movement. "...It’s not a minor issue, Sera. It’s enormous. Terrifying, even." I leaned back, letting out a theatrical sigh that would make any royal advisor proud. "...But... it’s also not my job."
Sera gasped audibly, placing a delicate hand over her heart. "Not your problem, Your Highness? The fate of an entire village... and you... you—"
I held up a hand, cutting her off with all the drama of a courtroom gavel. "Sera. Calm yourself. I said... it’s not my job. Someone else will handle the dam. I can send nobles, archmages—an entire parade if it pleases you. They can repair it, and ta-da, problem solved. Why does it need my presence?"
Sera’s eyes narrowed, very nearly melting into scheming mode. "Because, Your Highness, that’s the point—no one did send anyone. The Villagers filed the complaint to every petty magistrate and ledger-scribe in a twenty-mile radius and got back precisely the sound of crickets. Everyone assumed it was ’minor.’ Everyone assumed it would fix itself. Everyone assumed wrong."
I skimmed the letter again, the villagers’ trembling scrawl making a tighter knot in my chest.
"...Humm, It’s worse than they thought. If the dam gives after the first hard rain, that whole valley will be gone." I tapped the paper with a neat, deliberate finger. "Fine. I’ll look into it. I’ll authorize repairs. Sweep the inspectors there at once—but how is it going to help me, sera?"
Sera shook her head, a slow smile spreading like sunrise. "Because, your highness, the route to that valley cuts right through the Divine Temple’s eastern pass. You must pass the temple to get to the road. Which means—"
"Which means?" I prompted, leaning forward, enjoying how her brain lit up like fireworks.
"Which means you get an official reason to go. A legitimate, royal-scented reason that no one can question." She fluttered the complaint like a magician showing the final card. "You escort inspectors. You audit the village. You commission repairs. You step through the temple. And while the nobles ogle and the priests bless and his majesty fumes about protocol—" she spread her hands in a flourish, "—you slip into the library corridor. Quietly. Properly. Imperially."
A slow grin crept across my face. "Hah. Sera... you are a genius."
She preened as if I’d just coined her new title. "Of course I am."
I sat back, letting the idea sink in like honey. "Alright. Then do it properly. Bring me every scrap about that dam: every complaint filed, every reply—or lack of reply—every maintenance ledger, every scribe’s note. I want names, dates, witnesses, and even the idiot who wrote ’minor crack’ in the margin. If I’m going to handle this matter, about infrastructure, I will do it so convincingly they’ll wet themselves with gratitude."
Sera bowed with theatrical reverence. "As you wish, Your Highness. I shall fetch the files, bribe the clerk, and charm the foreman."
"Don’t bribe anyone without telling me first," I said dryly.
She clicked her tongue. "Naturally. I’ll only suggest that we prioritize the matter. Subtlety, Your Highness. Very subtle."
I gave her a mock-stern look and then let it soften. "Good. And Sera—if anyone even thinks to ask why the Crown Princess is investigating a peasant dam, tell them I was being practical. Say I’m practicing emergency governance. Say I care for the people. Say I adore waterworks. Say whatever gets me past the temple doors."
Her eyes gleamed—victory and mischief twining together. "Understood."
"Consider yourself rewarded later," I said, a grin tugging at my lips, impressed with her audacity. "Now go. Bring me every scrap. Be quiet, be clever, and for the love of Marshi, do not faint at the sight of a damp ledger."
Sera curtsied, already halfway to the door, eyes sparkling like a mischievous comet. "I shall return soon, Your Highness."
As the study door swung closed behind her, I let the grin I’d been restraining finally bloom, wide and unapologetic. The dam, the temple, the library—they fit together now, pieces of a crooked map sprawled across the polished surface of my mind. If my plan worked... if everything fell into place just so... I would walk into the Divine Library under the guise of civility and rattle its secrets until someone—someone important—could no longer keep them buried.
I pressed my forehead against the cool windowpane, staring out at the glimmering palace gardens. "Now... let’s see what you’re hiding from me," I muttered, voice low, almost to myself.
And yet, despite the thrill of scheming, my hands twitched with something else—something I couldn’t quite name. Fear? Nervousness? Or perhaps the faint premonition of a storm gathering somewhere beyond the palace walls, dark and unrelenting. A storm that could collapse everything I held dear.
But perhaps... perhaps it was just my imagination. Maybe our feelings mislead us, make mountains out of molehills, and make shadows loom where there are none.
I straightened, chin raised. After all... what could anyone possibly be hiding from me?
For now, I had my plan, my ally, and a promise of secrets waiting to be unveiled. And that... that was enough.
But then...Osric appeared in my line of sight, rushing past the sunlit halls with a purpose that seemed... wrong. Every step echoed like a warning.
"Is he going to meet Papa?" I muttered, gripping the edge of my chair. Something in his haste... something unspoken... made my skin prickle.
And just like that, the quiet day felt too heavy, too charged, as if the palace itself was holding its breath.