Chapter 69: The Brother’s Gift

Chapter 69

Retave seemed determined to see the gift through, no matter how his sister felt about it.

Helia, for her part, kept her smile calm and composed, but behind it, watching the particular cast of her brother’s expression, suspicion had already begun to stir.

She found herself hesitating, unsure whether to accept his generosity or find some graceful way to decline it. She still had no clear idea what he actually intended to give her, only a growing certainty that whatever sat behind this gesture, it wasn’t good for her.

Even before she’d become a throne contender herself, she and Retave had already stood on opposite sides of the empire’s political landscape.

As a pureblood descendant of the Bravenheart imperial line, Retave carried an advantage built into his very bloodline, one that earned him respect and favor among the empire’s pureblood nobility almost by default.

Helia carried no such advantage. With only half Bravenheart blood in her veins, she’d never been especially well liked among the pureblood aristocracy.

The empire’s nobles held tight to an old, unspoken belief: that those born of pure local blood deserved elevation and honor, while those descended from conquered, outside kingdoms belonged somewhere beneath them.

The divide between pure blood and mixed blood still ran deep through Bravenheart, deeper than most cared to admit in open company.

So many kingdoms had been folded into the empire by force that the resulting mixture of cultures and peoples, stitched together against their will, had never fully stopped chafing under the seams.

And yet, however reluctantly, even the conquered kingdoms couldn’t deny that their quality of life had genuinely improved since their forced integration.

Varka involved himself directly in governance at every level, and the system he’d built ran cleaner and fairer than whatever had come before it under their old rulers. That alone kept most of the empire’s subjects from rising up against him.

But the people weren’t blind to the difference between the father and what might come after him.

Varka, for all his authoritarian streak and his hunger for war, still respected those who knelt to him. Whether his children, the empire’s future heirs, would carry that same respect forward was far from guaranteed.

Which was exactly why Helia’s rise meant something to the empire’s mixed-blood population, something close to hope.

She understood her own position clearly. If she wanted to strike at Retave politically, she now stood on solid enough ground to attempt it. But in a room packed with far more nobles than commoners tonight, starting that kind of controversy here would be anything but wise.

"Princess Helia... you’d do well to accept your brother’s gift."

The words arrived from just behind her shoulder, low enough that only she could hear them. A figure in a black mask leaned in close, murmuring the suggestion directly into her ear.

Rhaiven wasn’t the only one closing in. Behind her, Gareth had gone still for only a moment before he too began to move, though not toward Helia. He stepped instead toward Retave, drawing him into conversation.

"It’s been a while, Prince Retave."

"Ah, Commander Gareth. You’re right, it has. Seems the two of you have been keeping quite busy lately."

It was a clumsy attempt, Gareth trying to pull Retave’s attention away from Helia even for a moment, and Retave let it happen anyway. He recognized exactly what Gareth was doing. But Gareth still held an active commission within the Bravenheart imperial military, and his reputation as a swordmaster made him something of a hero to a fair portion of its ranks, even if most of that military’s real power now rested in the hands of Retave’s eldest sister, Andromeda. Retave let the small breach of etiquette slide.

Helia recognized the gift Gareth had just handed her, a few stolen seconds before she’d have to move again.

"Do you know what my brother’s planning?" she murmured to Rhaiven. "Rhaiven."

"Forgive me, Princess. I still don’t have a clear read on what your brother intends."

Her expression tightened with a flicker of irritation as she leaned closer to whisper back.

"How can you not know? Don’t tell me your mind’s still tangled up over that failed Shadow Hunter assassination, or the smuggling we ran through Castilla a few days ago."

"I only just received word. One of the Shadow Hunter commanders under my control, someone I currently have under command through the Order of Lumielle, has vanished without a trace."

"Vanished? What does that mean? Has our plan already been exposed, Rhaiven?"

"No, Your Highness. I can confirm the rumor we planted, the one suggesting a rift forming inside the Order of Lumielle, has taken hold exactly as intended. The Order will stay focused on that instead. Our plan will move forward on schedule."

Helia let out a slow breath, some of the tension easing from her shoulders.

"Good. Make sure nothing traces back to us regarding the failed attempt. Nothing at all."

"How about it, little sister? Do you really need this much time just to accept a gift from your own brother? Are you really so worried it won’t suit someone about to become empress?"

Retave had clearly given her all the patience he intended to. And beneath the surface of that question sat something closer to a challenge than an invitation, one delivered loudly enough that half the hall had already caught it.

Every eye in the room now turned toward the two of them, watching what looked very much like the opening moves of a political cold war fought entirely with words. Among the onlookers, the Pillar families already aligned with Princess Andromeda seemed to be enjoying the show most of all.

"Hah! Look at that, Cedric. The selection hasn’t even started and already they’re trying to tear each other down. Lucky for us Princess Andromeda didn’t bother showing up tonight."

Irvine clapped Cedric’s shoulder, clearly pleased with himself. House Augusta’s loyalty to Andromeda had never been in question, not since she’d trained directly under Irvine himself. Beside him, Claudia tried quietly to rein her father in before his amusement drew any more attention their way.

Helia understood the danger sitting inside her own next move. Whatever she did now could cut either way. She chose her words with care.

"Of course not, Brother. Any gift you’d give me would always suit me perfectly, and prove useful besides."

She kept her tone easy, unbothered, the way she always did.

"Good. Good."

Retave clapped his hands once, summoning a pair of servants forward, each carrying an ornate box that practically announced its own value before it was even opened.

Curiosity won out, and Helia lifted the lid on the first box herself.

Inside sat a heavy stone, gray shot through with a vein of pure white running through its center, dense with mana that seemed to pulse faintly even at rest. It drew every eye in the hall the instant it caught the light.

"That energy... that’s no ordinary mana stone. With mana that concentrated and a texture that dense, isn’t that White Jade Orihalcum?"

A murmur swept through the crowd. A chunk of Orihalcum that size, roughly the width of a large dinner plate, handed over as a simple gift, was enough to draw gasps on its own. Orihalcum ranked among the rarest materials in the empire, prized not just for forging armor and weapons but, in certain of its forms, for its exceptional ability to conduct mana, making it ideal for Relic crafting. The particular grade Retave had just handed his sister happened to be especially well suited to exactly that purpose.

Tens of thousands of Gold might not be enough to buy even a fragment this size.

The hall’s admiration for Retave’s generosity swelled further.

But something about the gift itself struck Helia as strange. Why hand over raw Relic-crafting material, of all things, when there were a dozen other precious gifts he could have chosen instead?

She opened the second, final box.

Inside lay a carving knife, its handle etched with an intricate, elegant pattern, clearly a piece of considerable craftsmanship in its own right.

"A carving knife?"

"Why is Retave giving me a carving knife and a piece of Orihalcum, of all things?"

"Well, little sister? Does my gift please you?"

Retave watched her with a faint, satisfied smile, clearly enjoying the flicker of unease he could see building behind her composure.

"Thank you so much, Brother. A gift this special, I’m honestly a little at a loss for words, just taking in how beautiful it all is."

"Ah, of course. If my little sister already finds the Orihalcum this beautiful, well, you’re a Forgemaster yourself, aren’t you? You managed something as remarkable as that Pocket Orb of yours with nothing but a bit of mana-etched craftsmanship. I can only imagine what you’ll make with this."