Chapter 307: Lady Seraphina’s Unease

The morning sky above Valoria stretched in pale shades of blue and gold, its eastern horizon illuminated by the rising sun.

Wisps of silver cloud drifted lazily overhead, while the gentle warmth of dawn gradually dispelled the lingering chill of night. Sunlight spilled across the rooftops, catching on copper weather vanes and the glass windows of taller buildings.

Below, the capital was already stirring with activity befitting the prosperity associated with the kingdom’s greatest cities.

Merchants arranged their wares beneath colourful awnings, calling to passers-by with the enthusiasm of salespeople eager to secure their first customers of the day.

Shopkeepers swept their entrances, servants hurried between establishments carrying baskets and parcels, and the clatter of horseshoes echoed along the cobbled streets.

Carriages travelled through the thoroughfares at varying speeds, occasionally slowing to accommodate pedestrians or make way for mounted patrols.

Near the fountains, children chased one another around the stone basins while their parents exchanged morning pleasantries.

Furthermore, the smell of freshly baked bread mingled with the aroma of roasted meat from nearby food stalls, and the distant tolling of a bell announced another hour in the prosperous capital.

It had been barely a week since the Awakening Ceremony had taken place in the Grand Colosseum.

Yet the city carried on as though nothing of consequence had happened, seemingly unconcerned with the fate of those who had been condemned to brutal exile in the Nether Lands after being deemed unworthy of remaining among civilized society.

Their absence had scarcely disturbed the capital’s rhythm. Such was the nature of the world: weakness rarely earned respect, misfortune seldom commanded remembrance, and the forgotten were not often granted the dignity of a second thought.

The world had little patience for those who could no longer contribute to its splendour, much less those whose failures inconvenienced the powerful.

Life, after all, did not pause to mourn every unfortunate soul. Like a river flowing around fallen branches, it continued along its course, leaving behind whatever it could not carry.

But whether that was wisdom or cruelty depended largely on which side of the current one happened to stand.

Among the numerous vehicles navigating the streets, however, one carriage stood out with an elegance and imposing procession that made it difficult to overlook.

Its polished blackwood body was reinforced with silver fittings, while delicate golden engravings traced the edges of its doors and windows.

The wheels were fashioned from dark, sturdy timber, their metallic rims decorated with intricate patterns that caught the sunlight whenever they turned.

Two pairs of magnificent black horses pulled the carriage, their coats gleaming and their movements disciplined beneath the steady guidance of the coachmen.

Most distinctive, however, was the crest emblazoned upon its doors: a proud knight astride a flying Pterafrey, its wings spread majestically as though challenging the heavens themselves.

It was the unmistakable emblem of House Valehart, a symbol that commanded respect and reverence even from a considerable distance.

Several knights rode around the carriage in disciplined formation, their polished armour bearing the same crest.

Their expressions were stern beneath their helmets, and their attention shifted constantly between the surrounding buildings, passing carriages and curious onlookers.

Although Valoria’s streets were generally safe, the security accompanying a member of one of its most prominent noble Houses was never considered excessive.

In the capital, even an uneventful journey could become a matter of political embarrassment if the wrong person was inconvenienced.

Inside the luxurious carriage, surrounded by an atmosphere of quiet refinement, sat Lady Seraphina, matriarch of the illustrious House Valehart.

Her appearance reflected the dignity and authority expected of someone who had governed one of Valoria’s distinguished noble families for many years.

She wore an elegant gown of deep sapphire, its fitted bodice embroidered with delicate silver threads that formed subtle patterns around the neckline and sleeves.

A matching shawl rested across her shoulders, fastened with a small brooch bearing the Valehart crest. Her platinum-blonde hair had been arranged in an elaborate yet restrained coiffure, with a few loose strands framing her composed face. Sapphire earrings also adorned her ears, complementing the colour of her dress.

Though her posture remained graceful, the faint crease between her brows betrayed a mind occupied by matters considerably less pleasant than the morning scenery.

Her gaze lingered upon the passing streets through the carriage window, but she was hardly paying any attention to the bustling city outside.

Several days had passed since she had dispatched a confidential correspondence to House Noctivane, and not a single reply had arrived.

Lady Seraphina drew a measured breath, her fingers resting against the delicate embroidery of her gown.

At first, she had regarded the delay as an ordinary inconvenience. After all, noble Houses were often occupied with internal affairs, and correspondence did not always receive immediate attention, particularly when the sender was attempting to call in a long-standing favour.

It was not as though Lady Seraphina herself lacked influence or the means to make others wait upon her requests. Nevertheless, the complete absence of a response had begun to trouble her.

The letter had hardly contained an insignificant inquiry that could be dismissed without consequence. It concerned one of her most troubling suspicions, a matter she had taken considerable care to express with appropriate discretion.

Moreover, she had chosen her words deliberately, ensuring that the correspondence conveyed both courtesy and the seriousness of the task she was asking House Noctivane to undertake.

Under ordinary circumstances, she could have issued a direct demand, invoking the authority and privileges that Great Houses were accustomed to exercising when circumstances warranted it.

Yet she had refrained from such and instead, she had chosen to invoke a favour owed to her, a courtesy that, while not legally binding, carried its own weight among families whose histories were intertwined by old obligations. Such arrangements were rarely written into official records, but neither were they easily forgotten.

Even so, all that politeness had earned her nothing but silence. She had sent a second letter, this time emphasizing the urgency of the matter and clarifying the potential consequences of leaving her request unanswered. Still, no reply had come.

Lady Seraphina’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her unease had gradually grown from a minor irritation into something far more persistent, following her through meetings, household affairs and even the quiet moments when she should have been resting.

She disliked uncertainty, especially when it involved another Great House. Silence could mean indifference, deliberate discourtesy or, more troublingly, an inability to respond.

The last possibility had become increasingly difficult to dismiss.

Her concern had only deepened after hearing the alarming news her son, Cedric, had obtained from the Third Princess.

The information had been unsettling enough on its own, but when considered alongside House Noctivane’s inexplicable silence, it had taken on a more ominous significance.

She had no proof that the two matters were connected, nor any reliable indication that House Noctivane was involved in the turmoil that Valoria might soon face.

Yet Lady Seraphina had lived too long among nobles to dismiss patterns merely because they lacked confirmation. Coincidences were common; convenient coincidences were another matter entirely.

Though she possessed no evidence capable of connecting House Noctivane’s silence to the imminent turmoil, she could not shake the nagging suspicion that the circumstances were far more interwoven than she had initially imagined...