By late morning, Eldrin finally understood what Rowan had meant.
The estate wasn’t preparing for a celebration.
It was preparing for an invasion.
Not the kind that came with soldiers and burning villages.
This one came with servants.
They were everywhere.
Even the archive had been disturbed.
Two additional desks had been pushed against the walls. Several shelves had been cleared to make room for incoming records, while piles of manifests covered almost every available surface.
Eldrin sat behind the reception desk with a stack of papers in front of him.
He picked up the next sheet.
House Fenrath.
He had no idea who they were.
He placed it on the completed pile.
The next one.
A military commander with a title long enough to make Eldrin wonder whether the man had personally conquered half the kingdom.
He copied the information into the register and moved on.
Then came another.
Then another noble house.
Eldrin paused.
He looked at the growing pile.
How many people are coming?
And then, among the manifests, he saw a name that made him stop.
The Marian Royal Family.
Eldrin stared at the words for several seconds.
He quickly lowered his head and continued sorting.
Eldrin had barely reached for the next document when footsteps sounded across the marble floor.
Eldrin looked up.
A young man was approaching the reception desk.
He looked to be eighteen or perhaps a little older, though there was something in the way he carried himself that made the difference seem much greater.
His clothes were refined.
He stopped in front of the desk.
"Excuse me."
Eldrin straightened.
"Yes?"
The young man glanced toward the shelves.
"Where are the House Aravelle records?"
Eldrin looked toward the archive.
"Third aisle. Near the back."
The young man nodded.
"Thank you."
He turned and walked away.
Eldrin watched him for half a second before returning to the manifests.
He didn’t know it yet.
But that brief exchange had just introduced him to Lord Cassian Korrandis.
Cassian disappeared between the shelves.
Eldrin returned to the manifests.
For a few minutes, nothing happened.
Then a voice came from the third aisle.
"Excuse me."
Eldrin looked up.
Cassian was standing at the end of the aisle, holding an old leather-bound register.
"Do you have the records from three years ago?"
Eldrin thought for a moment.
"Those should be on the lower shelf. Second section."
Cassian looked down.
"Here?"
"Yes."
He pulled another book free and checked the label.
"Found it."
He glanced at Eldrin.
"You work here often?"
Eldrin hesitated.
"Yes."
Cassian gave a small nod and returned his attention to the register.
He opened it.
The pages were filled with old entries, trade records, property transfers and household expenditures.
He scanned them without much interest.
He wasn’t actually looking for anything particularly important.
He had simply wanted an excuse to find the Aravelles’ arrival information.
House Aravelle would be attending the Gala.
More importantly, Lady Elira Aravelle would be attending.
Cassian had met her during the previous academy term.
They were both third years.
They would both return next month.
He had spent an embarrassing amount of time convincing himself that his interest in her was merely because they happened to share several classes.
It wasn’t.
He knew that.
Unfortunately, knowing it hadn’t made speaking to her any easier.
He closed the register.
"Has House Aravelle arrived yet?"
Eldrin glanced at the manifests.
"Not yet."
Cassian nodded.
"Do you know when they are expected?"
"I only record their arrival."
"Right."
Cassian looked mildly disappointed.
He turned to leave.
Eldrin returned to his papers.
A few seconds later, Cassian walked away.
The morning continued.
More names arrived.
More servants came through.
And Eldrin slowly realized something else.
The Gala wasn’t simply an opportunity for House Korrandis to celebrate.
It was a place where important people from half the kingdom would be standing in the same room.
He wasn’t sure whether that was fortunate.
Or dangerous.
"Hey you,"