It had only been three days since Elena’s demonstration, and sure enough, she realized that reputation really was its own form of wealth—the much less stable variety.
Sitting at the rough wooden table in her room, Room 304 in the North Tower, surrounded by ledgers she had stolen, borrowed, or begged, Elena planned her slow spiral toward utter financial disaster.
Not all of her prospects were promising, either.
[NET WORTH: 387 GOLD CROWNS] [LIABILITIES: ACADEMY HOUSING – 12 CROWNS PER WEEK] [LIABILITIES: KAEL’S PROVISIONS – 8 CROWNS PER WEEK] [LIABILITIES: INTELLIGENCE NETWORK (UNAUTHORIZED) – 5 CROWNS PER WEEK] [PROJECTED INSOLVENCY: 14 WEEKS AWAY] In fourteen weeks, she wouldn’t have any shoes to put on her feet—or perhaps even less, if the Academy got itself good and riled up and somehow charged her double the housing fees, and if Kael got any more invested in food as a personal combat rating enhancement tool.
Daily casts of Golden Touch were not just draining; they were quite literally sucking her mana pool dry.
Juggling her mother’s finances and balancing ledgers had been emotionally draining as well, milking them for every last cent until her own heart bled.
This was no different, just with significantly more punctuation.
A fast knock once twice.
Three times before there were two more… all of this with a heavy thump clearly distinguishable through the door.
“Enter.” Kael entered her room, cloaked in a cheap, newly bought acquisition from a boat vendor.
He wasn’t really any bigger, as he was already quite large for his relatively humble standing, but he had bulked significantly in the upper body since her exhibition.
It had something to do with his dormant potential finally blooming, transforming him into this solid, broad-shouldered B-rank soldier, strengthening his bones until they were like iron at the smithy.
Even more telling was that his eyes—warm, brown, and so ridiculously normal—were focused on her.
They indicated that his current battle rank was high enough that the glamour usually coating his pupils wasn’t being activated, and they were sharp enough to pinpoint and slay a hawk mid-flight.
“Any news?” “His Grace, the Duke, had his soldiers leave the grounds this morning to make a rather public show of good-neighborly intentions regarding your ‘studies abroad’.
Unofficially, however, as we had correctly speculated, he has already begun to sever your private finances.
He wants to know exactly how long you can last without his money.” “Fourteen weeks, give or take, depending on how successfully the Duke bribed the bursar.” Kael cocked his head to the side.
“More money?” “More assets, Kael.
Assets, not liquid gold,” Elena corrected, standing up from her worktable and moving to the window of Room 304 to stare out at the vast, money- and extravagance-drenched expanse of the capital stretching far below the pristine grounds of the Academy.
“A B-rank combatant is, as of right now, nothing more than a deterrent, not an infrastructure.
A highly developed, multi-marketed, diversified investment portfolio is an infrastructure, allies from a variety of political contexts form an infrastructure, a set of varied power wielders over magic constitute an infrastructure.
You get the idea.
If His Grace wants to bankrupt me, someone better be manipulating tax laws favorable to my bankruptcy.
If the Church wishes to label me a heretic, someone better be rewriting and altering records.
If Celestine wishes to turn the student body against me, someone better be capable of turning them in my favor again.” She turned back around to face Kael.
“I’m going to need to unearth a few currently unrecognized riches hiding out there in this disgusting city.” Kael was quiet for a moment.
“A state banquet,” he stated, as if by pure chance.
“What?” “A state dinner, in three days,” Kael explained with an unnerving smoothness.
His eyes widened slightly in a well-practiced faux amazement, while the left corner of his mouth pulled up into a weak approximation of a smile that barely even reached his eye.
“All the honored students from the top academies will be there.
I heard the professors discussing it.
The seventh prince will attend.” Elena froze.
Lucien Asmodeus: The Trash Prince, Asset #2.
Normally, this character was completely unobtainable in a playthrough, only achievable through finding a secret route after several of the heroine’s own choices during an early portion of the game where no normal playthrough would take notice of such specific requirements.
He became fully available via three conditional choices only offered late in the game when the actual objective was nearly completed; otherwise, he was merely an irrelevant character.
His game-walkthrough lore detailed the extensive skill tree acquired from a lifetime of neglect and cruelty, ultimately leading to an authoritarian, S-ranked, black-market-fueled Iron Emperor ruling over the continent.
Elena had genuinely forgotten about the state dinner in the game; the villainess had never been invited.
She was an embarrassment, an inept failure, a glitch in the beautiful, functional tapestry of noble society.
“They must have some motive, after all,” Elena stated, the corners of her mouth pulling into a wide, genuine smile.
“Kael, get me an invitation.” “An invitation was already sent, delivered earlier this morning by messenger service.
It was seemingly meant to be discarded.
It would appear, however, that they mistyped your room number.” Kael then carefully unrolled one envelope, one that was cream colored with a very gaudy imperial seal.
Elena accept and then broke the wax seal to find a one short message scrawled onto a piece of paper begrudgingly, and yet politely stating Lady Elena Vance was invited to a state dinner hosted by His Imperial Majesty where one (1) guest would be allowed if they came in formally dressed.
“They want to see me burn, don’t they?” Elena mused, tilting the cream-colored envelope in her hand.
“They want to gloat over me during the most gilded and opulent event of the century.” “And are you going to fall?” “No.
I’m going shopping.” [TICK: Financial pressure established.] [TICK: State dinner invitation procured.] [TICK: Asset #2 confirmed present.]