OW: ASA - CH 96.5 - Interlude 5 - Investment

A/N: Hello!!!! Be very proud of me, I braved the wintery conditions of my living room in order to edit this. Also, this was mostly written while I was burrowed under six feet of blankets during the Great Florida Freeze.

Pls don't complain that it's short. The POV Character is my least favorite I've ever done and it was very taxing to write her.

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Interlude 5

Investment

Fall of Autumn, Week 4, Day 1

In the Duchy of Dawn, all was not right. And Countess Mallorica Dawn, the Duchess of Dawn, [Lady of Red Daybreak], did not know how to fix it.

On one hand, her heir apparent was brash, dumb, and disliked by his peers. Her oldest child hardly entered Twilight more than once a week —-insanity when compared to her own average of once a day. The boy was also dismally under-leveled, only just closing in on Tiering up by his coming of age. Yet again, incomparable to Mallorica herself, who had accepted her 2nd Tier at the age of 15 after braving an expedition to the Atelien mountain range in the dead of Winter. The boy will amount to nothing. He will do what is required of him and no more. Will the Duchy survive his rule? Likely. Will the Duchy thrive throughout it? There was a higher likelihood of Troya unfurling from the Red Sun. 

Eventually, one of his siblings will surpass him —either legitimately or by force. In the worst-case scenario, he will die, much like Mallorica’s aunts and uncles had at her father’s hand. In the best case, he will be shipped off to the most dangerous dens in the land, forced to hide his discontent until it consumes his very being. And then he will do something stupid because he never was very bright. Thus, he will die anyway—a useless heir.

Then, there was her ambitious eldest daughter. She certainly could have the power to rule the Dawn. If only the child would agree to a lateral Class progression upon Tiering up. Which the girl had assured Mallorica she would never do. This meant no amount of recommendations from Adeline’s Magic Tower, whether it be from a mere scribe or the Master of the Tower themself, could change the fact that she was permanently and irrefutably destined to be a branch family member. She can excel in etiquette all she wants, but she will be nothing more than a servant to the Head of House —whichever of her siblings it winds up becoming. She will be relegated to side businesses, granted lands hardly befitting an actual Countess, and likely forced to the frontlines of the next war. And then she will die, because she is a [Young Lady] meant for high society and dangerless expeditions no matter her Class. Yet again, useless.

Next, there was her perfect child. Well-liked, intelligent, had a perfectly respectable [Uncommon] Class. Mallorica frowned at the thought of her middle son. 

He had grown rebellious in recent months. Every act of compliance malicious. From his studious nature, which he had taken and weaponized against his instructors —forcing them to listen to his own tirades on the subject they have claimed mastery over. To his Class progression, which he so diligently worked on to the point of missing etiquette lessons and socials. Perhaps she could force his positive compliance. She could show him what he would be throwing away if he didn’t have the Dawn name to provide him with all the opportunity a child could desire. Alternatively, she mused, she could give him more importance. She could show him what it means to wield power over the masses, whether they be freshly Awakened babes or seasoned veterans. He was still young. Still fresh from his own Slumber. He was not useless yet.

Mallorica paused in her rumination and turned her chair to face an overly tall filing cabinet. She tapped the wood lightly with her index finger, the slow vibration of her mana running through her as she funneled it into the locking mechanism. Pulling open a drawer, her hands moved with the surety of someone who knew what they would find. 

Within her hands was a file, a rust-red folder containing a small stack of documents. Most were letters addressed to Countess Mallorica Dawn. These letters possessed two seals. The first, and most prominent, of which was a white wax seal embossed with the iconography of two doves carrying a single dagger between them. That was the seal of the Queendom —typically found on matters the Queen had approved of personally. To the bottom of the envelopes, nearly in the bottom right corner, was a seal made up of colorless wax. Inside said wax was a single gemstone, pressed dead center into the seal yet still reflecting rainbows across the paper. Thus, the second seal, while smaller, was of no less importance. It was the symbol of the Callistan Empire.

Mallorica knew what was inside. The Emperor Emeritus of the Callistan Empire was seeking a chance to educate the youth of Maeve and give guidance in good faith, all in the name of diplomatic relations. The Queen had asked Mallorica to consider who they should send. In other words, the Emperor Emeritus, despite stepping away from the Crown, has taken it upon himself to secure a hostage from Maeve under the guise of an official apprenticeship. And the Queen, shrewd as ever, has asked Mallorica to provide the ideal spy.

‘Two birds, one stone,’ as the saying goes.

Dropping the file on her desk, Mallorica had an ugly smile on her face. It was too wide and with too many teeth. The smile was a thing of satisfaction and distaste both. It did, however, reach her eyes.

It was as Mallorica was penning a letter to the Queen’s attendant handling the matter of the Callistan Empire that her mind began to wander again. The Countess, Overseer of the West, had nearly forgotten what had forced her to think about her three eldest children. 

She had received word that the fourth child would be arriving at her destination. The one with potential and problems both. Not quite useless, but certainly not useful.

Signing her name, Mallorica huffed a laugh.

The girl was in for a rude awakening if she thought that she would be continuing to disgrace the Dawn name in Fellan. Mallorica had given her aide a single directive. 

‘Teach her what it means to be too busy to breathe.’

Months that child had rotted in Mallorica’s manor. Months she had rejected what it means to be a Dawn. Months she locked herself away, for what had been assumed to be a subpar Awakening. But those whose Affirmations blind are not cursed with [Common] Classes. Thus, for months she had deceived Mallorica.

Mallorica had not questioned why her timid, brainless daughter had sequestered herself away. Had not thought the answer would be meaningful. Thus she had cast her aside. Did not even offer her a path to leading the Dukedom. Mallorica thought back to that stilted conversation all those weeks ago.

She had not even offered her a place in the Dusk. Or in the main family. No. Mallorica had told her she would serve as a mere noble. Or be sent to join the Conclave. Both of which would remove her from the line of succession. She would keep her name, but were she to marry she could never pass it on. She would grow, but only enough to serve others born to lesser fates. 

It was almost comical how, after the girl’s Affirmation, Mallorica had rushed to have Fellan become a source of true potential. Originally, she had assigned a few lower members of each institution to instruct the child. Mallorica was not even sure if she would authorize the use of Twilight.

However, a child so Divine could not be left to wither. 

She could not be given the option to fester.

It was a funny thing to Mallorica. How the worst of her brood by far would receive the most of her investment.

The girl would receive access to Twilight. She would get educators skilled and Skilled. She would be pushed to breaking. But, out of all that, Mallorica was sure the child would hate one thing the most.

Eunora would receive Mallorica’s attention.