The Reverie of a Mother

The gates of House Eisenwald loomed like teeth, black iron twisted into sharp curves, flanked by banners of deep slate-gray and crimson. Guards stood at attention in polished breastplates, their faces unreadable beneath ornate helms. Trumpets blared a brief salute as the Edelhardt carriage rolled through, a subtle reminder that appearances mattered here more than warmth.

Inside, the gardens were a spectacle of cold precision: hedges trimmed to near perfection, white roses interspersed with thorny vines, and fountains carved in the shapes of hawks and hounds. Even the spring air felt too disciplined, as if afraid to stir without permission.

"Wretched place," Annalise muttered under her breath, tugging at her gloves. "I feel like even the flowers are watching us."

Liora gave her a brief smile. "They're not watching. Just enduring."

Annalise snorted. "Like us, then."

The great hall of Eisenwald was even colder than its gardens. Gilded and stone-bare, with high arched windows and banners flanking every pillar, it felt more like a war council chamber than a ballroom. A string quartet played somewhere near the dais, but the music was distant, ceremonial, like a bell tolling in slow time.

"House Edelhardt!" the steward bellowed, voice echoing. "Heirs of Verdane, guests of honor."

Whispers rippled through the assembled nobles.

Liora descended first, cloak flowing behind her. Her hair was pinned simply, her expression composed. Michael followed, already stiff from the way eyes fell on them, assessing, weighing. Annalise kept close, her chin high. Mathilde skipped, excited despite the frost in the air, and Leopold trailed behind her, whispering something to Elias that made the younger boy stifle a laugh.

Duke Volker Eisenwald greeted them from atop the dais. He was a lean, imposing figure, his sharp cheekbones mirrored by the blade-like cut of his beard. Every part of him spoke of command, his crimson sash, his bronze pauldron, the silent threat in the way he looked at Michael as if measuring his worth down to the marrow.

"Welcome to Eisenwald," he said with the faintest nod. "We are honored by your presence."

Liora curtsied politely. "Your Grace. You honor us with your invitation."

"I hope the ride was not too tiresome."

"Not at all. The roads were clear."

"Good. We pride ourselves on maintaining order here."

Of course you do, Liora thought, but only smiled.

At his side stood Lady Gisberta, eyes narrowed, mouth in a polite line. She was seventeen now, taller than Michael by nearly a head, clad in deep burgundy and black. Her gaze flicked to him, unreadable.

"I'm sure the young Lord Edelhardt has been training hard," she said, voice smooth and deliberate.

Michael blinked. "I try, my lady."

"Try harder," Volker said without amusement. "Nobles do not inherit power. They earn it. Every day."

Michael nodded tightly, biting back a retort.

"Shall we?" Liora offered, motioning toward the hall. "The music is beautiful."

Volker smiled faintly. "Of course. Let us enjoy the season's charm."

The gathering was, by all accounts, a performance.

Nobles exchanged compliments like weapons sheathed in silk. House Eisenwald's bannermen made sure every corner held symbols of strength, antlers, swords, falcons mid-dive. Servants carried trays of rose-apple wine and thin, crisp wafers topped with salted cheese. No one raised their voice. No one laughed freely.

Liora kept near the children as long as she could. Michael had disappeared into a cluster of young lords at the request of Duke Volker, clearly a test. Annalise was speaking with a countess who seemed determined to marry her off in her head by midsummer. Leopold had found a boy his age who liked puzzle riddles. That left Liora trying to manage Mathilde and Elias, both of whom were increasingly restless.

"Mathilde," she warned, "do not eat the lemon tarts by the handful."

"But they're so small," Mathilde argued, mouth already full.

"And Elias," Liora said, eyeing him as he tried to pull a tablecloth edge. "You are not staging a puppet show."

He grinned. "Yet."

She sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. "Stay within view. Please."

They both nodded.