It could not be said that she lacked flair. Those in the capital were, if not merely accustomed to, then expecting of spectacle. One could not always be interesting, yet one could always arrange for interesting things to be present.

  The centrepiece of this evening was a hundredth scale of the planned library. At two strides across, it was not a small centrepiece either. To show it off better, it had been as if cut in half, one side hinged so it could be opened.

  Unlike her tenth scale room, this one featured the other two floors. To support those floors, her lead architect had included many, many arches. Unlike churches and cathedrals which tended to be narrow, necessitating more pointed arches, this building had enough breadth to feature half-circles. This was another area where he had hoped to use metal or cement, yet she could not permit that.

  Perhaps for his next great building.

  The scale model was made authentically too, that the walls were made of tiny bricks, the ground beneath it a layer of concrete; the only caveat was that, although close, these bricks and such weren’t precisely a hundredth of a real brick. It also included tiny bookcases, with tiny blocks of wood shaped and delicately painted to look like books. People, too, graced the building, so very neatly carved, fashioned in tiny, near-authentic clothing.

  This was important, in her estimation. A drawing lacked scale. However, once the scale was realised, it seemed awfully vast, unnaturally so. If the model was emptied out but for a single person, no one would see the value in it.

  Like this, though, there was an incredible sense of vibrancy. One could see three men sat on a bench, books on their laps, arms up as if in animated conversation. A group of women made a circle, books clutched to their chests, their conversation more modest. On the top floor, some youths had an air of conspiracy with their huddled mass and lowered heads.

  People would happily spend money on spectacle. At least, those in the capital would. People with so much money they couldn’t find enough ways to spend it. Hedonism, no, this was even more self-centred, an intense belief that the world owed them entertainment. Money was not much different to power in how it took a person’s senses and turned them ever inwards, gnarled and scarred. So this taking of their money counted, in her opinion, as a great act of charity.

  And when it came to charity, she did not do things half-heartedly.

  “One has to remember that we need only borrow an old book and then may print as many copies as necessary. If we should then need more, we only need make copies of the last copy, no? So it is that I have already spoken with quite a few enjoyers of the classics that we may borrow parts of their collection to provide the library a start.”

  Lady Ravensheim nodded along, her eyes a touch pinched, age hardly something which went backwards. “It really is quite the interesting proposal, I must say.”

  She paused to give a gentle smile. “Likewise, I am not asking to be given money, only borrow it. The building materials must be bought upfront, yet I am loath to take loans. Those moneylenders and merchants, they would rather like to conspire against me, I am sure. All they need do is cause delays and they could live a lavish life off the interest.”

  Her tone did not fall into anger; however, there was an unmistakeable righteousness which rather infected Lady Ravensheim—and all the more so her husband.

  “It does seem that we are accosted at least once a week, asked if we need a loan.” He paused to scoff. “Then, when we decline, they ask if we would be interested in someone offering loans on our behalf! The sheer audacity of them, let me tell you.”

  “Yes, dear, do tell her and everyone else,” Lady Ravensheim said, her voice a blend of forced levity and resigned humour.

  She gave a polite laugh. “Let me bring up another matter, then, as I have heard that my guests’ niece is about the age for furthering her education. While I hate to boast, Augstadt has opened a school for young ladies. I really could say so much about it; however, I think a visit is all that is necessary to know whether it would be right or wrong for Miss Anna. Would sir’s sister and her husband be interested in a visit? My husband and I have properties to accommodate them if they wish to make a trip of it.”

  “I have always said Anna is too clever for her own good, have I not?” Lady Ravensheim said, turning to her husband with a certain look.

  He gave a single chuckle. “You do say that, and I always ask what good is it for a lady to be clever.”

  “Oh what good it is,” she said, interrupting with a light clap. “One can certainly rely on others to be clever; however, to be clever oneself allows one to ensure that others’ cleverness is suitably clever and neither too clever nor not clever enough.”

  Lady Ravensheim tittered at that, a smile left behind when she lowered her hand. “Oh Julia, when others ask of you, it is your way with words that first comes to mind. Such a poignant point wrapped up like an amusing dessert. Clever ladies make for more interesting conversations, isn’t that so, dear?”

  Although he grumbled, his pleasant expression made clear his heart wasn’t in it.

  Rather, it was she who waved off Lady Ravensheim, a touch of discomfort in her expression. “I think it unnecessary to say such. The Lord has graced us all in our own ways, that we all have our places in life, and our own peace to find. It is a beautiful thing to work on God’s gifts, that is all. If Miss Anna finds the school a good place to do so, then that is beautiful; if not, that has beauty too, that sometimes we must learn where we do not belong before we may find where we do….”

  She trailed off at the end, her voice losing some nerve, at which point she gave an awkward smile and bowed her head for a moment, then raised it back, her smile calm and expression warm.

  “Forgive me, I may have spoken too much.”

  What she had—seemingly accidentally—alluded to hardly subtle, Lady Ravensheim gave a sympathetic smile and a small nod. “I cannot think where you spoke too much. Rather, it is good for the youngsters to speak their mind. My mother and her mother before her thought it uncouth for a woman to have opinions. Something which I endlessly struggled with, so full of opinions myself. Still, with age, I have come to understand where they were right, and where I was wrong, and where they were wrong, and I was right. You are rarely careless with words, so I take it as a compliment that you are comfortable around this old lady.”

  She gave a small laugh, eyes thinned by the broad smile she hid behind her hand, a smile more measured once her hand moved away. “Which old lady? I wouldn’t think Lady Ravensheim would talk of others in such a way.”

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  “Oh Julia, if only I had another son, I never would have let someone else marry you,” she said, tittering once more.

  All of a sudden, she became bashful and lowered her head. “I apologise for being rude; however, I am rather satisfied with my husband.”

  With the ladies moving into more domestic topics ill-suited to men, Lord Ravensheim made a subtle departure to other conversations. While not a conscious move, even for these more casual occasions others picked up on the movement of people, the empty space he left soon filled by two other ladies.

  For a time, their conversation meandered more. Not for long, though, as she noticed the sudden, subtle shift in the lady opposite her, more composed, managing her expression. Sure enough, a voice sounded behind her.

  “Really, it does seem too grand a project for My Lady.”

  He was Lord Landau. More could have been thought about him; however, she had no need. With a half turn, she made sure he understood she regarded him. “Ma’am.”

  With a look equal parts disbelief and confusion, he said, “I beg your pardon?”

  “There are many ladies here this evening and one princess. Address me correctly, Lord Landau.”

  For a moment, he seemed to consider making a fuss, yet what fuss could be made? So he settled on his original statement once more. “Ma’am, it really does sound too grand a project for you, even with the prince’s help.”

  “Then sir should leave.”

  Although she had not spoken harshly before, it had been firm, whereas she spoke these last words with a nonchalance, spoken as if these words hardly needed to be said at all. That it was the obvious reply to what he had said.

  It left him reeling, all the clever things on the tip of his tongue suddenly sour, his mouth pressed tight. After he swallowed them, he cleared his throat—after she had already turned around.

  She gave a small sigh, but still put on a polite smile. “Does sir need something before he leaves?”

  “I have to say, to ask me to leave over that question…” he said, the way he trailed off leaving an unspoken implication that she quite honestly didn’t understand.

  Still, she politely frowned. “This is a small gathering of peoples interested in this project. If sir is not interested in it, then I made clear in the invitation that my husband is not around to entertain guests. I really cannot think what else sir expects of me.”

  Once again, she turned around without waiting for his answer. This time, though, he looked beyond her to two others in the circle, saw the looks they gave him. They were not unpleasant looks, of course; however, he understood which of him and the host was favoured, that moment of reflection enough to humble him on this occasion.

  Meanwhile, she continued on as if there had been no interruption at all.

  “Does Lady Ravensheim recall when I first hosted here? Oh, everyone gave such helpful suggestions for the bazaar, I really would have been beside myself on my own. It was while going over the notes and invoices afterwards that I noticed something… peculiar.”

  It was Miss Mammengard—a lady’s daughter, soon to be a lady of her own as she was soon marrying a young lord—who picked up the thread of conversation. “Pray tell, what peculiar thing did Ma’am notice?”

  “What I noticed, well, those who gave the cheapest prices and shortest times always ended up taking longer than they said and asked for more money.”

  Something of a titter escaped the other two as Lady Ravensheim offered a wry smile. “Indeed, commoners would make any promise for money.”

  She tilted her head. “That is true for some, less so for others. As I noticed those who did not live up to their promises, I noted those who did, that I have tasked them with other matters over the years. They may not be the cheapest nor the fastest, yet they are reliable and true to their word. To rush is to invite mistakes, and they pay well that they have no shortage of talented workers,” she said.

  Although it was not an abrupt pause, it brought about a sudden silence that begged to be filled. Miss Spalt—another lady’s daughter, recently engaged to a lord’s son—spoke up this time.

  “What talent is there in, well, building?” she asked lightly as if a joke. It was not an unreasonable question, especially with how the other two gave no particular reaction to it.

  Julie smiled. “I cannot say, only that it is clear to me that the buildings these people build are sturdy and beautiful for what they cost. What else should I call that if not talent?”

  Another question that was not unreasonable, her three guests without response but for a little look between each other. The moment was soon broken as her maid entered the room with an envelope and quickly, yet not hastily, walked over to her mistress with it.

  “Ah, let us see…” she said, speaking to herself while certainly not mumbling. “Oh my.”

  “Interesting news, is it?” Lady Ravensheim asked, her tone carefully not too interested nor entirely disinterested.

  She lowered the letter with a warm smile. “Indeed—we have already raised half the funds.”

  “That is good news,” Lady Ravensheim said, a brightness to her voice, only for what that meant to then dawn on her. A moment after, it reached the other two as well.

  A quarter of a million thalers. At least, that was what they believed half of her goal was.

  Which lady did not have some understanding of money? The grand figures she had spoken of, well, it wasn’t uncommon to ask for a hundred and settle for ten. However, now, there was a sudden weight to her request.

  “Perhaps I need not have bothered My Ladies, that the funding will already be there upon my return. Still, it is not as if I invited everyone for that reason, any excuse to liven up these cold months.”

  From there, the conversation drifted, and then so did the people, so did the news, the event small enough that she spoke with each person of these matters and more. That had been her life these recent months, countless little conversations. Without her husband present, though, she could avoid serving meals for most of these occasions, instead more like afternoons teas.

  Yet what little help that was when the issue was simply how wide a net she necessarily had to cast.

  “Mr Cromer, how did Lord Landau take his leave?” she whispered—not out of secrecy, but to preserve her voice. To further aid that, her maid poured a cup of honeyed tea.

  As for her butler, he gave a deep sigh, albeit a silent one. “It would seem he held a certain grudge. I may meet an old friend tomorrow to learn if he still nurses it in the morning,” he said, the suggestion not framed as a question.

  Still, she answered with a nod. “Please do. I have little need for his money, yet he would be a useful link to those French authors he entertains. Regardless, there is no rush, this an avenue to pursue when my husband returns.”

  For a moment, for a while, silence settled, swirled around in her cup, softened the distant sounds of a busy evening. The capital did not much care for the dark, ever more effort put into staving off its embrace that little longer. Or rather, these people of the capital, they had little regard for the cost of a fireplace, for thick clothes, for carriages and horses. Money only had use to them insomuch as it allowed them to disregard the world and those who inhabited it.

  “Did a letter from Sir Matteo arrive this evening?” she quietly asked.

  Her butler bowed his head. “One did, as madam anticipated. His phrases say that the initial deposits have been placed and the concrete should be poured soon. As for the funding, it has slowed down since madam’s departure; however, it is still sufficient to not delay the schedule so long as the time here proves fruitful.”

  Her lips quirked into a crooked smile. “I have been made a fool,” she whispered.

  He gave a small shake of his head. “Please understand, madam, you are not far off your father’s age when he passed. He accomplished great things, as did your mother. I saw them happen with my own eyes. That is why I can say that you have continued their legacy, and I ask that you look at yourself as clearly as you do others.”

  It was not an impassioned speech, but level, clear, and it carried a certain weight. She knew her butler not one for empty praises, nor did he have any particular need to ingratiate himself with her after all this time.

  At the same time, his request had a foolishness to it, that her particular problem was that she clearly saw herself and her situation. “Mr Cromer speaks well. Perhaps I do hold my parents in greater esteem than they were, in my eyes none greater than them. That said, as it is, it is not so much that I believe myself insufficient, merely that I wish to be greater still. The more I may accomplish sooner, the greater the momentum with which to bring everything to completion,” she said, ending in a sigh.

  Those words did not merely refer to the current project, something which the two others present knew keenly.

  “Gianna, did you learn anything?” she whispered.

  Her maid took a moment to steady herself with a breath. “A doctor is staying with Lord Ravensheim’s neighbour, and was called to the Royal Palace in the early hours yesterday.”

  She stilled for a moment, then settled into a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “How interesting.”