When Valentina woke up the next morning, she blinked in the bright light and tried to block out the throbbing aftermath of yesterday's banquet.

  "Good morning, little Weaver," Vyxara purred in her head. "How does the triumph feel today?"

  "As if I've drunk too much of Duke Cosimo's expensive wine," Valentina mumbled and sat up carefully. Her head was pounding. Perhaps she really had drunk a little too much of the wine, despite Innogen's warnings.

  The red velvet dress Innogen had lent her hung carefully over the only chair in the room. Valentina gently stroked the soft velvet – a dress that was perhaps worth more than what her family earned from a whole harvest. She didn't know. She didn't even have the faintest idea how expensive such dresses really were.

  She staggered to the washbasin and splashed cold water on her face. When she looked up, she saw a strange sight in the stained mirror: Part of her hair, which she had probably overlooked last night, was still pinned up, albeit a little disheveled from the restless night. The subtle make-up that Innogen's maid had applied to her was smudged.

  "You look like a young noblewoman after a night of drinking," Vyxara commented with amusement. "The duke certainly seemed very taken with you."

  Valentina shuddered as she remembered Duke Cosimo's possessive touch. His hand stroking her back as if by chance, his lips lingering too long on her hand, his hungry gaze...

  "Don't be such a prude," Vyxara rebuked. "A powerful patron can be very useful. Especially one who has already offered you an internship with him in Dusktown."

  "I can imagine what he wants from this 'internship'," murmured Valentina as she tried to undo the complicated hairpins.

  Valentina began to comb her hair. The artfully braided strands came loose under the brush and fell over her shoulders like a dark waterfall. She looked at the Greystone medal sparkling in the morning light. The silver crescent of the House of Greystone seemed to smile at her.

  "It still seems like a dream to me," she whispered. "The victory over Faustus, the banquet, the duke..."

  "Definitely not a dream," Vyxara assured her.

  Valentina reached for her worn red dress – her best garment before last night. The coarse fabric felt rough after the silky softness of the borrowed velvet dress.

  "You should hurry," warned Vyxara. "Innogen is probably already waiting for you to return her dress. And don't forget – the day is guaranteed to have a few more surprises in store."

  "What do you mean?" Valentina asked suspiciously as she slipped into her old dress.

  "Oh, I don't know," purred the demon. "Let's just say Professor Horne will surely get back to you, too. The duke wasn't the only one undressing you with his eyes yesterday."

  Valentina shuddered slightly, but she pushed the thought aside. First she had to take the velvet dress to Innogen. The rest would come later.

  When she went to her door, ready to leave the attic, she found her first surprise – a small note had been slipped underneath. Professor Emberfell was waiting for her in her office after the breakfast.

  Valentina knocked softly on Innogen's door and entered when she heard the familiar "Come in!" from her friend. The contrast to her own attic room was, as always, overwhelming. Sunlight streamed through the high windows and the scent of fresh roses filled the room. Innogen sat at her dressing table while her maid brushed her golden locks.

  "Val!" Innogen jumped up, much to the displeasure of her maid, who was still holding the comb. "How are you feeling? The duke gave you quite a hard time yesterday with all this wine he offered you."

  "I'm fine," Valentina lied and lifted up the carefully folded velvet dress. "I wanted to give this back to you. And... Thank you. For everything."

  "Oh no," Innogen waved it off. "The dress is yours. Think of it as a belated present for all the birthdays we haven't been able to celebrate together because we hadn't met yet."

  "I can't accept that," protested Valentina. "It's far too valuable."

  Innogen turned to her maid: "Would you please leave us alone for a moment?"

  After the maid had left the room, Innogen pulled Valentina to the sofa. "Now listen to me. You're my best friend. You've just won the Greystone competition. Duke Cosimo himself has his eye on you..."

  "Oh yes, he definitely has," commented Vyxara with amusement.

  "...and you'll need clothes like this in the future. So just accept it."

  Valentina felt tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't know what to say."

  "Then just say thank you," Innogen smiled. Then her face became serious. "But as for the duke... be careful, Val. He has a reputation, as I already told you. He's known for... well, that he likes to 'nurture' young talent."

  "That doesn't have to be a bad thing," Vyxara purred. "A powerful patron can open many doors."

  "I know," Valentina said quietly. "But his offer to come to Dusktown..."

  "It's a great opportunity," Innogen completed the sentence. "But remember – you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Your talent speaks for itself."

  A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Crispin stuck his head in, his hair even more disheveled than usual. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

  "Come in," called Innogen. "We were just talking about Valentina's triumph. And about the duke. Valentina has aroused his interest."

  Crispin sat down in one of the upholstered armchairs. His expression darkened. "Has he..."

  "Let's talk about something else," Valentina interrupted him pleadingly. "For example, how best to manage the prize money. I have to get it to my family and the moneylender somehow, but I have no idea how to do that."

  "A new dress, a powerful patron and a fortune to manage," Vyxara commented with satisfaction. "You're making progress, little Weaver."

  "I wanted to talk to you about that," Crispin said eagerly. "My father has connections with a good banking house in Bridgewater."

  "Which one?" Valentina asked attentively.

  "The Whitestone & Sons bank," Crispin explained, pulling a small notebook out of his pocket. "They have an excellent reputation and manage the accounts of many students from good families. My father swears by their discretion."

  "And they would accept someone like me as a customer?" Valentina asked skeptically.

  Innogen snorted. "You're the winner of the Greystone competition! Of course they will."

  "The prize money is not inconsiderable," said Crispin, scribbling figures in his notebook. "How much does your family owe the moneylender?"

  Valentina named the sum. Innogen made a shocked face. "That's more than I thought."

  "With interest," Valentina explained bitterly. "He charges thirty percent a year."

  "What a robber," Crispin was indignant, "that's criminal!"

  "Welcome to the real world, little nobleman," Vyxara commented sarcastically. "How else do you think poor people get loans?"

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "The most important thing is that we pay off as much of this debt as possible," said Innogen with a practical mindset. "The longer we wait, the more interest accrues."

  "But how?" asked Valentina. "I can't carry the money to Palewood in a sack."

  "There are bills of exchange for that," Crispin explained. "The bank will issue you with a bill of exchange that your father can cash at the moneylender. Completely safe and legal."

  Another knock on the door interrupted her. The maid stuck her head in. "Sorry to disturb you, but Professor Emberfell has sent for Valentina..."

  "Yes, yes, I'm going," sighed Valentina. "But what about the rest of the money?"

  "We can talk about that later," said Crispin. "I'll accompany you to the bank after your conversation with Professor Emberfell. I'll walk there and talk to Master Eldred."

  "How practical he is," Vyxara mocked. "Almost as if he'd been planning this for some time."

  "And don't forget," Innogen called after her as Valentina headed for the door, "you need money for yourself too! New clothes, books, Distilled Essence..."

  "The debt first," said Valentina firmly. "Everything else can wait."

  She stopped briefly in the corridor and took a deep breath. The morning had already exhausted her emotionally, and the conversation with Professor Emberfell was still to come.

  "Innogen is right, you could use some of the money for other things," Vyxara remarked.

  "No," said Valentina quietly but firmly. "The money goes to my family. They risked everything so that I could study here."

  "How touchingly selfless," purred the demon. "But don't forget – sometimes you have to invest in yourself first in order to be able to help others even better later on."

  Valentina ignored the comment and made her way to Professor Emberfell's office. Her thoughts were already revolving around the upcoming conversation with the strict professor.

  "Don't worry," Vyxara reassured her. "After your triumph yesterday, she'll be most interested in promoting you."

  On the way to Professor Emberfell's office, Valentina noticed the change in the way her fellow students looked at her. Where she had previously been ignored at best, she was now greeted with respectful nods. Some students even avoided her with reverence.

  "See?" commented Vyxara, amused. "Success changes everything."

  Professor Emberfell's office was on the second floor of the west wing. The heavy oak door was decorated with complex Essence patterns, the exact purpose of which Valentina wasn't quite sure, perhaps they were alarm patterns. She knocked.

  "Come in!" Professor Emberfell's voice sounded unusually warm.

  The office was a high, light-flooded room. Books and scrolls were piled up on heavy shelves. Professor Emberfell sat behind her massive desk, piled high with documents.

  "Thanks for coming on such short notice, Valentina." The professor pointed to an upholstered chair. "Have a seat. We have some things to discuss."

  Valentina took a seat and folded her hands nervously in her lap.

  "First of all," Emberfell began, "I would like to congratulate you once again on your impressive victory. I especially liked your defense against Faustus' attack. You'll have to tell me more about it sometime."

  "Careful," Vyxara warned. "She'll have questions about the Amplifying Incantation."

  "Thank you, Professor," Valentina said carefully.

  "Hmm." Emberfell leaned back. "Well, the Decan and the Faculty have already met this morning to discuss the events. Especially about Faustus' behavior."

  She pulled a document out of a pile. "His attack on you was absolutely unacceptable. He has been placed on probation with immediate effect. If he commits even one more infraction, he will be expelled from the university."

  "But... what about his family?" Valentina asked in surprise.

  "Will have no choice but to accept that." Emberfell smiled thinly. "The duke himself insisted. Apparently Faustus's behavior has... personally offended him."

  "Perfect," purred Vyxara. "Your new patron is already making himself useful."

  "But enough of that." Emberfell leaned forward. "Let's talk about your future. The duke has told me of his offer to invite you to Dusktown."

  "Yes," said Valentina hesitantly. "But only after I've visited my family."

  "Of course, of course." Emberfell nodded. "But have you given any thought to your future academic career? With your talent, there are many paths open to you."

  For the next half hour, they discussed various options for Valentina's future specialization. Emberfell particularly recommended studying medical Essence applications – an area where there was a great need for talented Weavers.

  "And don't forget," Emberfell concluded, "that as the winner of the Greystone competition, you enjoy special privileges. Access to the restricted section of the library, for example."

  "As if we didn't already have it," Vyxara commented dryly.

  "Thank you, Professor," Valentina said sincerely. "I really appreciate your help."

  ~

  The bank was located in an imposing stone building near the market square, with the Whitestone family crest – a white building block on a blue background – above the door.

  "Don't worry," Crispin whispered when he noticed Valentina's hesitant look. "Master Eldred is an old friend of my father's."

  The banking hall was a high, light-flooded room. Merchants and financiers in expensive clothes stood at polished wooden counters, while employees busily wrote in large account books with their inky fingers. Valentina felt out of place in her plain dress.

  "Don't forget who you are now," Vyxara admonished her. "The winner of the Greystone Competition, favorite of the duke."

  Master Eldred turned out to be a small, precise man with large rivet glasses. He received them in a wood-paneled office that smelled of leather and ink.

  "Ah, you must be Valentina?" he greeted her with a slight bow. "Master Gillespie has already told me everything. My warmest congratulations on your triumph."

  "Thank you," murmured Valentina. "I would like to issue a bill of exchange..."

  "Of course, of course." Eldred pulled out a form. "To the moneylender in Palewood, I understand? What are the terms of the original loan?"

  When Valentina mentioned the interest rate, Eldred grimaced. "Thirty percent? Scandalous. If only your family had gone to a reputable bank..."

  "As if he would ever have given a loan to someone like your father," Vyxara commented sourly.

  An hour later, everything was settled. Most of the prize money would go to the money lender by bill of exchange. It would not completely pay off the debt, but would at least significantly reduce the interest burden.

  "And what about the rest?" asked Crispin. "You need money for yourself too."

  Valentina hesitated. "I don't know..."

  "He's right," Innogen intervened. "You really do need new clothes Valentina, and books, supplies of Distilled Essence."

  "But my family..."

  "Will be proud that their daughter is successful," Innogen interrupted her gently. "You've earned it, Val."

  "Listen to your friends," purred Vyxara. "A little selfishness is sometimes necessary."

  After some hesitation, Valentina agreed to keep a small portion of the money for herself. Mr. Eldred paid her the modest sum – which nonetheless seemed like a fortune to Valentina.

  "You should also put something aside for your dowry," he smiled paternally. "That's important for a young lady."

  Valentina and Innogen smiled sourly. As they left the bank, Valentina felt strangely light. A huge weight had fallen from her shoulders.

  "Are you as hungry as I am?" asked Innogen. "I'll buy you lunch. Something really tasty. We need to celebrate."

  ~

  The following days turned out to be some of the best days Valentina had ever spent at Bridgewater University. The final exams of the year were coming up and Valentina knew that she had neglected her friends during the competition period due to all the pressure and her many secrets. Now she was even more committed to sharing her knowledge and skills with her friends and helping them prepare for the final exams. Every afternoon, Valentina, Innogen and Crispin met in the library, surrounded by stacks of books and piles of parchments.

  "So again," Valentina said patiently as she drew a complex Essence pattern in the air. "The resonance between Leb and Viur follows a precise geometric pattern. See how the lines intersect here?"

  Innogen frowned intently and tried to imitate the pattern. "But why does the resonance increase at this point?"

  "Because..." Valentina faltered briefly. She had this knowledge from Vyxara and Professor Horne, but she had to be careful not to make it too obvious. "Because the Essence currents here have a natural tendency to amplify. Like a river that flows faster at a narrow point."

  "Well explained," praised Vyxara. "Not too technical, but precise enough."

  Crispin was busily making notes in his worn notebook. His fingers were smeared with ink and a soft curl kept falling into his forehead. "This could perhaps be the key to my conservation project..."

  "Shh!" hissed Matilda Ravencroft from her seat. The librarian eyed her small group suspiciously, but she hadn't given any direct admonishments since Valentina's victory.

  They worked until the evening.

  "I finally understand this," Innogen said enthusiastically as they packed up their books. "You explain it much better than Professor Veilford."

  "She really understands it," Crispin murmured admiringly. "Not just in theory, but..."

  A loud growl from his stomach interrupted him. All three of them burst into suppressed giggles.

  "Dinner?" suggested Innogen. "I hear they're having meat pies tonight."

  They made their way to the dining hall. The corridors were filled with the murmur of hungry students. Valentina enjoyed these moments of normality, of simply being together with her friends.

  Over lunch, they continued to discuss the upcoming exams. Other students joined them, attracted by Valentina's new status as the winner of the competition.

  "Could you help us prepare too?" Edgar asked shyly. "These resonance patterns are so confusing..."

  "Of course," said Valentina without hesitation. "We could organize a larger study group."

  "How generous," Vyxara scoffed. "Wasting your knowledge on these mediocre nobodies."

  "That's really nice of you," Innogen said later, as they made their way to their rooms. "You could be playing the big lady now, but instead you're helping everyone."

  "You've always helped me too," Valentina replied simply. "It's the least I can do."

  They reached the point where their paths diverged – Innogen to her luxurious rooms, Crispin to his room, and Valentina to her attic room.

  "Tomorrow again?" Crispin asked hopefully.

  "Of course," smiled Valentina. "We prepare for the exams together."

  As she climbed the stairs to her chamber, she felt strangely content. For a moment, everything was simple and clear – no demons, no dangerous secrets, just friendship and learning together.

  "Enjoy it while it lasts," said Vyxara gently.

  A note under her door confirmed the demon's words. A message from Professor Horne.

  Professor Horne's message was short and formal, written in his characteristically shaky handwriting: "I expect you in my office this evening at the eighth hour. The matter cannot be delayed."