The next pattern hovered between them, more labyrinthine still than the previous ones. Valentina noticed Faustus' hand twitch to a bulging, misshapen pouch on his belt – probably where he had hidden the Eye of Deceit.

  "Here it comes," warned Vyxara. "Let's see how he likes our little surprise."

  Faustus' eyes narrowed in concentration. His fingers moved in precise patterns, obviously activating the artifact. But instead of the expected distortion... nothing.

  "What...?" he mumbled in confusion and tried again. He repeated his movements again and again, more and more frantically and desperately.

  Valentina allowed herself a small smile and began to quickly mold the pattern that appeared before them to her specifications while Faustus was distracted. Her fingers danced through the glittering Essence threads while Faustus still struggled with the manipulated artifact.

  "Impossible," he hissed. "What have you done, you dirty little ...?"

  "Point for Valentina of Palewood!" announced Professor Emberfell. "The score is now four to zero."

  A murmur went through the hall. Duke Cosimo clapped appreciatively, his eyes fixed hungrily on Valentina.

  "You whore!" Faustus spat at her, completely beside himself. "Do you really think a peasant wench like you could defeat a Boarfend?"

  Some spectators gasped indignantly. Professor Emberfell took a step forward. "Master Boarfend, I must warn you..."

  But Faustus could no longer be reasoned with. Seeing his impending defeat, he lost his temper. "I bet you slept your way through half of Bridgewater to even be here. A cheap..."

  "Outrageous!" Duke Cosimo's voice thundered through the hall. "Such words are unworthy of a nobleman!"

  The final pattern appeared between them, one last masterwork of complexity. But Faustus made no further attempt to manipulate it. Instead, he began to weave a completely different pattern – one that Valentina knew from one of the previous rounds of the competition.

  Viur and Schate Essence merged into a dark, glowing beam. The air around Faustus darkened as he formed his weapon.

  "Die, harlot!" he screamed, aiming the vector of the pattern directly at Valentina.

  The audience cried out. Professor Emberfell raised her hands, but she was too far away to intervene.

  "Now!" ordered Vyxara. "The Shield Incantation!"

  It seemed to Valentina that time stood still, she faltered, felt panic rising, but with sudden clarity she remembered the Incantation Vyxara taught her months ago, when the demon explained to her that Amplifying Incantations didn't have to be in Altothal, that it was the vibrations, the pattern of the sound that mattered, not the words – and she began to hum. Not words, but a strange, meaningless sound that made the Ambient Essence around her vibrate. An opalescent shield materialized around her, absorbing Faustus' attack and dissolving it into a spectrum of rainbows.

  At the same time, she completed the manipulation of the competition pattern with her free hand. It was almost too easy – Faustus had completely given up his control.

  "Point and victory for Valentina of Palewood!" shouted Professor Emberfell over the thunderous applause, not quite managing to keep her deep satisfaction at the result out of her voice. "The final score is five to zero!"

  The hall exploded into cheers. Even the duke's courtiers clapped enthusiastically. Duke Cosimo had stood up, his face red with excitement.

  Faustus stood petrified, his face ashen. His Essence weapon had fizzled out, his reputation ruined. Some of his friends pointedly stayed away from him.

  "Unbelievable!" Duke Cosimo's voice boomed. "A truly remarkable performance! And that defense at the end – I've never seen anything like it!"

  Valentina felt her knees go weak. She had won. She had actually won. Her vision blurred. Her family...

  "Of course you won," Vyxara purred contentedly. "You're one of the best. And now everybody knows."

  The applause swept through the hall like a wave. Valentina suddenly found herself surrounded by people. Innogen threw herself around her neck, Crispin jumped up and down excitedly, and even students she hardly knew congratulated her effusively.

  "Quiet! Silence, if you please!" Duke Cosimo's voice thundered over the commotion. "Let the victor step forward!"

  The crowd parted. Valentina strode forward, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. The duke had risen from his chair and was holding a magnificent medal in his hands – the Greystone Medal for Excellence in Essence Weaving, a silver disk engraved with the crescent of the House of Greystone.

  "My dear Valentina," the duke announced, his eyes wandering unabashedly over her figure. "Today you have shown exceptional talent and remarkable grace. It is my pleasure to present you with this medal, which my house has awarded to the best Essence Weaver of each year for decades now."

  As he placed the medal around her neck, his hand brushed the back of her neck as if by chance. Valentina suppressed a shudder.

  "Be polite," Vyxara murmured. "He will be very useful."

  "Thank you, Your Grace," Valentina said with a graceful curtsey, as she had seen Innogen do from time to time.

  "And of course," the duke continued, his smile widening, "I expect you at the banquet this evening. As the guest of honor, you will dine at my side."

  Valentina felt the blood drain from her face. A banquet? At the duke's side? She didn't even have an appropriate dress!

  Before she could think about it any further, she was surrounded by the professors. Even the usually reserved Professor Veilford congratulated her warmly. Only Professor Horne remained in the background, his face a strange mixture of pride, suppressed lust, and apprehension.

  "Valentina." Professor Emberfell came to her last. For the first time since Valentina had known her, the stern professor smiled wholeheartedly. "That was an extraordinary achievement. You know, I myself won the Greystone Competition many years ago as a first year student. But your performance today..." She shook her head in admiration. "That defense at the end – I've never seen a technique like that."

  "Thank you, Professor," Valentina mumbled sheepishly.

  At the edge of the hall, she spotted Faustus sneaking off, followed by mocking glances and muffled laughter. Decan Valemont looked after him with anger in his face and beckoned one of the guards to his side. Faustus' attempt to attack her would probably have consequences for him. But she refused to think about that now.

  "Val!" Innogen pulled her aside. "You must come with me at once. We only have a few hours until the banquet, and forgive me for saying this, but you can't possibly show up in that dress!"

  "But I don't have anything else," Valentina whispered desperately. "And I can't afford anything either..."

  "Nonsense." Innogen waved his hand impatiently. "I'll take care of that. Come on now!"

  "Go with her," Vyxara advised. "A banquet at the duke's side – that could open up some interesting possibilities."

  While Innogen was pulling her out of the hall, Valentina heard Duke Cosimo's booming voice: "Hooray for the winner! And tonight we will celebrate!"

  The other students cheered, but Valentina only felt a nervous nausea in her stomach. She had done it, she had won the competition! Her family had been saved! But before she could even catch her breath and process what had just happened, she would have to prove herself in the aristocratic society of Sommerland, at a banquet, next to a duke in the flesh – a social battleground for which she felt even less equipped than she had for university.

  "Don't worry," Vyxara purred in her head. "You've just impressed the most powerful man in Duskenshire and perhaps the richest man in the realm. The rest will be a piece of cake."

  But when Innogen energetically dragged her to her room, Valentina wasn't so sure.

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  ~

  "Get out, Crispin!" commanded Innogen resolutely, shooing the confused young man out of her room. "This is not for men's eyes. Go... I don't know, go study or read a book or something."

  "But I wanted to..." Crispin began.

  "Later!" The door closed in his face.

  Innogen whirled around, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "So, now to you." She looked Valentina over from head to toe. "We have a lot of work to do."

  "Innogen, really, that's not necessary..." Valentina protested weakly.

  "Nonsense!" Innogen had already reached her enormous wardrobe. "You've just won the Greystone Competition! You'll be dining alongside Duke Greystone! And you'll look like a queen, I owe you that."

  "Owe me?" Valentina sank onto one of the upholstered chairs. "You don't owe me anything."

  Innogen paused in her frantic search. "Yes, I do. The last few months... you've been so distant, so withdrawn, so fanatical in your preparation. I knew you and your family were struggling. But I didn't do enough to..."

  "No." Valentina reached for her friend's hand. "You've always been there for me. Even when I... Even when I couldn't always be honest."

  "That's what I call understatement," commented Vyxara dryly.

  "Ha!" Innogen didn't even listen to her and triumphantly pulled a dress from the depths of her wardrobe. Heavy, dark red velvet flowed down her arms like wine. "This is it! With a few adjustments..."

  She reached for a small bell and rang it. Almost immediately, her maid appeared in the room, who had her own little room next to Innogen's. "Fetch Master Blackwood at once. Tell him it's urgent."

  "The tailor?" asked Valentina, startled. "But that must cost a fortune!"

  Innogen waved him off. "Father pays him every month anyway. Besides..." – she grinned mischievously – "he'll be thrilled to hear that his daughter is friends with the winner of the Greystone Competition."

  The tailor appeared in record time, a small, precise man with nimble fingers and sharp eyes. He immediately set to work, while two assistants he had brought along for the occasion pinned the dress with practiced hand movements. Valentina didn't know what was happening to her, everything happened so quickly.

  "The waist needs to be tighter," he mumbled around a handful of pins in his mouth. "The shoulders... yes, like this... and here we gather something..."

  Valentina stood there like a doll while the dress was being shaped around her. Meanwhile, Innogen ordered her maid around: "Aunt Rosalind's silver necklace... yes, the matching earrings too... and we need Amelia, she makes the most beautiful updos... Go into town right now and get her!"

  "That's too much," Valentina protested weakly.

  "Rubbish." Innogen squeezed her hand. "Let me do this for you. You're my best friend, and I was so afraid of losing you, so many secrets and we had so little time for each other.... But now I have you back. And tonight, the whole world will see how extraordinary you are."

  Valentina swallowed hard. If Innogen knew what secrets she really had...

  "Just enjoy it," Vyxara whispered. "You've earned it."

  The next few hours flew by. The dress was adjusted, Valentina's hair was washed and artfully pinned up, her face was discreetly powdered and her eyebrows plucked. Innogen taught her courtly etiquette on the side.

  "The duke will sit on your right – that is the position of honor. Use the cutlery from the outside in. Only sip the wine, no matter how many times it is poured. And if he gets too... pushy, give me a sign."

  Finally, everything was ready. Innogen led Valentina to the large mirror in the corner. "See for yourself."

  Valentina's breath caught in her throat. The beautiful woman in the mirror couldn't possibly be her. The dark red velvet flowed around her figure like liquid fire, the sophisticated tailoring emphasized her figure without appearing vulgar. Her hair was arranged in an elegant updo, individual strands gently framing her face. The silver necklace sparkled at her neck, directly above the Greystone Medal.

  "That... That's me?" she whispered in disbelief.

  "That's you." Innogen beamed. "You look like a princess."

  "Or like the daughter of a rich merchant," Valentina corrected dryly. "Let's not get carried away."

  Both of them burst out laughing. For a moment, they were simply best friends again, giggling together like they used to.

  "I don't know how I can ever repay you," Valentina finally said.

  "You don't have to pay anything back." Innogen hugged her carefully so as not to ruin her hair. "But promise me one thing: no more secrets between us, will you?"

  Valentina returned the hug, while Vyxara laughed softly in her head. "I promise I'll be as honest as I can."

  The bell of the Burning Tower began to toll – the banquet would begin in an hour.

  "Ready?" asked Innogen, handing Valentina a pair of silver-studded shoes.

  Valentina took a deep breath. "Ready."

  "It's going to be an interesting evening," Vyxara purred with barely suppressed anticipation.

  ~

  The main hall of Bridgewater University shone in the light of hundreds of Essence lamps. Crystal chandeliers cast rainbow-colored reflections on the festively laid tables, and the scent of exquisite food mingled with the sweet perfume of the noble guests.

  Valentina hesitated in the doorway, overwhelmed by the splendor.

  "Cheer up," whispered Vyxara. "You've earned your place here."

  A master of ceremonies struck the ground with his staff. "Valentina of Palewood, winner of the Greystone Competition!"

  All heads turned towards her. A murmur went through the hall. In her dark red velvet dress, with her hair pinned up and the Greystone Medal around her neck, Valentina looked like a young noblewoman.

  Duke Cosimo rose from his seat at the head of the high table. "Ah, our champion!" He approached her, his eyes shining with admiration. "You look enchanting, my dear. Allow me..."

  He offered her his arm and led her to her seat at his right side. As he did so, his hand stroked her back possessively. To her relief, Valentina discovered that Innogen would be sitting diagonally opposite her.

  "Wine for the winner!" cried the duke, and a servant immediately rushed over. "You absolutely must try this plump red from southern Clairmontine."

  The feast began. Course after course was served: game pies with candied fruit, quails stewed in honey, fish in saffron sauce, pies filled with exotic mushrooms. Valentina had never seen such delicacies before.

  "Just sip carefully," Innogen silently formed with her lips as the third course was served.

  The duke proved to be an entertaining host. He told anecdotes from court, paid charming compliments and made sure that Valentina's wine glass was never empty. With each course, he moved a little closer to her.

  "You know," he said confidentially as he reached for the decanter of wine, grazing her arm, "I'm always on the lookout for exceptional talent for my court. Especially for the great hospital in Dusktown, where some of the best Essence Weavers in the realm practice."

  Valentina felt her heart beat faster. A job with the ducal Essence Weavers – that would be a dream!

  "In the summer months, when there are no lectures," the duke continued, "you could stay in Dusktown as my personal guest. Only if you wish, of course..."

  "Let him fidget a little longer," Vyxara advised. "Play the humble daughter."

  "That is an extremely generous offer, Your Grace," Valentina said cautiously. "But I had hoped to visit my family in Palewood first. It's been so long..."

  "Ah!" The duke beamed. "A sense for family – one of the noblest virtues! Of course you must visit your family. After that, you will be most welcome in Dusktown."

  The conversation was interrupted by dessert – delicate confectionery that looked like little Essence patterns. Valentina noticed how many eyes were still on her. Other students whispered excitedly, the nobles eyed her curiously.

  "You'll get used to it," Innogen murmured to her as the duke turned briefly to his other neighbor at the table, Decan Valemont. "To the looks, I mean."

  Despite her initial nervousness, Valentina began to enjoy the evening. The food was delicious, the music from the minstrels enchanting and, for the first time in her life, she was wearing a truly beautiful dress. Even the Duke's intrusive attention was kind of intoxicating. And he was a captivating host.

  "Enjoy it," Vyxara purred contentedly. "This is just the beginning of your ascent."

  When the last course had been cleared and the musicians started a new melody, the duke leaned towards her. His hand rested meaningfully on hers. "May I hope that you will give me the pleasure of your company in Dusktown after your family visit?"

  Valentina smiled. "It would be an honor, Your Grace."

  The duke kissed her hand, his lips lingering a moment too long on her skin. "Wonderful! You'll see, you'll like Dusktown. And I... I will personally see to your education."

  Innogen gave her a meaningful look, but Valentina was too intoxicated by her triumph to worry. She hadn't just won the competition – she had won a place in this glittering world.

  "And that," commented Vyxara her thought with amusement, "is worth more than any medal."

  ~

  The steep stairs to her small attic room seemed endless to Valentina tonight. Her silver-studded shoes clacked on the worn steps, the heavy velvet of the borrowed dress rustled with every step. The Essence lamps in the stairwell had already burned down and cast flickering shadows on the walls.

  She unlocked her bedroom door and hesitated for a moment. The familiar confines of her attic room hit her like a shock after the splendor of the ballroom. Her narrow bed with the threadbare blanket, the rickety table, the old washbasin – everything suddenly seemed even poorer than usual.

  "Strange, isn't it?" murmured Vyxara. "How quickly you get used to good things."

  Valentina stepped in front of her small and tarnished mirror. The moonlight shining through her window made the Greystone Medal on her neck gleam. The young woman in the mirror looked like something from another world – elegant, self-confident, successful. Her cheeks were still flushed from the wine and the duke's compliments.

  "Did that really happen?" she whispered, "Did I really win?"

  "Oh yes," Vyxara purred contentedly. "You put them all in the shade. Even the oh-so-splendid Faustus Boarfend had to admit defeat to you."

  Valentina loosened the hairpins with trembling fingers. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders while the first tear rolled down her cheek.

  "I still can't believe it," she sobbed quietly. "Father was right all these years – it was right to send me here. I can really help our family. And now the duke, Dusktown..."

  "You've earned it," Vyxara said gently. "Every step, every sacrifice, every difficult decision – everything has led you here."

  Valentina carefully slipped off the magnificent dress and hung it accurately over her only chair. The moonlight made the red velvet shimmer like blood. She placed the Greystone Medal next to it – her first real triumph.

  In her simple underdress, she sat down on her bed. The competition, Faustus' defeat, the dress-up session with Innogen, the banquet... it felt like a dream within a dream.

  "Not a dream," Vyxara assured her. "This is just the beginning. The duke will sponsor you and you will become the best Essence Weaver in Sommerland. Soon you will complete your first year here, and when you receive your Master Weaver license after two more years at the university, the world will be open to you, like a ripe fruit just waiting for you to pick it."

  Valentina smiled through her tears. "We really did it."

  "Yes," the demon confirmed, "we have."

  When Valentina finally lay down, she could still hear the music of the banquet in the distance. Tomorrow she would give Innogen her dress back and put her old red one back on. But nothing would ever be the same again.

  With one last look at her medal, she closed her eyes and fell asleep, a smile on her lips.