After breakfast, Valentina stepped out into the crisp morning with her father. The sun was still low and the dew glistened on the grass. A light haze hung over the fields, giving the landscape an almost surreal atmosphere.
"It's good to have you back," Aldwin said quietly as they walked side by side along the well-trodden dirt path. "We've missed you."
Valentina felt a lump in her throat. "I missed you too," she replied. The familiar smells of damp earth and freshly scythed grass brought back memories of more carefree times.
"Your father is plagued by worries," Vyxara commented attentively. "He's glad he can talk to you about it. He values your opinion."
Valentina saw the new wrinkles around her father's eyes, the stooped posture that bore witness to years of hard work. He wasn't even that old yet.
"What about the harvest?" she asked when they reached the first field.
Aldwin sighed heavily. "Not good, I'm afraid. The rain came too late, and then it was too much all at once. See those yellow patches over there? The grain is rotting on the stalk."
Valentina looked at the ailing plants. With a practiced eye, she recognized the Essence patterns that influenced growth. Almost unconsciously, she began to make subtle adjustments to improve the flow of Essence.
"What are you doing?" her father asked in alarm.
"I'll help a little," Valentina explained. "Don't worry, it's nothing dramatic. I'm just trying to optimize the natural flow of the Essence."
Aldwin frowned. "Isn't that dangerous? I've heard that Essence Weaving can be unpredictable in farming."
"Only if you don't know what you're doing," Valentina reassured him. "I'll be careful, I promise."
They walked on, past fields of barley and oats. Valentina saw signs of the difficult conditions everywhere: withered leaves, stunted fruit, pest infestation.
"You could do so much more," Vyxara whispered enticingly. "With a few targeted interventions, you could double the harvest. Imagine how grateful your family would be."
"No," Valentina thought firmly. "That would be too risky. I can support the natural processes, but I can't intervene too much. I won't be here to constantly monitor everything. If the plant growth becomes dependent on a Weaver being on site to keep everything in balance, that would be terrible."
They reached a small hill from where they could see a large part of the farm. In the distance, Valentina saw smoke rising from the chimney of the neighboring farm. A flock of crows rose screeching from a nearby field, far too many of them for her liking.
"What about our financial situation?" asked Valentina cautiously. "Has the prize money helped?"
Aldwin nodded slowly. "It saved us, Valentina. Without the money, we would have lost the farm. We were able to pay off the most pressing debts and even have some left over for seeds and some more manure."
He hesitated for a moment before continuing: "But we're not out of the woods yet. The interest on the remaining debt is high, and if the harvest from the summer sowing is as bad as the harvest from the winter sowing, we'll have to think about something..."
Valentina felt her stomach tighten. "How much more do we need?"
Her father named a sum that took her breath away. The Duke had promised her a small reward for her work at his hospital this summer, but it was nowhere near enough. Perhaps she would have to negotiate with the bank in Bridgewater. Better debts there than with the cut-throat moneylender her parents had gone to in their time of need.
"You could easily earn it," Vyxara purred. "A few nights in the right beds and your family would be free of all worries."
Valentina pushed the thought aside, even though it brought with it an unexpected twinge of temptation.
"I'll find a way," she said firmly. "Maybe I can make contacts in Dusktown who can help us."
Aldwin looked at her with both pride and concern. "You've changed, Valentina. When did my little girl get so big and assertive?"
They reached a small grove at the edge of the field. Valentina remembered how she had often played here as a child. The old pear tree was still standing, its gnarled branches outstretched like inviting arms.
"Is that good or bad?" she asked quietly.
Her father was silent for a moment. "Both, I think. You've become so confident, so... powerful. That makes me proud. But it also scares me a little. No father likes to see his children grow so much over his head that they can get in problems that he can't solve for them. "
He turned to her and placed his rough hands on her shoulders. "What you did to Brentwood... That was impressive, but also dangerous."
"He's not wrong," Vyxara intervened. "You could have been more subtle. Or... more drastic."
Valentina felt a pang of guilt. "I only wanted to protect Adeline. And all of you."
"I know," Aldwin said softly. "You're walking tall now. Looking everyone straight in the eye. Even old Brentwood." A small smile flitted across his face. "You know what people in the village say? 'Aldwin's daughter has more backbone than the sheriff'."
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Valentina felt the blush rise to her face. "And what do you say to that?"
"I'm proud of you. But be careful. The sheriff is a friend of Brentwood. If he gets wind of how you gave him a dressing-down..."
"Then I'll take care of it," Valentina said with a firmness that surprised herself. "If the sheriff gives you any trouble, you must let me know at once and I will turn to Duke Cosimo. The Earl of Palewood is his liege and the Earl will not miss an opportunity to put the sheriff in his place."
"Oh yes," whispered Vyxara. "I'd love to see that."
Aldwin looked at her for a long time. "Sometimes I wonder what they teach you there in Bridgewater," he finally said. "But I trust you, Valentina. You have a good heart."
He pulled her into a tight embrace. Valentina snuggled against his chest and breathed in his familiar scent of earth and sweat. For a moment, she was once again the little girl who roamed the fields with her father.
"I've missed you, Father," she whispered.
"Me too, my darling," he replied in a raspy voice. "More than you can imagine."
She broke away from her father and they walked on. "I'll find a way," she promised, "to pay the debt. And more."
"I know," her father said quietly. "That's what scares me sometimes."
Valentina followed him as she thought about his words. About his worries, his fears – and about how right he was.
~
When Valentina returned to the house with her father, her mother Mabel was standing in the kitchen, her sleeves rolled up, waiting for her.
"There you are," she smiled. "Valentina, dear, could you help me hang up the laundry?"
"Of course, Mother," Valentina replied and reached for the heavy laundry basket.
There was a gentle breeze outside in the courtyard, which made it easier to hang up the damp sheets. Mabel began to hang up the smaller items of clothing while Valentina shook out the large sheets.
"How was your conversation with your father?" Mabel asked casually.
Valentina hesitated briefly. "Good, we've talked about the fields and... about the financial situation."
Mabel nodded seriously. "Times have been hard, Valentina. Your prize money was a blessing."
After a moment of silence, Valentina broached the subject that had been on her mind since her arrival: "Mother, I have to ask you something. How could you even consider marrying Adeline to Brentwood?"
Mabel froze in mid-motion, a shirt half-hung up. She sighed heavily. "Oh Valentina, you can't imagine how desperate we were. The debts, the poor harvest... We saw no other way out."
Valentina felt anger rising inside her. "But mother, Adeline is still a child! And Brentwood is... he's terrible!"
"I know," Mabel whispered, tears in her eyes. "Believe me, the idea kept me awake at night. But we thought it was the only way to save the family."
"Mother," Valentina whispered and hugged her mother spontaneously. "I'm so sorry you were in this situation."
When they separated again, Mabel furtively wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Thanks to you, we didn't have to do it. But the village is talking about it, of course. Some say we offended Brentwood."
"Let them talk," Valentina said firmly. "Adeline is too young for marriage, especially with a man like that."
They resumed their work, hanging shirts and pants on the line. From a distance, they heard Colm and Thomas laughing.
"Tell me about your life at university," Mabel asked after a while. "Have you... made friends?"
Valentina smiled. "Yes, good friends. Innogen and Crispin are wonderful. And the lectures are fascinating."
"And... the young men there?" her mother asked cautiously. "Are they... decent?"
"Oh yes, tell her about the decent young men," Vyxara giggled. "And about the professor who loves to put you over his knee."
Valentina felt the blush rise to her face. "Most of them are, yes. But I'm concentrating on my studies, mother. There's no time for young men."
Mabel nodded, but didn't seem entirely convinced. "Take care of yourself, will you? The city can be dangerous for a young girl."
"I know, mother," Valentina said gently. "But I can take care of myself. Really."
They finished hanging up the washing and went back into the house. The next mountain of work was already waiting in the kitchen: dishes had to be washed, vegetables cleaned and dough kneaded.
As they worked, Valentina talked about her studies, the complex theories of Essence Weaving and the fascinating experiments. She noticed how her mother kept looking at her from the side, as if she was trying to fathom the changes in her daughter.
As Valentina was about to heat water for the dishes, she paused. "May I...?" she asked hesitantly, pointing to the kettle.
Mabel nodded curiously. Valentina concentrated briefly, wove a simple Viur pattern and within a short time the water began to steam.
"By all the flames of Martyr!" her mother gasped in surprise. "Well, that's convenient!"
Valentina laughed. "Yes, it really is. Shall I light the fire in the stove too?"
Before Mabel could answer, Valentina had already created a small flame in the palm of her hand and lit the wood in the stove with it.
"Showing off is an art that you obviously still have to perfect," Vyxara mocked.
"That's... impressive," Mabel said slowly. "But can't it be dangerous? I mean, just creating fire like that... what if you accidentally start a fire in your sleep and your bed starts to burn?"
Valentina shook her head. "That can't happen, Mother, please don't worry. It requires precise coordination between intention, imagination and geometry. It's just as likely to happen accidentally in my sleep as it is to be struck by lightning."
They began to wash the dishes, Valentina scrubbing while her mother dried. They worked in silence for a while, only the clattering of the pots and the splashing of the water could be heard.
With a practiced pattern – she had developed it herself for the Greystone Competition after all – she made the dirty wash water clear again. Her mother winced slightly.
"It's become so... easy for you," she said. "This power. Doesn't it scare you?"
Valentina thought of the many times she had used Essence Weaving – to learn, to steal, to survive.
"No," she finally said. "What scares me is the idea of not having that power. Not being able to protect myself and the people I love."
Her mother dried her hands on her apron and pulled Valentina into a tight hug. "You've grown up so much," she whispered. "Sometimes I hardly recognize you. But in here" – she tapped Valentina's chest – "you're still my little girl."
"You know," Mabel began hesitantly, "when you were little and we realized that you could sense Essence, we were so scared. We thought maybe it was a curse."
Valentina paused in her movement and looked at her mother in surprise.
Mabel continued, "But now I really see what a blessing of the Martyr it is. You can do things we could only dream of. You have a chance at a better life."
"Mother..." whispered Valentina, touched by her mother's openness.
"I just want you to know how proud we all are of you," said Mabel, squeezing Valentina's hand.
At that moment, they heard the front door fly open and little feet pounding across the floor. "Val! Val!" Thomas' excited voice called out.
Valentina smiled at her mother. "Thank you. That means a lot to me." Then she turned to the door. "I'm in the kitchen, Thomas!"
The little boy came rushing in, followed by Adeline and Colm. "Can we play now?" he asked with wide eyes.
Valentina looked questioningly at her mother. Mabel nodded with a smile. "You go ahead. I'll finish up here."
"Thank you, Mother," said Valentina and picked Thomas up. Turning to her siblings, she asked: "Well, what do we want to play?"