“Volkov…”

  Thoughts filled the room. Headmistress Sonia was at the head of the table, sitting in the leather chair, smoking a pipe and thinking about that name. Around her were all the members of the academy, no exceptions.

  “The last heir has been dead for centuries,” Liza intervened to break the silence, “that’s what got us confused.”

  “I see…”

  “There could still be someone alive, but they could all have been killed, for all we know.”

  “What’s the point, then, of drawing the symbol?” Sonia didn’t want to see her face, because she was good at hiding her emotions, but everyone present could see a gloomy expression and a dull look.

  “Why steal a chalice.” Igor, the man hidden by the hood, intervened, “What do they do with a chalice?”

  “We don’t know yet.” Sonia replied, “It’s important to get to the bottom of it, or we risk losing ourselves.”

  A few more minutes of thinking. The tension was so intense that Aria stood aside and listened intently. She didn’t know what to say or think, and given her experience, she had decided to let the more experienced ones speak. What was she if not a duchess who barely knew how to use a sword?

  “Okay.” Sonia decided, “The information you brought us is important, especially the reception that will be held on Friday. Thank you, Aria, for telling Liza.”

  A smile from the girl.

  “We are working on that issue, while I will have to talk to some contacts I have outside the city about the Volkovs.” she turned to Igor, “You know who to ask.”

  “Was the priest questioned?” Liza asked.

  “Yes, I went to him yesterday and he told me that the chalice belonged to the first priest of Korotsk, who lived a long time ago. For them it is a sacred object because it puts them in communion with him.”

  “So he has no real powers?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “What do you mean real powers?” Aria asked, “Are there any… magical objects?”

  “Yes, they are called artifacts. Objects that are imbued with magic, but they are very rare. A chalice with that history has all the credentials of an artifact.”

  At that moment the butler entered with some wine glasses on a tray. He placed them in front of Sonia and said goodbye with a greeting.

  “Good,” said the headmistress, “we have finished. Resume your lessons, we will update in the next few days.”

  Aria left the room and so did Liza, Anton and the two boys. They headed to the garden to practice and that day she learned a cutting attack. She also managed, much to her surprise, to cut a bamboo cane into three equal parts, a feat that few could do on the first try.

  She was improving with the sword, it was clear, and her awareness was growing every day. Sure, she still had a lot to do, and Sevastian could easily beat her in a duel, but for a noblewoman who had lived in the palace all her life, she wasn’t doing too bad.

  Late that afternoon, when she returned home, Sergey greeted her and helped her take off her coat.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  “Madame Doroteya had some errands to run today,” he told her.

  “And my father? Is he at work?”

  “Yes, miss, he said he’d be home a little later today.”

  “Thank you, Sergey.”

  As she climbed the stairs, she noticed how incredibly quiet the house was. Between the cleaning, her way of speaking, and the glasses that occasionally fell, Madame Doroteya could be very noisy.

  Aria began to enjoy those moments of peace after a day of training and an alcoholic evening.

  “She didn’t tell me that Zimnik was alcoholic,” she thought, “I’ve had a headache all day.”

  She passed in front of her father’s office on her way to her room, and only later did she notice a detail. Going back a few steps, in fact, she saw how the door hadn’t been closed completely. So she looked around to see if Sergey was in the area and decided to open the door slowly.

  With her thumb she flicked the switch on the right and the chandelier came on. The office was small but not bare. The desk was near the window and all around there were many shelves full of projects and documents of various types. Even on the desk was a slightly unbalanced stack of paper that could have pissed off even the calmest of monks with a gust of wind. Aria moved slowly so as not to trip over some book that was resting on the floor. On the desk were many architectural plans and handwritten notes, but she didn’t care. The reason for her visit was the letter. She wanted to read it so much that she tried to open the third drawer without remembering that she had locked it. In her haste she almost didn’t remove the knob, but then she composed herself and began to think.

  “Locked! It should be somewhere, it must be!”

  She began to look for it in the hope that her father didn’t have it in his pocket. She checked under the papers, in the ashtray and in the many pockets of the coats hanging on the wall. Then she checked among the books on the shelf and even in the cupboard near the window. Inside the shoes and between the cracks in the walls.

  “Where… where!”

  To help herself see better, she turned on the lamp above the desk, noting that only one of the two bulbs was working.

  “Wait…” she turned off the lamp and pulled out the cover. Now the two bulbs were exposed and, looking more closely inside the one that didn’t light up, she noticed that the key had been hidden right there. She then unscrewed the bulb and the key came out by itself.

  “Yes!” she exclaimed, “And now let’s see what secrets you’re hiding from me, father.”

  Aria tried the key in the third drawer and it opened. Inside, she found various junk and cigarette butts, and then found the letter whose yellowed paper suggested its venerable age.

  “It has no address or letterhead… nothing.” she opened the letter and pulled out the paper.

  Then, she began to read it.

  “I expect you to give me what I asked for. Our deal is well defined, but its terms are not being respected here. You know well what awaits you if you don’t do your duty.”

  The letter contained these few sentences that made Aria's blood run cold.

  “What the- a deal?” she looked down at the signature.

  B.K.

  “My father made a deal with this B.K.” she put two fingers on her chin to massage it to think better, “Who is he? Another noble?”

  Her thoughts wandered.

  She noticed that the letter had been written in a precise and fine handwriting, a clear sign of a cultured person. The only ones who were cultured in Korotsk were the nobles.

  “Plus, I don’t see any smudges and the ink is quality.”

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a noise, the sound of footsteps going up the stairs. So, Aria put the letter back inside the drawer and locked it. However, she didn’t have time to put it back inside the light bulb before the door opened again.

  “Father.” she said, turning pale.

  “Aria, what are you doing here?” her father put his hat back on the coat rack, “Did I leave the door open?”

  “Exactly, father, I was cleaning the room since it’s always locked and Madame Doroteya doesn’t-“

  “No one asked you to do that. Plus, you mustn’t touch my work things.”

  “I beg your pardon, father.”

  Ungern went to the mirror after grabbing his file and bottle of aftershave. He began shaving and muttered something about today’s work. From that position, Aria couldn’t be seen, not by his peripheral vision or the reflection in the mirror. So, she put the key back into the light bulb and replaced the cover over it.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, father?”

  “No, and I’m surprised you’re still here. I have work to finish.”

  “I’m leaving right now.”

  “Hurry!”

  Ungern turned to see the girl who almost ran for the exit, stopped in front of the door and bowed.

  If she were discovered, the consequences would not be pleasant. But now she knew that his father was in cahoots with this B.K., or at least doing business with him, so the next step would be to investigate him or her.

  The girl skipped a beat at the thought of what had happened: her father had gotten involved in dangerous business and Aria began to fear for her life.