Chapter 126: A Dangerous Invitation
Success tasted undeniably sweet.
One wall of Aracila’s laboratory was lined with stacks of gift boxes, tokens from wizards eager to curry favor with her as her magical artifact business flourished, elevating her status and reputation within the Mage Tower. Many of these senders had previously backed other candidates for the next Tower Master but had since switched their allegiance. Aracila, however, remained unmoved by their change of heart, neither touched nor welcoming. This only spurred the more anxious among them to send increasingly lavish gifts as the days passed.
“Senior, are you sure it’s okay to just leave these piling up?” Sally asked, gesturing toward the mound of unopened boxes with a worried frown. For days, Aracila hadn’t so much as glanced at a single one.
Rudy chimed in, “Maybe sending a few thank-you gifts would help solidify their support for you.”
Aracila waved a dismissive hand. “Let them be. If they’re swayed by something this trivial, they’re fickle enough to flip again later. People like that won’t be much help in the long run.”
While having more supporters was always preferable, she had no use for those who’d change sides at the drop of a hat. The wizards would likely sway like reeds in the wind depending on whom Philip, the current Tower Master, chose as his successor. Those truly committed to her would wait patiently for her response, no matter how long it took.
“So, stop worrying about it and go grab some lunch,” Aracila said. “I’m eating here alone today.”
“What? Let’s eat together, Senior,” Sally protested.
“Nah, you mentioned wanting to try that new restaurant, didn’t you? Go with Rudy and take your time.”
Lately, Aracila found it exhausting to navigate the corridors, where colleagues seized every chance to exchange pleasantries or strike up conversations. But she couldn’t keep her juniors cooped up in the lab either, so she opted to dine alone. Truth be told, it was quietly convenient, and she had other tasks to attend to.
“Fine, but we’ll bring back dessert,” Sally said. “You have to eat that with us.”
“Deal. Enjoy your meal,” Aracila replied with a grin.
Sally and Rudy gave a quick bow and left the lab. Settling at her desk, Aracila leisurely unpacked the lunch Audrey had prepared: a bacon sandwich stuffed with lettuce and tomato, and a refreshing lemonade. The hearty sandwich filled her up without weighing her down, and the lemonade was the perfect palate cleanser. As she savored her meal in peace, a visitor arrived—Frederick.
“Hey, been doing alright?” he asked, stepping into the lab.
“Yeah, come on in,” Aracila replied, unfazed. She’d been informed of his visit in advance, which was why she’d sent Sally and Rudy out—knowing they found the Crown Prince’s presence uncomfortable.
After a brief handshake, they sat across from each other. Frederick mentioned he had good news to share in person.
“Thanks to you, this year’s Founding Festival was even more spectacular,” he said warmly. “You worked hard on those airships and lanterns. I’m grateful, Aracila.”
Pouring him a glass of lemonade, Aracila returned the sentiment. “Thank you, Frederick. Your support gave our business a chance to shine.”
He flashed a polished smile, the kind that seemed almost too perfect, before getting to the point. “Speaking of your business, I have something to discuss. Gloria was really impressed by your magical lanterns during the festival. She asked me to introduce you to her.”
“What? Princess Gloria?” Aracila’s eyes widened in surprise.
Gloria, the daughter of the Second Empress, was the Emperor’s eldest child and Frederick’s half-sister. Like Lucas, Aracila had only heard her name in passing and had no personal connection or prior meeting with her.
“She’s been very interested in investments lately,” Frederick continued. “Getting to know her could be beneficial.”
As he spoke, he produced a golden envelope embossed with the imperial crest. “This is an invitation to Gloria’s upcoming birthday party. She asked me to pass it along. She’s hoping to give one of your magical lanterns as her birthday gift—would you be up for making one?”
“Of course,” Aracila said, nodding, though her expression was still a bit dazed.
Frederick’s smile widened as he handed her the invitation. Her pale hand accepted it quietly. “I’ll take that as a yes for attending the party,” he said. “And if it’s alright, I could stop by your place that day to—”
“Wait, hold on,” Aracila interrupted.
“Hm?”
“I’ll make the lantern for Her Highness’s birthday, but I’d like to discuss attending the party with Damian first.”
Though Aracila crafted the magical artifacts, the business was a joint venture with Damian. He handled the practical side of things far better than she did, and meeting a princess alone felt daunting without his input.
“You’re… planning to attend the party with Sir Damian?” Frederick asked, his face subtly stiffening.
Aracila responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course. He’s my husband and my business partner.”
“I see…” Frederick said, his voice trailing off. “Gloria only mentioned wanting to meet you, though.”
“Then please explain to Her Highness that I handle development, while Damian manages the business side. If she’s interested, it’d be best to meet us both.”
Her words, spoken without malice, cut deeper than she realized. Frederick covered his mouth, letting out a hollow chuckle. He fell into a thoughtful silence before finally speaking again. “Alright. Let me know once you decide about the party.”
“I will, as soon as I can,” Aracila promised.
Noticing the time—her juniors would be back soon—she ushered Frederick out without hesitation. His faint expressions of reluctance couldn’t sway her; this was a shared laboratory, not a personal space. With a brisk farewell, she closed the door behind him.
***
Meanwhile, Travis opened the door to his own laboratory with a heavy sigh. Dark shadows clung to the hollows beneath his eyes, evidence of a sleepless night. His juniors, already at work, hesitated before timidly handing him a thick stack of letters.
“These are from Fernando,” one of them said.
“…” Travis’s weary expression darkened further.
He took the letters silently and sank into his chair, unfolding the pages. The dense black ink spelled out exactly what he’d expected: threats, demands, pleas, and intimidation. Fernando was relentlessly pressuring him to surpass Aracila, alarmed by the recent resurgence of her influence, which had waned briefly after her marriage. Frustrated by his student’s inability to deliver results, Fernando was cracking the whip harder than ever.
But the one truly plagued by anxiety was Travis himself. He’d been avoiding his mentor, unable to bear the weight of his demands, only for Fernando to resort to these lengthy letters. Damn it, I’m going insane. What am I supposed to do when nothing works?
While Aracila soared, Travis hadn’t been idle. But his haste in pushing his research had backfired, yielding only failures. Each misstep drove him further into a corner.
She’s different from me. We’re not the same… Unlike Aracila, born and raised as the brilliant daughter of a prestigious family, Travis was the illegitimate son of a minor noble house. For him, magic was a dream, a hope, a lifeline—the only way to escape a family that barely treated him as human. It was the one talent he could claim as his own. Even if he failed to become the next Tower Master, Aracila could fall back on her status as a refined noblewoman. Travis had no such safety net. He had nowhere else to go.
If only I’d been born a woman like her and married well… The thought clawed at him as he raked his hands through his hair, teetering on the edge of despair. He had to do something, but what?
Unable to focus on his research, he wandered to the lounge for some air. As he stood behind a partition, listlessly brewing tea, voices drifted in as a group of wizards entered.
“Isn’t it basically settled that Aracila’s the next Tower Master?” one said.
Travis’s ears pricked up instinctively.
“Pretty much,” another replied, as they sprawled onto the sofas, unaware of Travis behind the partition. “Travis hasn’t made any headway.”
“He’s such a pity. Aracila’s marriage was his golden chance, and he blew it.”
“She’s always been a bit better, hasn’t she? Travis feels like a perpetual second fiddle.”
“Well, guess he found his place then.”
A wave of mocking laughter erupted, and Travis’s grip on his teacup tightened, his knuckles whitening. Then, one wizard lowered their voice.
“But it’s really over now. I heard from a junior in our lab—Aracila’s been invited to Princess Gloria’s birthday party.”
“What? Seriously?”
“Yeah, those magic lanterns caught the princess’s eye. And apparently, she’s pretty close with the Crown Prince, too. If the imperial family backs her for Tower Master, it’s game over, right?”
Travis felt the world tilt beneath him. If the imperial family supported Aracila, it was indeed over. When the group left, he staggered out of the lounge, his face harder than ever before.
This isn’t fair.
The thought looped endlessly in his mind. As a half-noble barred from high society, he’d never had a chance to forge connections with the imperial family—unlike Aracila, whose privileged background opened doors he could only dream of. I can’t let it end like this. A competition should be fair, based on skill alone.
Of course, Philip, the current Tower Master, wasn’t one to bend to the imperial family’s whims. But Travis, consumed by a sense of injustice, ground his teeth. He vowed to level the playing field with his own hands.
***
Damian reacted positively to the idea of attending Princess Gloria’s birthday party. “I heard from Prince Lucas that most of the imperial family will be there,” he said. “It could be a good opportunity.”
He believed cultivating ties with the imperial family was wise, both as a businessman and as someone plotting revenge. It might also serve to keep Frederick in check. His investigation into Frederick’s possible involvement in a recent assassination attempt had stalled—Ken was looking into how the dark magic bomb had been acquired, but connecting it to Frederick was proving difficult. Attending the party with Aracila, openly displaying their bond as husband and wife, might provoke Frederick into revealing something.
Stirring him up could draw out useful information, Damian thought. Truthfully, his irritation at Frederick’s constant hovering around Aracila under the guise of friendship played a larger role.
“I have something to share as well,” Damian said, once Aracila finished. He pulled a rolled-up sheet of paper from his coat and handed it to her. “Today, I received the sketches of the men who threatened Taylor from the priest.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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