Three days had passed since the incident with Sir Gareth, and life at the estate had settled into a new rhythm. The immediate chaos was over, but the ripples of what had happened continued to spread in ways I was only beginning to understand.
I sat in the garden during the quiet hours of early morning, a cup of tea growing cold in my hands as I focused inward on the changes I could feel building within my mana core. The intense confrontation with Gareth had pushed me harder than any training session, and my body was finally ready to break through to the next stage.
The familiar pressure built steadily, like water rising behind a dam. I guided the flow carefully, letting years of experience from my previous life inform my technique as the barrier between Orange and Yellow Stage began to crack.
When it finally gave way, the sensation was like stepping from a dim room into bright sunlight. My mana channels expanded, my core deepened, and suddenly the world felt more vivid, more alive. The Yellow Stage settled into place with a satisfying sense of completion.
I opened my eyes and let out a slow breath, satisfaction mixing with a more complex emotion. This breakthrough felt different from the earlier ones—not just because of the circumstances that had triggered it, but because of what it represented.
'The easy part is over,' I thought, setting down my teacup. 'From Red to Yellow, advancement is mostly about mana capacity and basic technique. But from here...'
My rapid early progress had been possible because I was essentially relearning skills I'd already mastered in my previous life. But this world's power system had its own rules, its own requirements that even my experience couldn't simply bypass.
'Still,' I mused, 'Yellow Stage at six years old should be impressive enough to satisfy most expectations.'
"Lance!" Celia's voice called from across the garden, bright and cheerful in a way that made me smile. She came running toward me, silver hair streaming behind her, practically glowing with excitement.
"What has you so energetic this morning?" I asked as she skidded to a stop beside my chair.
"I did it!" she announced, bouncing on her toes. "I finally broke through to Orange Stage! Viscountess Rivelle says it's remarkable progress for someone my age."
I studied her more carefully, sensing the increased mana capacity she now possessed. The stress and emotional intensity of recent events had apparently pushed her development as well, though her breakthrough was more natural, more suited to her actual age and experience.
"Congratulations," I said warmly, standing to ruffle her hair despite her immediate protests. "That's excellent progress."
"Don't mess up my hair!" she complained, trying to smooth down the strands I'd disturbed. "I have lessons today, and Viscountess Rivelle gets that look when our appearance isn't perfect."
Speaking of Viscountess Rivelle, Mother had indeed expanded our education beyond simple etiquette and combat training. The woman who had been teaching Celia proper deportment now handled our instruction in politics, geography, and the intricate web of relationships that governed noble society.
It was, I suspected, Mother's way of ensuring we understood the larger world we were stepping into. Recent events had made it clear that our peaceful childhood was drawing to a close.
"Actually," Celia continued, her excitement dimming slightly, "Mother wants to see both of us in her study after breakfast. She said there were some things we needed to discuss."
I nodded, not particularly surprised. The aftermath of the Gareth incident was still unfolding, and Mother would want to address the implications with us directly.
We made our way back to the main house, where the usual morning bustle was underway. Servants moved efficiently through the corridors, their conversations quieter than usual but carrying an undercurrent of satisfaction that I found interesting.
"Young Master, Young Lady," one of the senior maids called as we passed. "The Grand Duchess is waiting for you in her private study."
We found Mother at her desk, several letters spread before her. She looked up as we entered, and I saw something like pride flash across her features as her gaze moved between Celia and me.
"Both of you have advanced a stage," she observed without preamble. "Yellow for you, Lance, and Orange for Celia. Remarkable progress, especially considering the circumstances."
"Thank you, Mother," we said in unison.
She gestured for us to take the chairs across from her desk. "The incident with Sir Gareth has had... consequences beyond his immediate dismissal. I thought you should understand what those consequences are."
Mother lifted one of the letters from her desk. "Sir Gareth's teaching credentials have been revoked empire-wide. His pension from his service as Imperial Knight has been stripped. He has been barred from any position involving the education or training of noble children."
I raised an eyebrow at the thoroughness of the response. "That seems quite comprehensive."
"It was necessary," Mother replied calmly. "Men like him cannot be allowed to sell information about our family's capabilities to interested parties. His complete disgrace ensures that any claims he might make about your abilities will be dismissed as the ravings of a bitter ex-knight."
The strategic thinking behind the move was impressive, if ruthless. Mother had effectively eliminated any potential security risk while sending a clear message about what happened to those who threatened her children.
"More importantly," she continued, "your... demonstration has generated considerable interest throughout the empire. The story has spread and grown in the telling, as such stories do."
"What kind of story?" Celia asked curiously.
Mother's lips curved in what might have been amusement. "By the time it reached the imperial capital, you had apparently defeated a former Royal Guard Captain in single combat using techniques that impressed even veteran observers. The details have become quite colorful."
I grimaced slightly. "How colorful?"
"The current version claims you accomplished this feat with nothing more than a broken sword and the natural authority of one born to rule," Mother said dryly. "Soon, the entire Empire knew of the prodigy of Silvaria who had bested a former Imperial Knight through sheer force of will and superior breeding."
The embellishment was both helpful and problematic. It would certainly enhance my reputation, but it also meant increased scrutiny and expectations going forward.
"Which brings us to the expansion of your education," Mother continued, moving to the next topic with characteristic efficiency. "Viscountess Rivelle will now be handling instruction in imperial politics, noble genealogy, and diplomatic protocol for both of you. You'll also be receiving additional tutoring in history, economics, and military strategy."
Celia looked slightly overwhelmed by the list. "All of that?"
"Knowledge is power," Mother replied. "And power properly applied protects what matters most. The world beyond our estate is complex and dangerous. You'll need to understand it thoroughly if you hope to navigate it successfully."
She was right, of course. The peaceful isolation we'd enjoyed was ending, whether we were ready or not. The Gareth incident had been a catalyst, but the underlying pressures had been building for some time.
"Your first expanded lesson will be this afternoon," Mother informed us. "Viscountess Rivelle wants to begin with an overview of the empire's current political structure and our family's place within it."
As if summoned by the mention of her name, Viscountess Rivelle appeared in the doorway, her posture impeccable and her expression carrying the familiar note of barely contained authority that made even seasoned nobles straighten unconsciously.
"Your Grace," she said with a precise curtsy. "Young Master, Young Lady. Are we ready to begin today's instruction?"
"We are," Mother replied. "I believe you planned to start with imperial hierarchy?"
"Indeed," Viscountess Rivelle confirmed, her gaze moving between Celia and me with the calculating look of someone assessing the raw material she had to work with. "It's time they understood exactly where the Grand Duchy of Silvaria stands in relation to the other powers of the empire."
As we followed her to the lesson room, I found myself both curious and apprehensive about what we were about to learn. The peaceful simplicity of our childhood education was clearly ending, replaced by something far more complex and politically charged.
'Just as well,' I thought as we took our seats at the polished table where a detailed map of the empire had been spread out. 'If we're going to be players in this game, we might as well understand the rules.'
The game, it seemed, was about to become far more complicated than simple sword training and etiquette lessons. But then again, I'd played more dangerous games before, in a world where the stakes had been nothing less than human survival.
This time, at least, I wouldn't be playing alone.