Two years had passed since the incident with Sir Gareth, and the changes at Silvaria were evident in more than just the height of the rose bushes in Mother's gardens. Celia and I had celebrated our eighth birthday three months ago, marking the transition from childhood education to what Viscountess Rivelle called "serious preparation for adult responsibilities."
The lesson room had been transformed since our last visit. Viscountess Rivelle had replaced the simple table with a massive oak surface that dominated the space, its polished surface covered by the most detailed map of the Killion Empire I'd ever seen. Colored pins marked major cities, trade routes snaked across the landscape in golden thread, and the territorial boundaries were outlined in precise detail that spoke of serious cartographic work.
"Sit," Viscountess Rivelle commanded, her voice carrying the same crisp authority that made even Mother's knights straighten unconsciously.
Celia and I took our places at the table, and I found myself genuinely curious about what we were about to learn. The woman before us wasn't just an etiquette instructor—her bearing suggested someone who'd moved in the highest circles of imperial politics.
"Today, we begin your real education," she announced, her sharp gaze moving between us. "Until now, you've learned the basics—how to walk, how to speak, how to hold a sword. Child's play. From this moment forward, you will learn what it means to be nobility in the Killion Empire."
She moved to stand behind the map, her perfectly manicured finger tracing across the vast expanse of the empire. "The Killion Empire spans three thousand miles from east to west, encompassing territories that were once seventeen separate kingdoms. It is held together not by geography, but by power. And that power rests in the hands of five families."
"Five?" Celia asked, scrunching up her face. "That seems like a lot to remember."
"The Imperial Family, and the four Great Houses," Viscountess Rivelle confirmed. "You will learn each of their names, their histories, their strengths, and their weaknesses. Because make no mistake—these are the people who will shape your futures, whether as allies or enemies."
Her finger moved to the center of the map, where the imperial capital was marked with an elaborate golden crown. "The Evereux Imperial Family rules from Thalendris, the heart of the empire. They possess the Throne of Unity, forged from the crowns of the seventeen conquered kingdoms. But imperial power has... waned in recent years."
The way she said it suggested there was more to that story, but she moved on before either of us could ask questions.
"The true strength of the empire lies in its four pillars," she continued, her finger moving to mark different regions. "The Archdukedom of Ardenfall in the west, the Grand Duchy of Silvaria in the east, the Duchy of Thornfield in the north, and the Duchy of Ravencrest in the south."
I leaned forward, studying the territories she indicated. Each was massive, representing roughly a quarter of the empire's total landmass.
"Tell us about them!" I said, bouncing slightly in my chair.
Viscountess Rivelle's lips curved in what might have been approval. "Excellent. Always seek to understand the board before you begin to play."
She placed her hand on the western region first. "The Archdukedom of Ardenfall. The Black Lion commands the empire's western borders, standing guard against the Antalus Empire. They are our sword arm—military might incarnate. The current Archduke is said to be one of the finest warriors in the Empire, rivaled by..." She glanced meaningfully at us.
"Mother!" Celia said, practically glowing with pride.
"Indeed. The Grand Duchess Eleanor is considered his equal in combat, though their styles differ significantly. Where Ardenfall is the crushing hammer, Silvaria is the precise blade."
Her hand moved to our territory in the east. "The Grand Duchy of Silvaria. Your family has held these lands for over four centuries, longer than any other Great House save the Imperial Family itself. You guard the eastern reaches, maintain the empire's most prestigious knightly orders."
There was weight behind those words that made me pay closer attention.
"The east has always been considered the empire's shield," she continued. "Where the west faces conquest and expansion, the east represents stability and tradition. The Silver Wolf has never bent the knee to any foreign power."
Moving to the northern territories, her expression shifted slightly. "The Duchy of Thornfield presents a... different case entirely. Duke Marcus Thornfield was elevated from Marquis just ten years ago, a reward for exceptional service during the Succession Wars. They are what we call nouveau riche—new money, new power, and very eager to prove they belong among the Great Houses."
"What kind of service?" I asked, sensing there was more to the story.
"Duke Thornfield commanded the imperial forces that put down the rebellion in the former Kingdom of Aldwin. His methods were... effective, if brutal. The Emperor rewarded him with ducal rank and the northern territories as his domain." Her tone suggested she had opinions about those methods that she wasn't sharing.
"The Thornfields control the empire's mining operations—iron, silver, precious stones. Their lands are rich in resources but poor in history. They've spent the last decade buying influence, forging alliances, and trying to purchase the respect that the other Great Houses earned through centuries of service."
Finally, her attention turned to the southern region. "The Duchy of Ravencrest in the south. Perhaps the most interesting of our four pillars, and certainly the most... complex."
She traced the southern borders with obvious respect. "The Ravencrests are old blood—older than Silvaria, nearly as old as the Imperial Family itself. They are scholars, mages, and keepers of ancient knowledge. Their libraries are said to contain texts that predate the empire by centuries."
"Ooh, what makes them complex?" Celia asked, leaning forward with obvious interest.
"Duke Aldrich Ravencrest is a scholar first, a politician second, and a warrior... well, he leaves that to others. But don't mistake scholarship for weakness. Ravencrest commands the empire's magical research, trains the court mages, and maintains the wards that protect our major cities. In a world where knowledge is power, they possess more of both than anyone except perhaps the Imperial Family itself."
Viscountess Rivelle paused, her expression growing more thoughtful. "And then there is the matter of his daughter, Lady Seraphina. She is nine years old—a year older than both of you—but already showing signs of extraordinary... gifts."
"What kind of gifts?" I asked, my interest piqued.
"The kind that have led the Church of the Divine Light to declare her the prophesied Saint of the Empire," Viscountess Rivelle said quietly. "It is said that she can channel divine power—not mana, but something far older and more sacred. Healing that defies magical explanation, visions that foretell future events, and an aura of grace that even hardened soldiers find humbling."
'Divine power,' I thought, the concept hitting me like a physical blow. In my previous life, even after the Towers had introduced mana and supernatural phenomena to Earth, I'd never encountered anything that could be called truly divine. Alien technology, yes. Otherworldly creatures, certainly. But nothing that spoke of gods or saints or sacred power.
This world possessed forces that were completely foreign to my experience. Mana I understood—it was energy that could be manipulated, channeled, and mastered through technique and will. But divine power suggested something else entirely. Something that came not from within, but from... above?
The implications were staggering. If true divine power existed here, it meant this world operated under fundamentally different rules than my previous one. Rules I didn't understand, forces I couldn't predict or plan for.
'How much don't I know about this place?' The thought was both humbling and concerning. I'd been approaching this world through the lens of my previous experience, assuming that superior technique and strategic thinking would be enough. But if there were saints and prophets and divine intervention...
"The Church recognizes her as the future Saint," Viscountess Rivelle continued, "but Duke Ravencrest treats her as his daughter first, holy vessel second. This creates... interesting dynamics with the religious authorities."
Viscountess Rivelle stepped back from the map, her gaze moving between us. "These four houses, plus the Imperial Family, control every aspect of the empire. Trade routes, military commands, magical research, resource extraction, diplomatic relations—everything flows through one of these five powers."
"Where do we fit in all of this?" I asked, though I suspected I already knew the answer.
"That, young master, is a very good question." Her smile was sharp as a blade. "Traditionally, Silvaria has been the most loyal to the Imperial Family. Your ancestors swore oaths of fealty that have never been broken. But loyalty is a two-way street, and lately..."
She trailed off, but the implication was clear. The Imperial Family's weakening position was affecting their relationship with the Great Houses.
"Ardenfall commands respect through military might," she continued. "Thornfield buys influence with wealth. Ravencrest maintains power through knowledge and magical expertise. But Silvaria..." She looked directly at me. "Silvaria has always derived its authority from the quality of its people. Your family doesn't just rule—you lead by example."
The weight of expectation in those words was enormous. Not just political power, but the responsibility to be worthy of that power.
"Which brings us to the current situation," Viscountess Rivelle said, her tone growing more serious. "The emperor has not named an heir. Princess Anastasia and Princess Aurora are both capable, but neither has been formally designated as crown princess. This creates... uncertainty."
"Ooh, what kind of scary uncertainty?" Celia asked, though she looked like she might not really want to know the answer.
"The kind that makes powerful people nervous," Viscountess Rivelle replied. "When the imperial succession is unclear, the Great Houses begin to position themselves. Alliances shift, favors are called in, and everyone starts planning for multiple possible futures."
She moved around the table to stand directly across from us. "Your mother has kept Silvaria officially neutral in these matters, but neutrality becomes more difficult to maintain as time passes. Eventually, our family will need to choose which future we want to support."
The implications of what she was saying settled over me like a heavy cloak. This wasn't just theoretical education—we were being prepared for real political decisions that could affect the entire empire.
"For now," Viscountess Rivelle continued, "your task is to understand the forces at play. Learn the names, the histories, the relationships. Understand what each house wants, what they fear, and what they're willing to do to get it."
She gestured to a stack of books that had been placed on a side table. "Your homework. The History of the Great Houses, by Master Aldwin. Lineages and Alliances of the Imperial Court, by Scholar Emira. And Trade and Territory: The Economic Foundation of the Empire."
Celia looked at the thick volumes with obvious dismay. "All of them?"
"Knowledge is the only true power," Viscountess Rivelle replied without sympathy. "Your brother will be making decisions that affect millions of lives. Your role will be to support those decisions with wisdom and understanding. Neither of you can afford ignorance."
The lesson continued for another hour, covering the basics of imperial law, the hierarchy of noble titles, and the complex web of marriages and alliances that bound the Great Houses together. By the end, my head was spinning with names, dates, and political connections.
My own development had progressed considerably over the past two years. The incident with Sir Gareth had forced me to advance to Green Stage earlier than I'd planned, but the additional time had allowed me to consolidate that foundation properly. My sword techniques had grown more refined, though I was careful to demonstrate only what would be considered remarkable rather than impossible for someone my age.
Celia, meanwhile, had blossomed into her own strengths. Her mana core had advanced to Orange Stage through diligent practice, and her natural charisma made her popular with both the household staff and the various tutors who came to instruct us. More importantly, she'd developed an intuitive understanding of people and politics that complemented my more analytical approach.
"There's something else we need to discuss," Viscountess Rivelle said as we prepared to leave, her tone growing more serious. "Your advancement to Green Stage at your age is remarkable," she said quietly to me. "But remarkable abilities draw remarkable attention. Word of your... demonstration with Sir Gareth has spread further than your mother might prefer."
A chill ran down my spine. "What kind of attention?"
"The kind that makes people ask questions about what other capabilities you might be hiding," she replied. "Be careful, young master. The Great Houses are always looking for advantages over their rivals. A prodigy heir could be seen as either an opportunity or a threat."
The warning was clear enough. My rapid advancement, while impressive, also made me a target for those who might want to either recruit or eliminate potential threats to their own ambitions.
"I understand," I said quietly.
"Good. Now, tomorrow we'll begin a more detailed study of current political tensions. The situation with the Antalus Empire has been developing for months, and it's starting to affect trade relationships throughout the western territories."
Celia and I exchanged glances. The Antalus Empire was the massive kingdom that bordered the western edge of our empire, and any tensions there would primarily affect...
"Ardenfall," I said.
"Precisely. The Archduke has been managing increasingly complex diplomatic and military challenges. How he handles them will affect the balance of power throughout the empire."
As we left the lesson room, I found myself thinking about the broader implications of what we'd learned. The empire was more complex and unstable than I'd realized, with multiple competing interests and unclear succession creating an environment ripe for conflict.
'Two years of relative peace,' I thought as we walked through the estate's corridors. 'But that peace is starting to crack.'
The political education we were receiving wasn't just theoretical preparation for distant adult responsibilities—it was immediate practical knowledge for navigating a world that was growing more dangerous by the day.
"Lance," Celia said quietly as we reached our rooms, grabbing my sleeve, "do you think there's gonna be a war?"
I thought about it for a moment, trying to be honest but not scary. "Not right now," I said finally. "But... maybe someday. That's why we have to learn all this stuff—so we can help Mother make good choices when she needs to."
Celia nodded, looking more serious than usual. "I don't want there to be fighting."
"Me neither. But if there is, we'll be ready to help."
'Knowledge is power,' I reflected, remembering Viscountess Rivelle's words. And in the years ahead, we were going to need all the power we could gather.