The manor was not designed for quiet experiments.
Arietta discovered this mid-morning, when a thin plume of violet smoke slipped out from under the third-floor study door and drifted lazily into the corridor.
A passing knight stopped immediately.
"…Lady Arietta?"
"I misaligned a heating rune," she replied calmly from inside. "It will dissipate."
There was a small crackling sound.
Then a soft pop.
Silence.
The door opened a moment later.
Arietta stepped out with faint soot on her sleeve, entirely composed.
"It is stable now."
The knight glanced past her at the softly glowing metal device resting on the table.
"…Is it safe?"
"Yes."
A brief pause.
"…Now."
He decided that was sufficient and returned to his post.
She had begun at dawn.
The thought came to her the night before: she contributed very little to the daily rhythm of the manor.
She did not manage accounts.
She did not oversee the guard rotation.
She did not attend political meetings.
She studied. Observed. Occasionally prevented disasters.
That felt disproportionate.
So she decided to correct it.
By midday, three objects rested neatly on the long table.
A compact heating stone calibrated to maintain steady warmth with minimal mana draw.
A self-regulating ink well designed to prevent blotting regardless of angle.
And a reinforced leather wristband meant to reduce strain during extended weapon training.
The heating stone worked immediately.
The ink well required three recalibrations.
The wristband activated too early the first time and briefly reinforced the table instead of her arm.
She adjusted the feedback threshold without complaint.
Progress.
Klaine was informed of the "controlled magical anomalies" occurring in the west wing before luncheon.
He arrived without visible urgency.
The study door was open this time.
Arietta sat cross-legged on the floor, dismantling the ink well again with careful focus.
"You are modifying estate equipment," he observed.
"Yes."
"For what purpose."
She looked up at him.
"I am thankful."
He did not react at once.
"For what."
"For the people in this manor," she said simply. "They accepted me. They continue working as if I have always belonged here."
Her fingers adjusted the inner channel of the ink well.
"And I want to thank you too."
Silence.
"In what way," he asked.
"You gave me space," she answered. "You did not restrict me. You did not try to control what you could not measure."
She met his gaze steadily.
"That matters."
He stepped closer to the table, examining the items.
"This is repayment?"
"No."
"It looks like obligation."
"It is not."
She reassembled the ink well and turned it sideways. No spill.
Satisfied, she set it down.
"You do not have to do this to belong here," he said.
She shook her head lightly.
"I am not trying to earn a place."
A small pause.
"I just want to say thank you."
The words were simple. Direct.
He picked up the wristband.
"And this."
"For your knights."
"They did not request assistance."
"I know."
He slipped it on experimentally.
The reinforcement charm activated gently, responding to the tension in his forearm without overcorrecting.
Subtle.
Measured.
"…It compensates well."
"I reduced the feedback trigger."
"You have been observing training."
"Yes."
"That is concerning."
"I was studying."
"You are integrating deliberately," he said.
"Yes."
"And this is part of that."
"Yes."
He removed the wristband.
"You were never required to prove your usefulness."
"I know."
"Then do not act as though you are."
"I am not proving anything," she replied calmly.
"Then what are you doing."
"I am acknowledging kindness."
That stilled the room more than anything else she had said.
A knock came at the open doorway.
"Lady Arietta," a knight said respectfully, "the heating stone placed in the records room is functioning well. The clerks asked me to inform you they are grateful."
Her expression brightened at once.
"They did?"
"Yes."
"They work late," she said. "It gets cold."
The knight nodded and withdrew.
She glanced at Klaine with faint satisfaction.
"It functions properly."
"You nearly filled the corridor with smoke earlier."
"It dissipated."
"It alarmed three staff members."
"That was temporary."
He gave her a look.
She smiled.
He observed her for a quiet moment.
"And thanking me," he said carefully, "requires equipping my soldiers?"
"That is only part of it."
"What is the other part."
She adjusted the mana line on the wristband again.
"You carry more responsibility than necessary."
"That is not unusual."
"I know."
"And it is not yours to manage."
"I did not say it was."
She looked at him directly.
"I want to make it lighter where I can."
There was nothing dramatic in the statement.
Just intention.
Later that evening, Klaine returned to his study after reviewing regional reports.
He paused.
A heating stone rested discreetly near the side of his desk.
No note.
No announcement.
It emitted steady, even warmth.
He stood there for several moments, observing the consistency of its output.
Efficient.
Stable.
Unobtrusive.
Much like its creator when she chose to be.
Across the manor, Arietta remained awake, recalibrating the wristband once more to ensure the activation threshold matched real combat strain rather than idle movement.
Not because she needed to.
Not because she owed anything.
But because she wanted to.
And that, perhaps, was the most deliberate thing of all.