It had been several weeks since her life in the North officially started. True to Caelum's word, he didn't allow her to touch a piece of this place.
But Aveline had had enough. She could only spend so long in the North cooped up at home. She had plans to carry out and visions to make real. And so, a decision had to be made.
The decision came quietly, in the stillness of an early northern morning.
Aveline stood near the window of her chambers, watching pale sunlight creep over frost-touched rooftops. The North was awake, but cautious—its people moving with purpose rather than ease. It was a land shaped by hardship, and she felt it in every breath she took.
Behind her, Lina was folding fresh linens with practiced care. Tomas leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed, ever watchful, while Aaron sat at the small table, absentmindedly spinning a thread of mana between his fingers before snapping it away when he noticed Aveline turn.
"I'm going out," Aveline said calmly.
Lina paused mid-fold. "Out… where, my lady?"
"Everywhere," Aveline replied. "Shops. Markets. Workshops. I want to see how the North truly lives—not what the manor reports."
Tomas straightened immediately. "You shouldn't go alone."
"I wasn't planning to."
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "You mean with your grace or…?"
Aveline turned, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips. " No. Not with his Grace" She rolled her eyes, putting more emphasis on the word grace. "Not as the Duchess of Eryndale. No one here knows what she looks like yet. I intend to keep it that way. Besides, I doubt his Grace is going to go through the effort of coming with me."
Lina's fingers tightened around the cloth. "That's dangerous."
"Only if we let it be," Aveline said. "I want to listen without people bowing. To see prices without lies. To hear complaints without fear."
Tomas considered this for a moment before nodding. "Then we go prepared. No insignias. Plain clothes."
Aaron smirked. "So we're just… wandering commoners?"
"Exactly," Aveline replied. "For today, I don't want reverence. I want the truth."
Lina hesitated, then sighed softly. "Well, if there is anyone who can pretend to be commoners on the street, it's us."
Aveline met her gaze. "That's precisely why I need you with me."
Tomas adjusted the strap of his sword. "I'll take the rear. Aaron, stay near her."
Aaron grinned. "As you command, Captain."
Aveline looked at the three of them—her quiet, unlikely circle in a land that did not welcome her—and felt something settle in her chest.
"Then it's decided," she said. "Let's go see the North."
*******************
They didn't look like anyone important.
Aveline's cloak was plain, the kind that blended into a crowd without effort. Lina walked beside her, hands folded neatly, eyes drifting from shop to shop with open curiosity. Tomas kept a relaxed pace a few steps behind, while Aaron wandered closer to the stalls, clearly fascinated by everything he saw.
They decided to go to a more run down part of the North, where there are more commoners than nobles, more cost efficient than image conscious. The true worth of any place can be found in its most mediocre part.
"This place smells like iron and bread," Aaron said. "Not sure how I feel about that."
Tomas snorted. "That's the smell of staying alive." He said, inhaling strongly. Aaron rolled his eyes.
Aveline smiled faintly but said nothing as they passed a row of wooden stalls. A butcher worked with practiced efficiency, barely glancing up as customers handed over coins. No shouting, no haggling—just quiet transactions.
Lina leaned closer. "They have their prices written out."
"So no arguing," Aaron said. "Smart. Less yelling."
"Less pretending," Aveline added. "Everyone knows what things are worth here."
They stopped near a fabric shop and went in. The cloth was rough but durable, folded neatly despite its plainness. Aveline ran her fingers over the edge, testing the weave.
"This would last years," she murmured.
The merchant gave her a brief nod. "That's right, miss. You need good quality cloth to last through the seasons."
Aaron whispered, "I think that's the longest sentence anyone's spoken to us."
As they continued on, the street grew busier. People moved with purpose, boots crunching lightly against frost-kissed stone. A woman passed them carrying a basket nearly as wide as her shoulders. A boy ran past with firewood tucked under one arm, nearly crashing into Tomas.
"Careful," Tomas said automatically.
The boy glanced back, wide-eyed, then bolted without a word.
Lina watched him go. "Children work young here."
"It was the same back home," Aveline said softly.
"Well not after you made heaven's hearth. I swear you could barely see any children on the street after that. Although some did work." Aaron mentioned quietly.
They paused near a bakery, its window fogged from warmth within. The bread on display was dark and dense, stacked neatly rather than decoratively.
Aaron tilted his head. "That doesn't look sweet at all."
"I don't think it's meant to be," Tomas replied. "It fills you up."
Aveline bought a loaf anyway. When she broke it apart, steam curled into the air.
She took a bite, then nodded. "Practical."
Aaron grinned. "High praise."
As they walked, bits of conversation drifted past them—complaints about weather, grumbles about supplies, tired jokes about winter never ending. No one lowered their voice. No one raised it either.
"These people don't really complain loudly," Lina said. "There's plenty to complain about to be honest."
"They don't expect anyone to fix it for them," Aveline replied.
They passed a weaponsmith's stall, where sturdy blades lay lined up without ornament. A customer handed over a pouch of coins without hesitation.
"Defense sells well," Aaron observed.
"In the North," Tomas said, "it always does."
Aveline slowed her steps, taking it all in—the rhythm of the streets, the quiet resilience, the way the people carried themselves.
No reverence.
No warmth either.
But strength, worn thin and held onto anyway.
She exhaled slowly, a small smile touching her lips.
"This place," she said, almost to herself, "is honest."
And that, more than anything else, made her want to understand it.
At the next stall, they heard people talking about the new duchess. The four of them stilled, thinking they were caught.
"Honestly, I don't know why the duke doesn't just kick her out."
"I don't think he can just kick her out. I heard the king personally ordered their marriage."
"Still, I don't like that a cursed bitch is staying in the North. God knows what omens she would bring."
Aveline felt her heart clench. She understood the fear that the cursed label brought, but she had never heard anyone talk like that about her before.
"Well, I heard the Lord has her tied in the basement so she can't leave."
"Good on him. Keep the devil spawn chained."
Aveline was snapped out of her focus on listening to them by feeling magic and aura starting to swirl around them. Looking back, she could see Aaron and Tomas ready to pounce on the people talking. Besides them, Lina looked as if she would gladly kill them herself.
"Let's keep moving." Aveline said, turning around and walking. There was no point in listening in on this conversation.
As they were walking away, the man yelled as his drink moved from his hand onto himself, as if pulled by something. Aaron simply laughed as he walked off.
***********************
They didn't rush.
After the market, the streets widened slightly, opening into a small square where a few benches circled a bare stone fountain. The water wasn't running—frozen solid—but people still gathered there, resting, talking, eating whatever they'd managed to buy.
Aveline claimed an empty bench and handed the loaf of bread around.
"This is lunch now?" Aaron asked.
"This is sampling," Aveline replied. "Eat."
Tomas broke off a piece without complaint. Lina hesitated, then followed, brushing crumbs from her fingers with a small laugh. "It's better warm."
"Everything is better warm," Aaron said, then tilted his head.
Aveline hummed in agreement.
They watched the square for a while. A pair of older men argued quietly over a crate of tools. A woman mended a child's coat right there on the bench, needle flashing quickly between her fingers. No one paid them any mind.
"I don't think anyone's noticed us," Lina said.
"That's good," Tomas replied. "Means we're doing it right. Although, I'm pretty sure they've guessed we aren't from around here" he trailed off, nodding to the looks they got from people passing by. It was as if everyone knew everyone, so new faces stuck out.
Aveline's gaze drifted toward a small shop tucked into the corner of the square. Its sign hung crooked, the paint chipped, but the window display was neat—household items arranged with care.
"I want to check that one," she said, standing.
Inside, the shop was warm and cramped. Shelves were packed with practical goods: candles, metal hooks, thick thread, simple tools. The shopkeeper, an older woman with sharp eyes, looked them over once before nodding.
"Looking or buying?" she asked.
"Looking," Aveline answered.
"Then look."
Aaron smiled. "I like her already."
Aveline wandered slowly, noting what sold in bulk and what sat untouched. Nothing decorative. Everything useful. She picked up a spool of thread, rubbing it between her fingers.
"Strong," she said.
"Imported," the woman replied. "Costs more."
"But it lasts," Aveline said.
The shopkeeper gave her a longer look this time.
They bought a few small things before leaving. Outside, the sky had shifted—clouds gathering low, the light turning softer.
Lina adjusted her cloak. "It's going to snow later."
"Good timing then," Tomas said. "We should head back before the roads get slick."
Aveline nodded, but lingered a moment longer, watching people pass.
"I understand it a little better now," she said quietly.
Aaron glanced at her. "The North?"
"The people," she corrected. "They don't want saving. They want support."
Tomas smiled faintly. "You sound like someone with a plan."
Aveline returned the smile, small and thoughtful. "I usually am."
They turned back toward the manor then—four unremarkable figures fading into the crowd.
But Aveline carried the day with her.
Every price.
Every glance.
Every quiet truth.
***********
The market street became quieter as they moved, the sun already sinking low enough to paint the stone buildings in muted gold. Aveline walked a step ahead, her cloak plain and her hood lowered just enough to avoid attention.
Things got quiet. Too quiet.
Tomas noticed it first. His hand shifted instinctively toward the hilt at his side.
"Lady—" he began.
Three figures detached themselves from the alley ahead.
Then two more from behind.
Aaron clicked his tongue softly. "Well. That's subtle."
The men were rough-looking, clothes patched and eyes sharp in the way of people who knew how to spot value. Their gazes lingered on the basket Aveline carried—fine cloth, preserved goods, small luxuries that didn't belong in a common street.
"Hand it over," one of them said, stepping closer. "No trouble, and we'll let you walk."
Tomas moved immediately, positioning himself between them and Aveline. "You picked the wrong—"
Aveline lifted a hand.
"Wait."
Both men froze.
Tomas turned sharply. "My lady, allow me—"
"No," Aveline said calmly. Then, with a small exhale, she added, "I've had a rather long week."
She stepped forward, passing Tomas without a hint of fear.
Aaron blinked. "Oh. This again."
Aveline stared at them calmly. "You don't really look like common thugs."
The men just stared at her. "You carry knives and small blades, but you look like you can wield swords. Even your stance itself. Very knightly.", she said, imitating their stance.
"So what are you? Some sort of deserter who couldn't take the pain of being a knight of the North and instead wanted to live a life of theft and drinking?"
"You have quite a mouth of you, little lady. They say if you kill a cursed child, you get even more misfortune. But I say we try and find out whether that's true, eh boys."
"Try is right. But you're not going to be very successful."
The thug nearest her laughed. "You think—"
The air shifted.
Mana gathered so subtly it was almost imperceptible, drawn inward like a held breath. The cobblestones beneath Aveline's boots hummed faintly as sigils flickered—brief, precise, gone as soon as they formed.
She pointed two fingers forward.
"Cut."
The word was soft.
The force behind it was not.
A blade of compressed mana snapped outward, striking the man's arm with surgical precision. His knife clattered to the ground before he could scream.
Another rushed her.
Aveline stepped aside, mana bursting beneath her heel. The sudden propulsion sent her gliding out of reach as she twisted, palm striking the air.
"push."
The man flew backward as if struck by an invisible hammer, slamming into a wall and sliding down with a groan.
The remaining thugs hesitated.
That was their mistake.
Aveline moved.
Mana pulsed beneath her feet in controlled bursts, each step calculated, each movement deliberate. She didn't rush. She didn't flail.
She dismantled.
A sharp strike to the knee. A sudden pressure point locked by invisible force. A final wave that knocked the last man flat onto his back, gasping.
"Shock"
One final spell, and a surge of electric current stunned the thugs, but not harming her own people.
Silence followed.
Aveline exhaled slowly, the mana dispersing as easily as it had gathered. She adjusted her cloak and picked up the basket that had tipped over, checking its contents with mild annoyance.
"Nothing broken," she muttered. "Good."
Tomas stared.
Aaron whistled. "You know," he said, "every time I think I understand how strong you are, you prove me wrong."
Tomas lowered his weapon, gaze unreadable. "You didn't need us."
Aveline glanced back at him, expression composed once more.
"I know," she said. Then, quieter, "But thank you for being ready anyway."
She stepped past the unconscious men, already moving on.
"Come," she added. "I feel much better now. Besides, I think we'll need to take a closer look at things back at the manor."
"What do you mean, my lady?" Lina asked.
"Did you hear what they said? About killing a cursed child? Now, how did they know who I am?"
Their eyes widened as they realized what Aveline meant. "So they were either chasing us from far back, or someone sent them out to us."
"Someone.." Lina whispered. "You don't think…"
Aveline cut her off. "Whatever the truth behind this, I'll make sure they don't think about doing this again." Her eyes glowed as the mana sparked within her.
Behind her, Tomas and Aaron exchanged a look—equal parts concern, awe, and the growing realization that following Aveline Faylinn meant walking beside someone far more dangerous than the world believed.