Chapter 59

  Life was sweet once more.

  The past couple of months had felt akin to an exile. A surreal departure, a strange holiday that was so unusual that one instinctively disassociated with it upon their return to the comforts of home and normalcy. Like a bad hangover no one was looking forward to relive nor face the consequences of. It went the way of the sort of unpleasantness that folk were all too keen to forget and pretend that it had never happened.

  Such had been Gwen’s visit to the North, to the Duchy of Faymoren, and her subsequent return home to the capitol city of Isca.

  Now that she was home, there were nebulous moments of absentmindedness when Gwen felt it had all been a lucid dream. That her visit to Faymoren was fancy imagination and her engagement an unpleasant fever dream.

  Those moments, as comforting as they were, were quickly squashed. Gwen Croft wasn’t an addled invalid who couldn’t separate fact from fiction. Nor was she someone who would wish to be anyone but herself. Her pride wouldn’t let her falter.

  Yet the homecoming had provided Gwen with newfound insight. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And contradictions lend to understanding. Being away from Isca and in a place so different from home ushered Gwen to understand a few things better about herself.

  Foremost in her findings was that the Duchy of Faymoren and its people were ‘good-er’. Not in terms of power, wealth, architecture, mystery, arts, entertainment, excitement, allure, and all things just as crucial. Gwen felt that Isca had Faymoren trumped hands down in that regard.

  Rather, it was the observation that Faymoren and the people of the north were generally kinder and lived simpler. And a few months ago, Gwen would have thought them lesser for it and dismissed them as outdated and not worth her concern.

  The very recent visit to Faymoren and meeting the Duchess had dissuaded her of her flimsy opinion.

  While it went against her own preference, Gwen had come round to see the appeal of the northerners and their way of life. Acknowledging the virtues of Duchess Sabina and the merits of her rule, as well as appreciating northern culture and society.

  And yet, just as truthfully, Gwen knew that she didn’t belong to Sabina’s persuasion, nor her people. She respected and valued them more so than she had done so in the past, but she still preferred her own.

  Gwen would choose Isca and its people any day of the week over those of Faymoren. For all of Faymoren’s order and simplicity, she would choose Isca’s chaos and complexity.

  For Isca’s worth, for its charm and faults, perhaps more so for its faults even, Gwen belonged amongst the Capitol’s kind of people.

  Gwen had been surprised by the sense of belonging she had felt upon her return home. Initially she believed that she was just happy to leave Faymoren having swept the unpleasantness of her engagement under the rug for the foreseeable future. Though she soon realized that she had been homesick as well.

  Strangely enough, it were the well-wishers who descended upon her homecoming that evoked Gwen’s nostalgia. So different were they to those in Faymoren who had met her and offered their congratulations upon her engagement to their Duchess’ son.

  In the North, Gwen’s most defining aspect had somehow come to be her association with the Duchess. People cared more that she was marrying Sabina’s son and all that it entailed than her being Gwen bloody Croft! A bruise to her pride, the sobering realization had bothered Gwen immensely.

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  However, the people in the Capitol were different. In the fortnight since her return, Gwen had been inundated with visitors, guests and well-wishers. And they only had eyes for her.

  Gwen could see it clearly. The possessive glint in their eyes. The predatory shine to their toothful smiles. The cloying sweetness to their voice. The ambitious greed to their pandering.

  These people saw Gwen for her power, wealth, influence and beauty. As envious as they were covetous of her, all of them wanted a piece of her.

  Having lived her entire life amongst them, Gwen could read them like a book. Curiously, she found them endearing and realized that she had missed them. Wise to their antics and aware of their intentions, this knowledge and discernment, the familiarity of such people brought with it a strange comfort. For Gwen felt that she belonged amongst such creatures who were driven by greed, power and ambition. She understood them. They were her kind of people.

  Gwen compared them to the lazy metaphor of venous snakes. Immune to their own poison beyond using it for their advantage over others. Only Gwen believed herself to be more poisonous and immune than most.

  At a point after the whole engagement announcement in Faymoren, Gwen had sworn off fame. That had proved to be greatly premature.

  For as soon as Gwen had stepped foot in Isca, she had become the center of attention once more and she had fallen to love it as she always had. She had missed the adoration and envy that had followed her every step. Craved the fawning and the bootlicking. Didn’t matter whether they liked her or hated her, they all pandered to her.

  For once, Gwen had stood by her mother in enjoying the exaltations surrounding her engagement. She relished her popularity and preened at being the toast of the Capitol. Just this once, she didn’t let the details of her engagement bring her down and simply made merry on the occasion.

  Eventually, two weeks of continuous parties, invites and functions in the bride-to-be’s honor had run their course. And as the celebrations cooled, it brought with it another welcomed comeback.

  At the end of it all, as the rumor mill moved on to fresher and juicier things, Gwen finally felt her life returning to normal. And while things would never be as they once were, it was the closest Gwen had to having her perfect life back.

  It was a never-ending debate whether the Isca Academy in the Capitol was the best Academy in the nation. What wasn’t up for argument was that the Isca Academy was the most exclusive amongst such institutions. It was also the most expensive.

  The reasons for the exclusivity and expense behind Isca Academy were simply a matter of location and the accumulated wealth and power of the Capitol. Simply put, Isca Academy catered to a higher percentage of nobility and the wealthy than the other institutes spread throughout Ithica.

  The alma mater and active student list included members of royalty, families of ministers and aristocrats, relatives of the heads of administration, and those favored and sponsored by such. The elitism and status rivalry were so prevalent that a large number of the student body consisted of those who had the means of acquiring private tuition and did so, simultaneously paying astronomical fees on both fronts.

  That isn’t to say that the Isca Academy solely catered to the rich and powerful. Only that it did so to a larger extent. The campus was mired in politics and served as a playground for legacies, for future heirs to hone their teeth.

  Still, while politics didn’t let Isca Academy be an unbiased bastion of learning, it also didn’t lack for anything in regards to the pursuit of learning. The only thing that lowered its shine amongst scholars was that the Academy was underutilized and made somewhat redundant in catering to the resourceful elites.

  Expectedly, Gwen was an enrolled student at Isca Academy. Though unlike many others in her position, she didn’t denigrate the Academy as a solely social and political battlefield. Where people were quick to paint such assumptions, Gwen was more practical and accommodating. Rather than treating the Academy as a rendezvous of impressionable high society or the flaunting of status and prestige, Gwen viewed the Academy as another resource in her arsenal. One that she was compelled to make full use of towards her ascension. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Why would Gwen Croft choose? She would have it all. Why couldn’t she attend lectures in the Academy and also have private tutors? All knowledge would further her cause and she would be a fool to be picky. Why couldn’t she use the Academy to fraternize while also making use of the campus libraries and facilities? After all, she was paying for the privilege. Why would she decide between being a wizard and a socialite, between growing singularly powerful or amassing a following?

  Gwen would have it all. The world would bend to her demands.