"Wake up, little Weaver. Today is your big day."

Valentina slowly opened her eyes. Vyxara's voice sounded unusually gentle, almost tender.

"Twenty years," the demon mused with amusement. "Such a short period of time for me, and yet – how much you've changed in that one year."

Valentina stretched out under the silken sheets. A year ago, she had still slept with two sisters in a small room on her parents' farm. Today she woke up in a four-poster bed that was larger than her parents' entire bedroom in Palewood.

"Yes, you used to be milking at this time of day," Vyxara reminded her teasingly. "Now you're lying in silk, being served."

"Oh, shut up, Vyxara," Valentina muttered, but a smile crept onto her lips. The demon was right – her life had changed fundamentally.

A gentle knock on the door announced Jenny. The girl hobbled in with a heavily laden tray on which a silver teapot was steaming. Her eyes shone with excitement.

"Happy birthday, my lady!" She put the tray down carefully. "I got your favorite tea – and Mother baked those little honey cakes you like so much."

"That's very sweet of you." Valentina sat up and allowed Jenny to put a silk robe around her shoulders. "But you didn't have to go to such trouble."

"Of course we had to!" Jenny skillfully poured tea. "It's your birthday, after all." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "The first presents have already arrived, by the way. Morris has them collected in the anteroom."

And indeed, the first parcels were already piling up there. During the morning, the flow did not ebb – an endless procession of servants and messengers brought gifts from nobles and dignitaries. Each was carefully selected to demonstrate status and connections.

Lady Wicklethorne sent an elaborately embroidered fan – the embroidery, however, depicted scenes from the countryside, a farm, meadows, and some cows as a subtle reminder of Valentina's origins. Baron Sebastian surprised her with a set of exquisite Essence tools, while Lady Celestine sent a bottle of her favorite perfume.

"How thoughtful they all are all of a sudden," Vyxara commented mockingly as Jenny unwrapped another package. "Even people who looked at you like you were a disgusting boil at first are suddenly outbidding you with expensive gifts."

The Duchess's gift was particularly cleverly chosen – a set of elegant but not overly expensive gloves in the Greystone colors. A clear message: she accepted Valentina's position without attaching too much importance to it.

Around midday, Master Lucian appeared in person, a leather-bound book in his hands. "A modest gift," he said with his typical subtle smile. "But I thought it might be useful."

Valentina opened it carefully and her breath caught. It was an ancient text on unusual Essence theories – exactly the kind of knowledge she appreciated – and so did Vyxara.

"That's... very generous," she said quietly.

"Think of it as an investment in your future." Master Lucian inclined his head slightly. "The duke appreciates bright minds in his court, and I appreciate having someone at court to discuss Essence Weaving at an appropriate level."

Oh, and the duke – his gift was brought by the chamberlain himself. A small casket made of dark wood, containing a golden ring with a beautiful grey gemstone. The message was unmistakable.

"How romantic," purred Vyxara. "If he can't put a ring on your finger, he at least wants to give you one as a gift."

Jenny and her mother presented their gift in the late afternoon – a small, hand-carved wooden box with expertly crafted inlays and several compartments.

"It's not much," Jenny's mother explained sheepishly. "But Jenny noticed that you have to sort your herbs every morning. My husband made the box – he learned carpentry when he was young. Now he works in the stables. But he hasn't forgotten how to carve."

Valentina opened the box and stroked the carefully crafted compartments. It was perfect for Mara's contraceptive herbs, which she drank a brew of every morning – even though Jenny and her mother probably didn't know what she really needed them for. The love and attention that went into the gift was clear to see. Between all the pomp and calculation, this was perhaps the most honest gift of the day.

"That's really well thought out," Vyxara said approvingly. "They're watching you closely, little Weaver. Not out of calculation like the others, but out of genuine affection. Such loyalty is rare – and valuable."

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"My lady?" Jenny interrupted her thoughts. "We should start getting you ready for the reception. The duke has already had another new dress sent to you."

Valentina nodded and stood up. Smiling, she watched the duke's ring sparkle on her hand as she walked into the dressing room.

~

"Hold still, My Lady," Jenny murmured intently as she tightened the laces at the back. "Master Silkhand has outdone himself as usual, but the dress has to fit perfectly."

"Oh yes, that will make an impression," Vyxara purred appreciatively. "A wonderful dress."

Valentina looked at her reflection in the mirror while Jenny arranged her hair in a sophisticated braided hairstyle.

"A little Distilled Essence would be just the thing right now," she thought aloud.

"Excellent idea," agreed Vyxara. "Let your skin glow. Show them all that you are not only beautiful, but also powerful."

Valentina carefully dropped a drop of the precious liquid into her wash water. As she moistened her face with it and wove gentle effects, her skin began to shimmer pale, emphasizing her features.

The large reception hall was already filled with guests when Valentina entered. The nobles bowed politely, but their looks were calculating. Lady Wicklethorne rushed in with her daughters, her congratulations sweet as poison. Baron Sebastian gallantly and familiarly kissed her hand, while his young wife stood by and tried to hide her obvious displeasure. Valentina blushed slightly at the thought of the state in which the baron had last seen her.

Even Master Wilford made a surprise visit in his usual stained robes – a strange contrast to the sumptuous robes of the nobles, but he had probably come over directly from the hospital without even bothering to change.

"Well," he grumbled, "as you don't have to look after any patients today, you can devote yourself entirely to this courtly fuss. But tomorrow I expect you on time for your ward rounds."

Valentina bowed with a smile. "Of course, Master Wilford. I wouldn't dare disappoint you."

A soft clearing of the throat made her move around. Lorenzo stood before her, perfectly dressed and handsome as always. His expression was carefully controlled, but there was a storm of emotion in his eyes.

"My congratulations," he said stiffly and bowed formally.

Before the situation could become awkward, Lady Hazel stepped between them. To Valentina's surprise, she was holding a small parcel in her hands.

"Could we have a quick chat?" asked Hazel, surprisingly politely. "Alone?"

Valentina followed her through an inconspicuous side door into one of the smaller lounges. Hazel walked up and down a few steps, turning the small package in her hands. The usually self-confident young woman looked nervous.

"Mother told me what you did," she finally began. "That you spoke to Father. That he suggested I work at the hospital because of you."

She paused, obviously searching for the right words. "She also told me that you... that you suggested to him that Mother should look for a suitable husband for me, not he himself. One who would fulfill Father's strategic interests as well as..." She swallowed. "As well as being someone I could live with. That I might even..."

"Someone you might even be happy with?" Valentina gently completed the sentence.

"Yes." Hazel turned to the window, her silhouette sharp against the sunlight. "I was always afraid Father would just sell me off to the highest bidder. Some vassal of his, an old widower perhaps, in desperate need of an heir." She laughed bitterly. "How ironic that his mistress, of all people, should be the one to champion my happiness."

"Your father loves you," Valentina said quietly. "Sure, politics comes first, always. But he wants the best for you. He just sometimes has a very peculiar way to show people his love."

Hazel turned back around, her eyes sparkling suspiciously. "You know, I hated you so much. You were that Essence Weaving farmer's daughter who forced her way into our lives, who bewitched my father. I was so angry. And then..." She faltered. "Then you made sure that I was allowed to work in the hospital. That I could do something useful. And now..."

She stepped closer, her voice even softer. "Mother says she has found a promising candidate. He's the younger son of the Earl of Redpool. Educated, not much older than me. He's interested in healing and..." She blushed slightly. "I hear he's very handsome."

"That sounds really promising," smiled Valentina.

"Yes, it does." Hazel took a deep breath. "I... I want to apologize to you. For everything. For the way I've treated you. For the mean remarks. For..."

"It's really all right," Valentina interrupted her gently. "You wanted to protect your mother. I understand that."

"No, I have to say this." Hazel's voice became firm. "I was cruel to you without knowing you. Without understanding." She handed Valentina the package. "Here. It's not much, but... I thought it might be useful."

It was a set of medical scissors. Bandage scissors and surgical scissors. Well crafted. A thoughtful gift – practical and at the same time a tribute to their joint work at the hospital, something that was important to them both.

Hazel stepped back to the window, her fingers playing nervously with one of her dark curls. "May... may I ask you something personal?"

"Of course."

"How can you bear it?" The question burst out of her like a long-retained torrent. "Sleeping with a man as old as my father? Who is married? Who..." She broke off, obviously startled by her own directness.

Valentina stepped next to her at the window, closer to her now than they had ever been outside their working relationship at the hospital.

"You know what it's like to live in a cage," she said softly. "To be born with all these possibilities in front of you, this hunger for more – and at the same time to know that the world puts limits on you just because you were born a woman. That's your cage." She twirled the duke's ring on her finger. "I am not just a woman. My family is dirt poor. Your father... he is the key to my cage. The freedom he gives me – the power, the opportunities... they're worth it. And all in all, he's not a bad man."

"I understand," Hazel said thoughtfully. "More than you might realize." She turned to Valentina, her gaze surprisingly soft. "You know, as a child, I dreamed of becoming an Essence Weaver like Lorenzo. I hoped so hard that one morning I would wake up finally being able to see Essence. But it never happened. I wasn't born with the gift. Instead, I was supposed to be the perfect daughter, the perfect future wife. Thank you for giving me the gift of working at the hospital."

She took a step towards the door, then hesitated. "Do you actually know that my brother really loves you?"

Before Valentina could answer, Hazel had already disappeared.

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