Valentina leaned forward to peer through the curtains. Through the grey haze, she saw only shadows at first, but then the fog lifted a little, revealing a view of Dusktown.

The town stretched over several gentle hills, its grey stone buildings rising in steps from the valley. The permanent haze that hung over the town – a mixture of coastal fog drifting in from the coast not too far away, smoke from countless chimneys and the remnants of the Scorching – probably gave even bright days a muted quality. This atmosphere lent an otherworldly quality to the town's distinctive granite, especially in the diffused light of the late afternoon sun.

"Parts of the city had to be rebuilt after the Scorching," Gregor explained as he skillfully steered the horses through the first foothills of the settlement. "The Duke – that is, the great-grandfather of our current Duke – sent for the best architects and Master Weavers. The whole town is criss-crossed with Essence patterns, designed to purify the air and keep out the worst effects of the Scorched Lands. I'm not a Weaver of course, so I have to take their word for it, but it seems to work." He laughed.

"Fascinating," commented Vyxara. "The patterns really are impressively complex. See how they run through the whole city? A masterpiece of geometry."

They passed the first houses – simple wooden buildings, many of them in poor condition. The poorest people in the town obviously lived here. Children in ragged clothes stared after the ducal carriage with wide eyes. A group of men, whom Valentina recognized as day labourers by their clothing, hurriedly made way.

The further they drove into the city, the more solid the buildings became. Wood gave way to stone, the streets became wider and cleaner. Valentina saw traces of Essence Weaving everywhere – from permanently lit Essence-infused lamps on the street corners to the fine patterns that were used to create different effects on some of the walls.

The carriage turned onto a wide avenue. On either side stood magnificent townhouses made of the grey granite for which Dusktown was known. Wealthy citizens in fine clothes strolled along the sidewalks while their carriages clogged the street. An old-fashioned Essence Weaver, wearing the traditional scholar's cap that was hardly ever really worn anymore, made his way through the crowd.

"Merchant's Row," Gregor explained. "This is where the richest merchants and guild masters in the city live." He pointed to a particularly splendid building. "That one belongs to the Guildmaster of the Goldsmiths, Gwonderic Ellisbrooke. They say his workshops are the best outside of Vandercourt."

The noble district was heralded by a massive wall made of the characteristic grey stone. The guards at the gate wore the Duke's livery and saluted when they recognized the carriage.

The architecture was even more impressive there. Magnificent mansions with ornate facades were lined up one after the other, each surrounded by a well-tended garden. The air was filled with the scent of exotic flowers.

And then, as they rounded a final bend, the ducal palace came into view. Valentina's breath caught in her throat.

The palace dominated the center of the city, a sprawling complex of towers and courtyards. It had been built in several stages over generations of Greystones, resulting in a fascinating mix of architectural styles. Most striking was the Moon Tower, a circular structure with a dome covered in polished silver.

"In the moonlight, the dome shines like a second moon," Gregor explained to her, correctly interpreting her astonished sigh.

Right next to the palace, connected by a covered walkway, stood the Greystone Hospital. Unlike the playful grandeur of the palace, its architecture emphasized function over form, even as it exuded its own imposing dignity. Permanent Essence patterns were infused into the thick walls, controlling the flow of Essence and clearly designed to aid healing. Valentina had never seen such a purposeful and coordinated combination of architecture and Essence Weaving, not even in Bridgewater. The building was arranged in concentric circles, focusing and reinforcing the effect of the patterns from the outside in.

"Very impressive," commented Vyxara approvingly. "The Essence patterns are exceptionally cleverly constructed – for humans. See how they reinforce each other? It's almost like a living organism."

"I'm going to work there?" Valentina asked quietly.

"Yes, My Lady," Gregor confirmed. "The Duke's hospital is famous throughout the realm. Master Wilford runs it – a brilliant man, if sometimes a little... well, you'll see."

The carriage stopped in front of a wide staircase. Servants in the Duke's grey livery hurried up.

A small, precise-looking man in impeccable clothing came down the steps. His white hair was carefully combed, his posture upright and dignified.

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"Welcome to Dusktown, My Lady," he said with a precise bow. "I am Chamberlain Morris Birch. His Grace will welcome you personally tomorrow, but tonight I'm sure you'll wish to rest after your journey." His voice was cultured and measured, each word carefully placed. "I have chosen a personal maid for you – Jenny Thimbel."

A slender girl with mousy brown hair stepped forward and curtsied. She might have been sixteen, just a few years younger than Valentina herself. Her face was friendly, if not particularly pretty, and she moved with a slight limp.

"It is an honor to serve you, My Lady," Jenny said with another curtsy. Her voice sounded eager, almost overzealous.

Valentina felt strangely uncomfortable at the thought of having her own servant. Just a year ago, she had milked the cows herself every day, and now someone was supposed to help her get dressed?

Valentina was led through high corridors, past precious tapestries and ornate Essence lamps. Jenny chatted quietly to herself, explaining the way to the dining room, the library and the gardens. Valentina only listened with half an ear, too overwhelmed by the splendor around her.

Finally, Jenny opened a heavy oak door. "Your rooms, My Lady."

Valentina entered and stopped, overwhelmed. Her chambers were larger than her entire family home. Warm golden silk tapestries adorned the walls. Heavy curtains of burgundy velvet framed high windows. Precious carpets lay on the polished wooden floor.

One door led to an elegantly furnished bedroom with a huge four-poster bed. Another opened onto a private balcony overlooking the ducal gardens. There were vases of fresh roses everywhere – her favorite flowers, as the Duke had somehow found out.

"How thoughtful of His Grace," purred Vyxara. "And your rooms are very close to his own chambers. What a coincidence."

"Dinner will be served in an hour," Jenny said as she began to unpack Valentina's luggage.

Jenny moved busily around the room, opening cupboards and starting to put Valentina's modest wardrobe away. Despite her slight limp, she was surprisingly nimble. As she worked, she chattered away happily.

"I know the palace like the back of my hand, My Lady," she said proudly. "My mother has been a cook here for as long as I can remember. Oh, and don't worry about remembering the way – I'll show you around. The palace is big, but you get used to it quickly." She paused for a moment. "Forgive me, My Lady, I talk too much, don't I?"

"No, no, that's all right," Valentina assured her hastily. It was strange to hear someone ask permission to speak. "So you know your way around here?"

Jenny's face brightened. "Oh yes, my lady! I know all the shortcuts and the best routes to the gardens, the library, everywhere. And I also know when the cooks are baking fresh pies," she added with a conspiratorial smile.

"Shall I run you a bath, My Lady?"

Valentina nodded mechanically. She stepped out onto the balcony and took a deep breath. The air was filled with the scent of the roses that grew here. The Duke's gardens stretched out below her, a labyrinth of artfully trimmed hedges, babbling fountains and exotic plants. It was beautiful.

"Welcome to your new life," Vyxara said gently.

"The bath's ready, My Lady," Jenny called out eagerly.

The bathroom – even more luxury. The tub was surprisingly spacious, made of polished copper, and how water with fragrant oils steamed invitingly. Jenny skillfully helped Valentina undress, quickly stowing each garment carefully.

Valentina initially felt uncomfortable letting someone help her so intimately, but Vyxara immediately stepped in when Valentina hesitated.

"Get used to it," Vyxara advised. "That's part of it. Just enjoy being looked after."

As Valentina slid into the perfectly tempered water and Jenny began to gently wash her back, she had to admit that the demon was right. It was actually... pleasant.

"How long have you been working here at the palace, Jenny?" she asked.

"Oh, all my life, My Lady," Jenny replied eagerly. "My mother is a cook here, as I said, you know. She makes the best pies. I practically grew up in the palace kitchen."

While Jenny washed Valentina's hair, she talked animatedly about life in the palace, about the other servants, about little secrets such as the best time to steal fresh bread rolls from the kitchen. When she realized what she had blurted out in her chatter, a blush briefly appeared on her face.

"And... What's the Duke like?" Valentina asked cautiously.

Jenny hesitated briefly. "His Grace is... very generous to his people," she finally said diplomatically. "And has a great eye for talent."

They were silent for a moment, then Jenny suddenly said: "I'm sure you're wondering why I'm limping, my lady. You don't need to ask, I'll be happy to tell you." She helped Valentina out of the now only lukewarm bath and began to dry her off. "When I was a child, I secretly climbed onto one of the horses – stupid of me, I didn't know anything about riding, but I like horses so much, you know. The horse shied and fell on me. My foot was very badly broken."

"But wasn't it treated at the hospital?" asked Valentina.

"Oh yes," nodded Jenny. "But the fracture was very complicated and something went wrong with the Weaving. Master Wilford always frowns when he sees me – he's still annoyed that the healing wasn't perfect. He's very... accurate."

While helping Valentina put on a silk nightgown, Jenny asked shyly, "Is it true you're a Weaver too, My Lady? Could you... could you perhaps... well, demonstrate something?"

Valentina smiled and, with a deft movement of her hand, formed a pattern using only ambient Essence to boil the bath water again. It bubbled violently and steam rose.

"Fantastic!" Jenny exclaimed enthusiastically.

A servant brought dinner – roast quail in wine sauce, fresh bread, pickled fruit and a light, fruity wine. Jenny made sure that Valentina's glass was never empty.

"I have to admit," commented Vyxara approvingly, "the cuisine here is excellent."

When Valentina later sank into the huge bed covered in the finest linen, she felt pleasantly relaxed from the wine and the warmth. The mattress was perfect – not too hard and not too soft. She snuggled into the silky pillows and the gentle scent of the roses and the soft murmur of the fountain in the garden carried her off to sleep almost immediately.

"Ahhh," Vyxara sighed pleasantly as Valentina dozed off. "Now that's what I call a bed."

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