Chapter 1134: Table: Four Seats

Mireilla was rather pleased with herself.

She kept that thought private.

The Threshold had gone well. Better than well, if she judged it by the standards she had carried into the Rotunda. She had remembered the Dowager’s name, found an easy topic through the Valeyn gardens, avoided mangling anyone’s title, and somehow survived a noble reception without once feeling as though she needed Kaleran standing behind her with a stick.

Toven’s suffering had helped.

Watching him discover fresh ways to become nervous made her own mistakes feel remarkably manageable.

She touched one of the small flowers fastened along her sleeve and adjusted a petal with her thumb.

The familiar texture helped settle the last of the energy lingering in her fingers.

Then the Rotunda changed.

TABLE

The reception rooms sank into silver light. Walls folded away, false hearths disappeared, and the broad floor rearranged itself around dining settings.

Mireilla watched three tables form within their section.

Four seats each.

Other tables appeared farther beyond the mana boundaries, but she gave them little attention. Her Role Seal had already begun glowing.

A sixth button appeared beneath the familiar five.

TABLE

The explanation from the brazier was thankfully shorter this time.

Their roles would continue.

Each student would begin at an assigned table. The dossier would provide the conversation already in progress, along with anything their role should remember from the preceding portion of the meal. Once the first service ended, they could leave their seats and approach another table if circumstances allowed.

Mireilla liked that part considerably less.

Sitting through one conversation sounded manageable.

Having to decide when leaving became appropriate sounded exactly like the sort of thing nobles had invented because ordinary problems were insufficient.

A narrow ivory plaque formed from her seal.

LADY NERISSA VALEYN

Mireilla fixed it beneath her collarbone.

Names appeared above the nearest table.

Her own came first.

Then—

MASTER CORVIN AERATH

She looked across the Rotunda.

Lucavion was already looking at the same table.

Their eyes met.

Mireilla sighed.

Lucky or unlucky?

She would decide later.

The remaining seats belonged to Lord Severin Harcourt, heir to Count Harcourt, and Lady Aveline Roth, younger daughter of Viscount Roth.

Mireilla recognized both students behind those roles.

She also recognized the way Severin’s expression changed when he noticed Lucavion’s name.

Aveline’s reaction was quieter. Her gaze lingered for a moment, then shifted away with the careful neutrality people usually adopted when they wanted everyone to understand that their neutrality required effort.

’Wonderful.’

Apparently the table already possessed a problem before anyone sat down.

Mireilla opened her dossier.

—————————

TABLE — OPENING POSITION

The four guests have been seated together for approximately fifteen minutes.

First service is nearing completion.

Present discussion concerns the proposed establishment of an Imperial-supported waystation along the northern medicinal route.

House Valeyn supports construction.

House Aerath supports expanded protection along the route but has questioned the proposed funding structure.

House Harcourt controls significant land surrounding the proposed site.

House Roth holds transport contracts used by several northern estates.

Recent exchange:

Lord Severin Harcourt:

"Those who benefit most directly from safer passage should naturally bear the larger portion of its expense."

Lady Nerissa Valeyn:

"Safety along an Imperial route rarely benefits only the cargo currently traveling through it."

The conversation resumes from this point.

—————————

Mireilla read the last exchange twice.

That sounded like something she might actually say.

Convenient.

Her finger moved across the panel.

"So Valeyn wants the station, Harcourt wants everyone else to pay for it, Roth profits either way, and Aerath wants more guards."

"Almost."

Mireilla looked sideways.

Lucavion stood beside his chair, his own dossier already closed.

She frowned.

"What did I miss?"

"Aerath questioned the funding structure."

"Yes."

"You turned that into wanting more guards."

Mireilla glanced back at the panel.

Lucavion adjusted the cuff of his formalwear.

"The distinction matters. My House supports expanded protection. That could mean patrols, wards, escorts, fortified stops, or the station itself. The dossier only says Aerath dislikes the current way of paying for it."

Mireilla read the line again.

He was right.

She disliked that immediately.

"I knew that."

"Of course."

"You sound very convincing."

"I’ve had practice."

Mireilla closed her dossier and looked at him properly.

He appeared completely at ease.

That alone felt suspicious.

During Kaleran’s lessons Lucavion had treated half the exercises like puzzles placed in front of him for entertainment. He slouched when nobody important cared, spoke far too casually whenever circumstances allowed it, and possessed a remarkable talent for making proper people wonder whether he was mocking them.

Threshold had already suggested another possibility.

Perhaps he simply behaved that way because he usually wanted to.

When Lucavion actually put his mind toward appearing proper, the difference was unsettling.

He pulled Mireilla’s chair back before taking his own, waited until Aveline had settled before sitting, and acknowledged Severin with the exact degree of courtesy owed to the heir of a county.

Every movement looked easy.

Mireilla sat.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

Lucavion glanced at her.

"Do what?"

"That."

His brows lifted faintly.

Mireilla gestured at him with two fingers.

"All of this."

"I sat down."

"You sat down nobly."

A small smile touched his mouth.

"I’ll treasure the compliment."

Across the table, Severin Harcourt watched them.

The student playing him had never been particularly friendly toward Lucavion around the Academy. Mireilla remembered enough glances in lecture halls and enough muttered comments after practical lessons to recognize the feeling.

Aveline seemed to share it.

The Rotunda chimed.

Conversation resumed.

Severin rested one hand beside his glass.

"Then perhaps Lady Valeyn would care to explain which Houses she believes should finance this generosity."

His tone remained courteous.

The edge underneath it belonged somewhere else.

Mireilla straightened slightly.

Before she answered, Lucavion reached for his water.

He looked almost bored.

That irritated her too.

"House Valeyn’s position is that the route itself creates shared value," Mireilla said. "Medicinal shipments happen to make the danger obvious. Merchants, travelers, military couriers, and every estate connected to the northern road benefit from safer passage."

Aveline folded her hands.

"An admirable argument when one’s own wagons are among those being protected."

Mireilla caught the implication.

She also caught Lucavion’s eyes flick briefly toward Aveline.

He had heard it too.

Mireilla smiled.

"Then House Roth should find the argument especially admirable. Your wagons carry half of them."

A pause followed.

Lucavion lowered his glass.

His expression remained perfectly composed.

Mireilla thought she caught amusement in his eyes.

Good.

She had done well in Threshold.

She intended to keep doing well here.

Then Severin turned toward Lucavion.

"And House Aerath?"

The question sounded ordinary.

The way he asked it did not.

Lucavion looked at him.

For the first time since sitting down, Mireilla found herself genuinely curious about what he would do.

******

Lucavion looked at Severin.

"House Aerath’s position is fairly simple, my lord. A protected route benefits everyone using it, but the proposed station would stand on Harcourt land, draw trade toward Harcourt holdings, and reduce losses for the transport Houses moving through the region."

His gaze shifted briefly toward Aveline.

"House Valeyn gains safer medicinal shipments. House Roth gains safer contracts. House Harcourt gains both security and increased traffic around its estates."

He lifted his glass.

"So dividing the expense according to benefit seems more sensible than deciding the travelers must finance an asset that remains after they leave."

Mireilla blinked.

That was...

Good.

Annoyingly good.

Lucavion had neither hurried nor loaded his answer with unnecessary flourishes. He acknowledged each House’s interest, gave Harcourt its due, and placed the disagreement exactly where Aerath’s dossier suggested it belonged.

The funding structure.

Even Severin seemed to require a moment before answering.

Aveline supplied it instead.

"An interesting concern from House Aerath."

Her fingers rested lightly beside her plate.

"Especially considering Aerath caravans have already requested priority use of Harcourt patrols three times this month."

Mireilla’s eyes moved toward Lucavion.

His glass stopped just short of his mouth.

Only for a moment.

Severin leaned back.

"Four times, actually. The most recent request came after an Aerath convoy lost two wagons near Bellor’s Turn."

Aveline gave a small nod.

"Then I stand corrected."

Their exchange flowed easily.

Too easily.

Mireilla searched her own dossier from memory.

She remembered the route. The proposed waystation. Harcourt land. Roth transport contracts. Aerath’s support for expanded protection.

Nothing about Aerath caravans requesting Harcourt patrols.

Lucavion lowered his glass.

His expression barely changed, but Mireilla had spent enough time around him to catch the brief narrowing of his eyes.

He had missed something.

Or rather—

He had overlooked what the Rotunda allowed them to do.

The rules had permitted social deception.

Anything fixed by the dossier remained fixed. Everything else inside the assumed lives possessed considerably more room.

Severin and Aveline had simply filled some of that room together.

Lucavion glanced between them.

For perhaps two breaths, Mireilla expected him to challenge the claim.

Instead, he smiled.

"Four times?"

Severin’s confidence settled more comfortably across his face.

"Four."

"Then House Harcourt has been rather generous."

The answer appeared to please him.

"We take the security of our roads seriously."

"As you should."

Lucavion placed his glass down.

"If Aerath merchants repeatedly rely upon your patrols, I can understand why you would consider the current arrangement burdensome."

Mireilla frowned slightly.

He was conceding?

Aveline seemed to think so too.

"Then perhaps House Aerath’s objection has softened."

"Quite the opposite, Lady Roth."

Lucavion sounded almost apologetic.

Severin’s eyes cooled.

Lucavion continued.

"If House Harcourt already provides the patrols, maintains the surrounding land, and accepts responsibility whenever violence occurs upon that stretch of road, then placing the permanent waystation under Harcourt administration seems increasingly reasonable."

A small silence settled over the table.

Mireilla understood first.

Her lips pressed together.

The bastard.

Severin’s invented detail had strengthened the argument that Harcourt possessed the clearest claim to the station.

It also strengthened the argument that Harcourt should bear a greater share of maintaining an asset under its authority.

Aveline recovered.

"That hardly means one House should carry the expense alone."

"I agree."

Lucavion turned toward her.

"House Aerath never proposed that."

His tone remained warm enough that Mireilla almost became irritated on Aveline’s behalf.

Almost.

"We were discussing proportion."

Severin’s fingers tapped once against the stem of his glass.

"Aerath seems very fond of proportion when another House’s silver is involved."

Lucavion inclined his head.

"And Harcourt appears fond of collective benefit when another House’s silver can be collected."

Mireilla’s eyes shifted between them.

The words themselves remained courteous.

The conversation beneath them had acquired teeth.

Aveline entered again.

"Perhaps the simpler issue is reliability. House Harcourt has already answered Aerath requests repeatedly. One could argue that Aerath has enjoyed the benefits of an arrangement it now finds too expensive to formalize."

Lucavion considered her.

"That is certainly one way to describe it."

"And another?"

"That House Harcourt has encouraged reliance upon a service it intends to use as leverage during negotiations."

Aveline’s smile thinned.

Mireilla slowly reached for her water.

Lucavion had changed.

He still looked like himself. The same relaxed eyes, the same faint curl at one corner of his mouth, the same irritating ease with which he occupied whatever chair someone placed beneath him.

Yet every sentence arrived polished.

He yielded when yielding cost him nothing. He agreed with parts of their arguments before cutting away the part he disliked. Even his provocations carried enough courtesy that answering them angrily would make the other person look worse.

Mireilla knew he could speak well.

She had heard him negotiate.

She had watched him talk people into things.

This was different.

He was behaving.

And somehow that made him more annoying.

Severin leaned forward slightly.

"You make accusation sound very elegant, Master Aerath."

Lucavion’s brows lifted.

"Did it sound like an accusation?"

"You know perfectly well how it sounded."

"Then I should trust your interpretation."

That mild answer irritated Mireilla.

She wasn’t even involved.

Aveline’s gaze sharpened as well.

"You seem remarkably comfortable treating every statement as something to turn around."

Lucavion smiled at her.

"I was under the impression that was conversation."

Mireilla closed her eyes for half a second.

’Insufferable.’

Across the table, Severin’s restraint finally showed a crack.

"Conversation usually requires some respect for the people sharing it."

Lucavion looked at him.

The smile faded into something smaller.

"I have addressed you according to your rank, acknowledged your House’s contribution to the route, accepted information you provided regarding Aerath’s supposed requests, and answered each argument you placed before me."

His fingers rested loosely beside his plate.

"If I have overlooked a courtesy, my lord, I would be grateful if you named it."

Severin’s jaw shifted.

Mireilla saw the trap forming.

Lucavion had left him two choices.

Name an actual breach.

Or admit that etiquette had never been the problem.

Aveline noticed it too.

"My lord, I believe Master Aerath merely—"

"I know what he is doing."

Severin cut across her.

The interruption drew a brief glance from the servant standing several paces away.

Lucavion saw that as well.

His expression remained attentive.

Severin continued.

"Men like you always believe that learning the words is enough."

Mireilla’s fingers stopped against her glass.

Aveline turned toward him.

"Lord Harcourt."

But annoyance had already carried him farther than judgment.

"A polished answer, the correct title, a clever turn of phrase—none of it changes whether a man actually belongs at the table."

Silence.

Real silence this time.

The pleasant murmur from the surrounding tables suddenly seemed much farther away.

Mireilla felt irritation rise hot beneath her ribs.

That had gone beyond the roles.

Perhaps Severin could claim otherwise later.

She doubted anyone at the table believed it.

Lucavion stared at him.

Then he grinned.

Mireilla’s annoyance changed shape immediately.

’Oh, no.’

She knew that grin.

The silver rings around their chairs dissolved with a quiet chime.

First service had ended.

Movement was now permitted.

Lucavion looked down at his Role Seal.

One of the smaller procedural marks along its edge illuminated beneath his thumb.

FORMAL WITHDRAWAL

Mireilla’s eyes widened slightly.

He had remembered the Courtesy Token.

Of course he had.

Lucavion placed his napkin beside the plate and rose.

Aveline spoke first.

"Master Aerath, I believe Lord Harcourt’s wording was—"

"Clear."

Lucavion adjusted one cuff.

His voice carried no anger.

That made the whole thing worse.

He looked toward Severin and offered the courtesy appropriate to his role.

"My lord, thank you for clarifying the limits of your hospitality."

Severin’s face tightened.

Lucavion turned toward Aveline.

"Lady Roth."

Then his gaze reached Mireilla.

"Lady Valeyn. Forgive the early departure."

Mireilla stared at him.

He had been caught at the beginning.

She knew that.

Severin and Aveline had created a detail together, and Lucavion had walked straight into it because he had treated the dossier as though every important fact would be written there.

Yet somewhere along the way, he had made them defend the invention.

Then elaborate on it.

Then become irritated when he used their own version against them.

And now Severin had handed him a socially defensible reason to leave.

The formal withdrawal mark brightened.

A narrow path of silver appeared from Lucavion’s chair toward the edge of the scenario.

His private objectives would remain unfinished.

His Outcome score would suffer.

Lucavion appeared entirely comfortable with that exchange.

Severin seemed to understand it a heartbeat later.

"You would abandon the entire table over one sentence?"

Lucavion paused.

He looked back.

"One sentence?"

His smile returned faintly.

"No, my lord."

He glanced once at Aveline.

Then at the meal still resting before them.

"I simply think the conversation has reached the point where remaining would require all four of us to pretend it has been something else."

Mireilla’s grip tightened around her glass.

She was annoyed.

Deeply annoyed.

Mostly because that was an excellent line.

Lucavion inclined his head once more.

Then he followed the silver path away from the table.

He did not approach another group.

He walked straight toward the boundary of the Table scenario.

The light opened for him.

And Master Corvin Aerath left the dinner before the second course.