The very next morning we made our way to our new home in Edenveil. It sat on the inner ring, one of five properties that shared the palace's immediate perimeter. An excessively generous gift for a newly minted baronage.

  The place was a sight to behold. Two stories of the same pale gold stone as the palace, tall arched windows framed in light oak wood, and a hand-carved grand front door that likely cost more than the entire farm.

  The entrance hall was spacious and had a black and cream chessboard tile pattern. I was expecting the inside to look abandoned, but everything was well taken care of.

  A red-haired man in a butler uniform appeared from somewhere and introduced himself.

  “I am Geoffrey, the butler assigned by the crown to manage the small staff we have now—gardeners, a couple of maids, and a cook—until you establish a more permanent staff.”

  His long hair was tied up in a low ponytail behind his back. Nothing about him looked inconspicuous—the bright red hair, the radiant green eyes, and the tall, lanky frame announced themselves—yet we only noticed him when he introduced himself.

  “You’ve done a great job maintaining this property,” said Papa appreciatively, looking around. Through the windows you could see the trimmed colorful flower beds—reds and yellows creating a warmth that was missing from the palace.

  This had been someone’s home. Someone had carefully picked what grew here.

  “Thank you, my lord. The staff is hardworking and professional,” replied our humble butler animatedly.

  Bored with the conversation, Finn ran ahead to claim the best bedroom all for himself. We only had two bedrooms at the farm. Mostly we all slept together in the same room to keep warm.

  Rowan followed soon after, much slower.

  Papa stood in the entrance hall and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. The crystal chandelier was clean enough to reflect his contemplative expression back at him. He tightened his fists and then loosened them.

  “I would like a tour of the property. Let’s walk,” he finally said to the butler, shooing me off to go after the other children.

  I gave him one final look as if to communicate that I was missing what he was missing and that it would be alright.

  He patted my head gently and then twirled a pink lock of my hair on his finger before remembering his agenda and shooing me off again.

  This time, I walked up the stairs. I didn’t see a single family photo on the walls. There were no identifying artifacts. I wondered if the furniture belonged to the family or not.

  I would learn much later what had happened to the family who lived here before us—what they stood for and why they fell.

  I picked a room in the middle of the west wing with a clear view of the palace. There was only a small balcony attached to the room. Not enough for anyone to hide in. I walked around the room feeling for any magical devices or hidden secrets. I couldn’t think of this place as just mine yet.

  The door leading to the bathroom was disguised by an armoire. I opened it expecting empty space where I could move in the clothes Agnes told me were a gift from the royal family. The walk-in closet had another door through which you reached a bathroom.

  The bathroom itself was modest compared to the palace. Not a knock on it. It had beautiful marble flooring and statues of stags and deer. The faucets had a silver sheen that immediately caught my eye. The bath itself looked deep. However, I could not bring myself to relax in it until I could keep a barrier up even while sleeping.

  I walked back out of the bathroom into the room and then back to the entrance. My luggage mainly consisted of the gifts from the palace.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  I began levitating them back to my room.

  “My lady, we can have a servant settle the luggage in your room,” said Geoffrey the butler, intercepting me on my way back.

  “No, thanks,” I replied, continuing as my luggage followed me.

  This was decent practice. I could levitate my luggage easily enough, with power not being an issue for me. But actually putting each piece where it belonged in the room proved to be difficult with my level of control right now. It took all my concentration to organize the belongings, juggling multiple small items together.

  Ending a war was turning out to be easier than even the most mundane things I was doing afterward.

  Satisfied with how my room looked, I left.

  I needed to figure out a way to lock my room and make it a sanctuary.

  My stomach growled at my thoughts.

  Agnes had advised against eating solids, so I had a soupy porridge for breakfast. I needed something more.

  It was time to find the kitchen.

  I walked around the ground floor opening any closed door I saw and finally found the kitchen behind one of them at the end of the hallway, tucked away from the main living areas.

  “Hello. I am Mira,” I introduced myself to the chef. He had a cleaver in his hand. He was working through a large animal carcass. A goat, if I had to guess.

  “My lady, what are you doing here? Please ask a maid to bring you food if you’re hungry,” he replied, putting away his blade and bringing his hands together in a gesture of surprise. He gave me a distinct impression of a pig—in a good way.

  “Oh, I will do that next time. I am feeling quite peckish. Can you give me something to eat? I am only supposed to have liquids and soft food,” I told him earnestly.

  He seemed to think for a moment. I didn’t know if my assassination attempt was common knowledge yet.

  “Give me a moment to prepare a treat for my lady. I will bring it for you in the garden pavilion.”

  He called a maid to show me the way to the pavilion. An outdoor tea seating was already prepared there.

  I found myself restless while waiting for the food, not wanting to interact with the maid. She didn’t look suspicious. No tears on her face to point to any dead relatives, but I was suspicious of all maids now.

  My thoughts turned dark as I sat there smelling the flowers, sunlight streaming over me.

  The food could be poisonous too. There was no way for me to be sure. There must be some sort of magic or techniques to detect common poisons. I had to learn them.

  I mentally made a to-do list for myself.

  One, learn how to form a long-running passive barrier to protect against assassins in my sleep.

  Two, learn how to detect common poisons in food and drinks.

  I was confident I could defend myself against most threats if I had the opportunity to use magic. But someone could easily stab me before I realized they were there. I needed to hone my instinct for danger.

  I looked up at the sound of a tray being placed on the table.

  I didn’t notice the maid leave. Not because she was a ninja with superior stealth. It was my own lack of instincts. I was too easily lost in my thoughts. This had cost me once on the battlefield and once outside it. My luck would run out eventually.

  The maid didn’t stare at me. She was stepping away when I stopped her.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “I am Rosa, my lady,” she replied, eyes downcast.

  I felt bad doing this, but it had to be done. I didn’t want to die because I cared too much about my would-be assassin’s feelings. I steeled myself.

  “Taste the food for me,” I said evenly, attempting to inject authority into my baby-like voice.

  The maid readily agreed, reassuring me.

  The cutlery was silver, and I remembered something about silver turning black when exposed to certain poisons—or was it sulfuric compounds? She took out a portion for herself. The cutlery remained unvarnished. I saw the food disappear into her mouth.

  We stared at each other. I looked at the teacup.

  She tasted that too.

  We continued staring at each other. Minutes passed and nothing unusual happened.

  “Thank you,” I told her, genuinely meaning it.

  The pudding tasted of almond and vanilla. It dissolved in my mouth. It was cool to taste, making me wonder if they used magic to fast-freeze it. There were no solid almond bits garnished over the top, making the food look deceptively boring.

  I picked up the teacup. Steam tickled my nose as I brought it closer. It gave off a faint sweet aroma reminiscent of springtime. I took a sip, enjoying the lightness it brought to my soul.

  I was glad to be alive.

  After the tea and pudding I began exploring the east wing on the second floor. There I found the library. It was behind ornate double doors. There was a comfortable sitting area nestled in the corner where light streamed in through the arched windows.

  The book collection itself was vast.

  Just the sight of it had me falling to my knees and kissing the entrance.

  I loved books for sure, but that was not all of it. This library was filled with magical books. Yes, magical books I could learn magic from.

  Until now, all the information I had received came through a filter—a book chosen by Agnes or Keiran or the Master.

  Now I could pick up a book on barrier magic without asking for anyone’s permission. I could learn it. I could practice it and, yes, even master it.