Lillian fell into step beside Evelina, her heels clicking against the marble floor in a rhythm that matched the older woman’s pace. The corridor stretched before them, lined with doors that led to other apartments, other rooms, other people who had no idea what was about to unfold in their city.

They descended the stairs together, emerging into the building’s lobby. A few guests milled about, reading newspapers or sipping coffee, none of them paying attention to the two women in expensive clothes who swept past them and out the front entrance.

The morning air hit Lillian’s face, cool and damp, carrying the scent of flowers from the planters that lined the street. Above them, the church’s spires pierced the grey sky, gold leaf glinting despite the lack of sun.

"Where are we going?" Lillian asked.

"To see an old friend."

Evelina didn’t elaborate. She simply walked, her white hair swaying with each step, her ring catching the light. Lillian followed, with a simple blue dress that marked her as nobility to anyone who cared to look.

The streets grew narrower as they left the main plaza behind. The crowds thinned, the merchants disappeared, and the buildings shifted from grand mansions to modest townhouses to something older.

"Where are we?" Lillian asked again, her hand drifting to the wand at her hip.

"Somewhere fun."

Evelina stopped before a door that might have been a wall, so seamlessly did it blend into the stone around it.

No handle. No knocker. No visible way to announce their presence.

She knocked anyway.

Three times.

The door swung open.

The woman on the other side was old. Not the elegant aging of noblewomen who could afford the best cosmetic magic, but the genuine, weathered age of someone who had lived hard and survived anyway. Her hair was grey, her face lined, her eyes sharp and clear.

"Evelina D’Arclight," the old woman said. "I wondered when you’d come calling."

"W-Who is this?" Lillian asked.

"I made my own plans, just in case Marcellus messed up."

"You never trusted him in the first place, huh?"

"Not one bit."

Evelina stepped through the doorway without waiting for an invitation, and Lillian followed close behind.

The room beyond was larger than the exterior suggested. Bookshelves lined every wall, stuffed with volumes that looked older than some kingdoms. A fireplace crackled in the corner, though the morning wasn’t cold, and above the mantle hung a portrait of a woman who could have been the old woman’s younger sister.

Or herself, decades ago.

"Sit," the old woman said, gesturing toward a pair of worn armchairs positioned before the fire. "You’re not here for pleasantries, and I’m too old for them."

Evelina sat. Lillian hesitated, then sat beside her.

The old woman lowered herself into a third chair, her joints popping softly as she settled. Her eyes, that sharp and clear grey, moved between the two of them with an intelligence that made Lillian’s skin prickle.

"Your man," the old woman said to Evelina, "the odd one, how’s he been? I heard the rumours."

"He’s impressive, among other things."

"The best kind of man then."

The old woman snorted, a sound that might have been a laugh in another life. She reached for a pipe resting on the table beside her, packed it with something that smelled like herbs and something Lillian couldn’t identify.

"So... you want to go ahead with our plan, mistress?"

"No, the prince still hasn’t fully broken yet. I suggest we follow plan D instead."

"Plan D!?" Lillian widened her eyes. "H-How many...?"

"Too many to count, my dear, Lady D’Arclight has always been precise, you see."

"Plan D," the old woman repeated, turning the words over like she was tasting them. Her pipe glowed, sending a thin curl of smoke toward the ceiling. "That’s the messy one."

"The other plans assumed Marcellus would hold." Evelina’s voice was flat, clinical. "He’s not holding."

Lillian’s gaze flickered between them. "You’ve been planning for the prince to fail?"

"I’ve been planning for every possible outcome. His failure was always a possibility."

Lillian’s hand tightened. However many contingency plans Evelina had made, they were still on the same side.

The old woman leaned forward, her sharp grey eyes fixed on Evelina. "Plan D means we go active. No more observers. No more waiting. We start pulling people off the streets."

"How many can you move?"

"Depends on how much warning we have." The old woman glanced at Lillian. "And how much help I get from her family’s assets."

Lillian blinked. "My family’s assets?"

"The Valemont trading company," Evelina said. "They have warehouses throughout the Holy City. Distribution networks. Wagons that could be repurposed for evacuation."

"You want me to commit my family’s resources to—"

"I want you to save lives, Valemont." Evelina’s crimson eyes bored into her. "You came to me because you wanted to lessen the casualties. This is how we do it." 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

The fireplace crackled, sending shadows dancing across the bookshelves. Lillian’s reflection stared back at her from the dark window glass, pale and uncertain.

"How many people are we talking about?" she asked.

"Hard to say." The old woman tapped her pipe against a stone, knocking out ash. "The church has been bringing in pilgrims for days. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands. We can’t save them all."

"We don’t need to save them all." Evelina stood, pacing before the fire. "We just need to save enough that Marcellus can live with himself. Enough that he gives the signal."

"You’re manipulating him," Lillian said.

"I’m managing him."

Lillian wanted to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. Because Evelina was right, wasn’t she? Marcellus was hesitating. The plan was crumbling before it had even begun. And if they didn’t do something, thousands would die for no purpose at all.

"What do you need from me?" she asked finally.

Evelina’s lips curved. Not quite a smile, but close.

"Access codes to your family’s warehouses. A letter of authorization bearing your seal. And enough gold to bribe every guard and official between here and the outer gates."

"That’s... a lot."

"You wanted to help. This is how. Besides, I already spent too much of my own assets on all my backup plans."

Lillian reached into her dress and withdrew a small leather pouch. Her family seal was embossed on the flap, the Valemont crest, a tower rising from stormy seas. She held it for a moment, weighing it in her palm.

"If my father finds out about this—"

"He won’t." Evelina took the pouch. "By the time this is over, he’ll have bigger concerns than missing inventory."