The familiar Leb Essence current of the Greystone Cascade surrounded Valentina as she formed the patterns, running her hands over the gaping wound. After all those weeks in Dusktown, the complex healing process was as familiar to her as breathing.

"Better," Master Wilford grumbled approvingly.

"Oh, a real compliment from the old curmudgeon?" laughed Vyxara in her head. "You've earned it. You're actually getting better and better."

The days at the hospital ran in a regular rhythm. In the mornings they did a ward round for the serious cases in the inner ring, then afterwards they treated the everyday injuries and illnesses in the outer rings. Valentina learned to read the subtle vibrations of the Cascade, sensing exactly how the building's reinforcing Essence architecture supported her healings.

Claire, one of the other healers, winked at her. "He even smiled secretly last week when you treated the blacksmith's burn. A real miracle!"

Valentina smiled back as she closed the carpenter's wound in front of her. The collegial atmosphere in the hospital was a welcome change from the complex intrigue at court.

Lorenzo appeared in the doorway, as he did every morning in his grey healer's robe, which for some reason looked so much better on him than on the rest of them. His smile was warm but distant – they both tried to remain professional, even if the tension between them was almost palpable at times.

"The connection patterns we talked about yesterday are showing promising results," he said as he helped her prepare bandages. "I think we're close to being able to connect the water purification pattern to the Cascade, we just need to-"

"That's a good development," Master Wilford interrupted brusquely. "But first the patients, then the research."

Valentina usually spent her afternoons in the library, immersed in old medical texts. Sometimes Lorenzo would join her and they would discuss new approaches to their patterns. His enthusiasm was infectious, his knowledge impressive. In moments like these, she almost forgot her complicated situation – almost.

The evenings belonged to the duke and his inner circle. Lady Celestine had taken her under her wing, introducing her to the conversations and the subtle rules between the members of the duke's inner circle. The conversations became more revealing, the touches longer, the glances more meaningful, the evening pleasures increasingly daring and the strict rules of etiquette gave way to an elegant form of licentiousness.

Valentina became acquainted with the ritual games of the inner circle – the elaborate tableaux with naked performers, the intimate "musical evenings" of Countess Rosamere and the nightly baths where the boundaries between the couples sometimes blurred. It was a world of cultivated debauchery, where everyone was allowed to take as long as they kept to form and were ready to give in return. The duke clearly enjoyed initiating her into these mysteries, his eyes dark with desire when she joined in the games, but without daring to do too much yet.

The duke was an attentive lover. Her nightly visits to him became a familiar ritual – his strong hands on her skin, his weight on her, his kisses sometimes tender, sometimes demanding. She got to know his preferences, enjoyed his generosity and the power she had over him and gave herself to him freely in return.

"You're really blossoming," Vyxara remarked with amusement. "Who would have thought that the good girl from Palewood would become such a talented courtesan?"

In the meantime, Lady Hazel had reluctantly taken up her work as a non-weaving nurse and aspiring healer. Her initial defiance slowly gave way to genuine interest. Valentina watched as the duke's daughter learned how to apply bandages, mix herbs and calm patients.

The duchess observed these developments with cool satisfaction. During one of their rare conversations, she indicated that she appreciated Valentina's role in the matter.

"Your... suggestion to my husband was wise," she said with a subtle smile. "Hazel needs a meaningful task. And it will do her good to learn, when the opportunity arises, that you of all people have stood up for her."

The duchess's gaze softened, almost maternal. "You surprise me, my dear. Most in your position would have simply endured my daughter's hostility or repaid her in kind. But you have found a way that benefits everyone."

"I was only following your example, Your Grace," Valentina told her sincerely. The duchess nodded respectfully to her. They understood each other.

When she had a quiet minute, she wrote many letters, to her family in Palewood, to Innogen, to Crispin – of course she didn't tell them all about the same things and none of them everything.

The weeks flew by. Valentina felt herself growing in her tasks. Her healings became more precise and easier, her conversations at court more skillful, her nightly encounters with the duke more passionate and fulfilling.

"And never forget, this is just the beginning," Vyxara purred contentedly. "One day you will shake this world, little Weaver."

Valentina had just returned to her chambers from the hospital, exhausted from a long day, and was about to change for an evening with the inner circle after a quick bath, which Jenny had hopefully already prepared, when Master Lucian intercepted her.

"A moment of your time, Valentina," he said in his soft voice. "There is a matter that requires your attention."

"Oh, the spymaster himself," Vyxara commented curiously. "I wonder what he wants?"

Master Lucian led Valentina into his study, a surprisingly modest room that was more like a writing room than what she would have expected as the refuge of the duke's personal Essence Weaver. Only the subtle and, to the trained eye, quite menacing Essence patterns that shimmered like cobwebs in the corners betrayed the true nature of the room.

"Please, sit down," he said, pointing to a plain wooden chair in front of his paper-covered desk. A young scribe, who had been sorting documents in the corner, bowed hastily and left the room.

"How cozy," mocked Vyxara. "You could almost forget that the most dangerous man in the court is sitting here. Oh, and he's shagging the scribe."

Master Lucian sat down behind his desk and folded his hands. His grey eyes studied her attentively. "I have received some... disturbing news from Palewood."

Valentina's heart skipped a beat. "My family-"

"Is fine," he reassured her with a subtle smile. "Thanks to our intervention. But Aldred Brentwood has tried to petition the sheriff."

He pulled a document out of a pile and skimmed it. "Serious accusations. Suspicion of demonic influence, manipulation of Essence to the detriment of himself and his sons..." He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Completely unfounded, of course. But unpleasant when such rumors reach the wrong ears."

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"Completely unfounded..." Vyxara giggled. "Oh yes, Brentwood really does have a vivid imagination, doesn't he?"

"The sheriff rejected the petition?" asked Valentina, trying to sound calm.

"He never had a chance to read it." Master Lucian put the document aside. "One of my... associates intercepted it. Along with some other interesting letters Brentwood had written to potential allies."

He leaned back in his chair. "The good man was obviously planning to start a little campaign against your family. Nothing too dangerous, but certainly annoying. Fortunately, I was able to plant a few discreet hints that made him realize the hopelessness of his plan."

"Hints?" Valentina asked.

Master Lucian's smile grew a touch colder. "Well, let's just say it was made clear to him that your family is under the duke's personal protection. And that certain... business practices of his family may not be entirely in accordance with the laws of His Majesty the King."

"I understand," Valentina said quietly. "Thank you."

"Not worth mentioning." He waved it off. "His Grace appreciates your company very much. It's only natural that I should take care of such trifles, I haven't even bothered His Grace with this."

"How gallantly he puts it," Vyxara purred. "'Company' – what a pretty word for what you do with the duke at night."

Valentina ignored the comment. "Are there any other... threats I should know about?"

"You're asking the right questions." Master Lucian nodded approvingly. "Indeed, there are some interesting developments. Lady Margaret seems to see you as a threat to her position at court. Completely unfounded, of course, but she has already tried to spread certain rumors about your origins."

He pulled out a small list. "Then there's Lady Wicklethorne, who wants to bring her daughters into play as potential mistresses for the duke. The duke isn't interested, but she's persistent. And, of course, the usual grudgers and busybodies hoping to gain influence by gossiping about you."

Valentina took in the information carefully. "How should I react to this?"

"Not at all for the time being." Master Lucian folded the list carefully. "Ignore the rumors, be polite to everyone, even your enemies. Show your gratitude for the duke's protection. And..." A mischievous smile flitted across his face. "If you happen to overhear any interesting conversations, let me know."

"He knows about your Essence Listening ability," Vyxara warned. "But he won't mention it unless you do."

"Of course," Valentina said neutrally. She stood up and bowed slightly. "I thank you for your... attention in this matter."

"You're welcome." Master Lucian was already devoting himself to his papers again. "Oh, and Valentina?" He looked up briefly. "Good work at the hospital. Master Wilford is very pleased with your progress. And the idea with Lady Hazel was brilliant."

Valentina left his study thoughtfully. The world of the court was a nest of vipers, but she was finding it increasingly easy to move around in it. And she had powerful allies.

"As long as you keep the duke happy," Vyxara reminded her, amused.

"Good thing I actually like keeping him happy," Valentina thought back and a smile flitted across her face.

~

"No, you're doing it wrong! You have to drip the herbal liqueur on first before you put the bandage on!" snapped Hazel.

"If I did that, the liqueur would disturb the interaction with the Leb Essence that I need for this," Valentina replied, forcing herself to calm down. "The liqueur is no longer so important at this stage of wound healing."

"Oh, of course – the great Essence Weaver knows everything better!" Hazel's green eyes sparkled with anger. "How could Dusktown have gone all these years without your wisdom-"

"Ladies!" Master Wilford's sharp voice cut through their argument. "If you're done bickering, I have an emergency for you here."

He pointed to a small boy, perhaps eight or nine years old, who was being led into the treatment room supported by his mother. His face was contorted in pain, his right hand wrapped in a blood-soaked cloth.

"Oh, that doesn't look good," muttered Vyxara. "Can you smell the rot?"

"What happened?" asked Valentina as she approached the child.

"He cut himself on a rusty saw three days ago," the mother explained hastily. She was a gaunt woman in a mended dress. "I thought it would heal on its own, but this morning his hand was swollen and he has a high fever..."

Hazel stepped forward and gently placed a hand on the boy's forehead. "What's your name, kiddo?"

"Tom," he whispered. His eyes were glassy from the fever.

"All right, Tom. I'm Hazel, and this is Valentina. We're going to look after you." Her voice was surprisingly soft. "Can we have a look at your hand?"

The boy nodded bravely. Hazel carefully unwrapped the cloth. Valentina suppressed a curse – the wound was badly infected, the skin around the deep cut on his index finger dark red and swollen. Black lines were already running up his hand.

"Blood poisoning," Vyxara diagnosed. "And already well advanced."

"We have to act quickly," said Valentina. She was already beginning to weave the necessary pattern from Leb Essence. "Hazel, I need the herbal liqueur and-"

"I know that myself!" snapped Hazel, but she was already hurrying off to get what she needed.

The next hour blurred into frantic activity. Valentina struggled with the Essence, trying to contain the infection, while Hazel prepared bandages, mixed herbs and tried to clean the pus from the wound. The boy was amazingly brave, only crying softly when they had to clean the wound.

"The infection is spreading too quickly," Valentina muttered in frustration. "The pattern is far too ineffective..." It was devastating, she knew that in theory there had to be a better and more efficient pattern – but it simply wasn't known to the scholars.

"Here." Hazel handed over a steaming bowl. "An infusion of poppies and willow bark. That should ease the pain."

She helped Tom to drink carefully while Valentina tried to modify and reinforce the Essence patterns once more. Her hands moved with concentrated effort.

"The black lines are getting longer," Hazel remarked after a while. Her voice was unusually serious.

Valentina nodded grimly. "If we can't stop the infection..."

"Then he doesn't just lose the finger, but the whole hand. Or worse." Hazel bit her lip. "We'll have to amputate the finger. Now."

"No!" Tom sobbed. "Please don't!"

His mother hugged him tightly. "Isn't there any other way?"

Valentina checked the Essence patterns again. The infection had already eaten too deeply into the tissue. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "But Hazel is right. If we wait too long..."

They exchanged a look. For the first time, there was no hostility in Hazel's eyes, just professional determination. "I'll get everything ready," she said curtly and hurried off.

The next few minutes were the hardest. They had to explain to Tom and his mother what was going to happen. Hazel did most of it, her voice gentle but firm. She had a natural gift with children, even Valentina had to admit that.

"It'll just be a little moment," Hazel promised as she skillfully prepared the Essence-infused bandages. "And you'll feel much better afterwards."

Meanwhile, Valentina wove a complicated self-developed anesthetic pattern of Leb, Wazzer and Zît. "Can you feel that?" she asked, pinching Tom's hand.

He shook his head, his eyes wide with fear.

"Good." She nodded to Hazel. "Ready?"

The operation itself was over quickly. Under Manwise's guidance and with his support, they amputated the finger. Hazel's hands were amazingly skillful, and Valentina's Essence patterns prevented any major bleeding. Tom was brave, crying quietly in his mother's arms.

"Look," Hazel said as she applied the last bandage. "You did a great job. You're the bravest boy I've ever seen."

She pulled a small wooden figure out of her pocket, which she had quickly got into the habit of always having with her in hospital to make the sick children happy. She handed Tom a small carved knight. "Look, this knight maybe is almost as brave and courageous as you. Would you like to have him?"

Tom's eyes lit up, despite his exhaustion. He carefully took the figure in his healthy hand.

"You'll be back in the morning," Hazel instructed his mother. "The wound needs to be tended to regularly. Keep your hands off the bandage and make sure it stays dry and clean. And make sure he drinks a lot."

After mother and child had left, they tidied up in silence. The tension of the last hour was still palpable in the air. It wasn't nice to have to amputate a little boy's finger.

"That was... good work," Valentina finally said. "With the boy. You have a knack for it."

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, but a subtle smile flitted across her face. "You too. Your Essence patterns were... impressive. They make this so much easier."

She hesitated for a moment. "Perhaps... could you teach me more about the Greystone Cascade? Even if I can't weave it myself, it would be useful to understand how it works."

"Gladly," said Valentina in surprise. "Tomorrow after the ward round?"

Hazel nodded curtly and turned to leave. She stopped briefly in the doorway. "That doesn't mean I like you," she said over her shoulder. "But... you're a good healer."

"Just you wait and see," Vyxara scoffed. "A few more weeks and you'll be best friends."

"Excellent work, both of you," grumbled Master Wilford, who had entered unnoticed. "Precise amputation, clean Essence patterns. And above all – you've finally stopped arguing and concentrated on the patient." He eyed them sharply. "I always expect that to be the case in the future."

Valentina and Hazel exchanged a look. Maybe it wasn't peace yet, but at least it was a truce.

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