When Valentina arrived at the dining room the next morning, students stood in small groups, their heads together, nervously whispering.

"Val!" Crispin rushed towards her, his face pale with excitement. "They've found it!"

"What do you mean?" Valentina forced herself to calm down as her heart skipped a beat. What had happened now?

"Do you remember the break-in in the Essence storage last year, when we all thought nothing was stolen?" His voice almost cracked. "Well, something was stolen! When the Illuminator ordered an inventory to be taken, several vials literally disappeared before their eyes, they were just illusions!"

"Well, that was to be expected," Vyxara purred in her head. "No pattern lasts forever."

"How much was stolen?" asked Valentina, trying to keep her voice neutral.

"Twenty vials they say!" hissed Edgar, who joined them. "Highly concentrated Distilled Essence. A fortune!"

At that moment, the conversations fell silent. Illuminator Eastwald had stepped into the dining room flanked by two Emberwardens.

"Students," his voice cut through the silence like a knife. "The Martyr has sent us a sign."

He walked slowly through the hall, his gaze gliding over the assembled faces. "This morning it was discovered that a large number of highly concentrated Distilled Essence vials were stolen from the university basement. Stolen a year ago! For a year, no one noticed the theft. For a year, an illusion fooled guards, faculty and leadership of this university."

His voice dripped with contempt. "The incompetence is frightening. But what is even more frightening – the sophistication of the theft. Only a rogue Essence Weaver of considerable skill could have created such an illusion. Probably in league with demons! And I believe he is still hiding among us."

He paused meaningfully. "The forces of hell are at work in this cesspool of sin called a university. They are stealing our Essence, corrupting our youth, poisoning our faith. And the university is blind to it!"

Eastwald's eyes glittered dangerously. "That's going to change. I've already written to Vandercourt. The Illumination will be sending their best Essence Weavers. Experts in detecting corruption and suspicious patterns. They will search every corner of this university, scrutinize every student, every professor."

Valentina felt dread rise in her. Essence Weavers of the Illumination – these were no ordinary scholars. They were trained fanatics.

"Security measures are being tightened with immediate effect," Eastwald announced. "Every vial of Distilled Essence will be checked. Room searches will be doubled. Emberwarden patrols will be stepped up."

He paused dramatically. "And anyone – ANYONE – who observes suspicious activity is obliged to report it immediately."

"Stay calm," warned Vyxara. "You've hidden everything well and far away. They won't find anything."

Valentina nodded imperceptibly. The rest of the stolen vials were safely buried in the forest, along with the forbidden books. No one would find them there.

"Does he think one of us is the thief?" whispered a first-year student at the next table.

"Or maybe a demon has crept in!" his neighbor hissed. "My cousin said that last week in Millbrook..."

"Quiet!" Eastwald thundered. "Go to your lectures. And remember – the Martyr sees everything. Even your most secret sins."

The students streamed out of the dining hall, their steps hurried, their voices muffled. Valentina stayed behind with Innogen and Crispin.

"This is going to be bad," Innogen muttered. "Eastwald is obsessed with hunting demons. Last week he interrogated Martha for three hours just because she was gathering herbs after sunset."

Crispin nodded somberly. "He got Elara out of bed yesterday. In the middle of the night! Just because someone said she was drawing strange patterns in her notebook. And it wasn't even for Essence Weaving, but a knitting pattern for a scarf."

"What happened to her?" asked Valentina.

"She came back this morning. Completely distraught. She didn't want to talk about it, but her hands..." He broke off and swallowed hard.

Innogen put her hand on Valentina's arm. "Be careful, Val. The Illuminator has his eye on you. Your victory in the Greystone Competition last year, your connections to the duke..."

"I know." Valentina forced herself to smile. "Don't worry. I'll be careful."

They left the hall together. Outside, marched Emberwardens through the corridors in groups of two, their boots echoing on the stone tiles.

"There are already so many of them, if they really tighten the controls any further, the next patrol will always see the butts of the last patrol," Vyxara said mockingly.

Valentina nodded imperceptibly as she walked to the next lecture with her friends. She was well prepared. But the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach remained.

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~

A week later, Valentina was just about to answer Professor Whitehall's question about the difficult interactions between Leb-Essence and fever when the door flew open with a crash. The heavy wood slammed against the stone wall, the bang making the students flinch.

An Emberwarden stormed in, his burgundy robes soaked from the rain. Ignoring Professor Whitehall, who broke off in mid-sentence, he stomped through the rows straight towards Valentina's seat.

"Valentina of Palewood," he thundered as he leaned over her menacingly. "The Illuminator demands your immediate presence."

Professor Whitehall's face briefly showed concern before she put her professional mask back on. The Emberwarden grabbed Valentina roughly by the arm and pulled her to her feet, her notes falling to the floor.

"Stay calm," whispered Vyxara. "He's just trying to scare you."

The corridors were empty as the Emberwarden led her to the interrogation room. Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls. The sweet smell of incense grew stronger the closer they got to the former auditorium.

This time she was not kept waiting, but immediately led in. Illuminator Eastwald was already standing at the window, his hands clasped behind his back. Two more Emberwardens flanked the dreaded chair with its metal shackles.

"Ah, Valentina." Eastwald turned around. His gaunt form was backlit by the dull daylight. "While you were in lecture, my Essence Weavers searched your room."

Valentina felt the blood freeze in her veins. But she forced herself to calm down.

"They found an interesting warding pattern on your door," Eastwald continued. "Very clever. It took one of my best Essence Weavers almost an hour to remove it." He lifted up a bundle of lavender grey silk. "And they found this."

Valentina recognized the nightgown immediately – a gift from the duke. Too elegant, too seductive for a simple student.

"An astonishingly... daring garment for a pious farmer's daughter," Eastwald remarked in a cutting voice. "It was a gift from the duke, wasn't it?"

"Careful ," warned Vyxara. "But not too defensive. Turn the tables."

"I bought it with my own money," Valentina said calmly. "In the privacy of my bedroom, I wear what I like." She lifted her chin slightly. "I doubt the Martyr would approve of men of the church rummaging around in a virgin's underwear."

A barely noticeable blush rose in Eastwald's gaunt cheeks. He hastily threw the nightgown aside.

"Sit down," he barked. The Emberwardens stepped forward to restrain her, but Eastwald raised his hand. "That won't be necessary today."

Valentina took a seat while Eastwald placed the familiar medallion necklace on the table in front of her.

"Why did you protect your room, Valentina? What did you have to hide?"

"Play his game ," suggested Vyxara. "This university is a den of sin and debauchery."

"After the incident with Professor Horne..." Valentina hesitated deliberately. "You know, Illuminator, I... felt vulnerable. Then that thief sneaking around the university at night, the general immorality..." She lowered her eyes. "I didn't feel safe anymore."

"Ah." Eastwald sat down opposite her. "An understandable concern for a young woman. But why such a complex pattern? It goes far beyond basic protection."

"I like experimenting with patterns," Valentina said simply. "It was a challenge to apply the complicated theoretical concepts from Professor Veilford's lectures in practice."

Eastwald took the medallion necklace and placed it over her folded hands. "Your clothes are of the most exquisite quality. Your Essence supplies seem... generous. You are a farmer's daughter? Where does this new wealth come from?"

"The duke was very generous," Valentina replied calmly. "He wants me to be able to concentrate fully on my studies."

"And what does he want in return?"

"Good grades. Regular reports on my progress." She held his gaze. "And that I represent the name of House Greystone with dignity."

The medallion remained silent. Eastwald drummed his fingers on the table.

"You are a remarkable young woman, Valentina of Palewood," he finally said. "Undoubtedly talented, the warding pattern alone shows that, if I can believe my Essence Weavers. And then this steep rise. From peasant girl to protégée of a duke." He leaned forward. "But sometimes a quick rise leads to a deep fall. Damnation awaits those who do not know their place, who want more than they are entitled to according to the natural order."

"I trust in the Martyr," Valentina replied humbly. "He will keep me on the right path."

"The Martyr." Eastwald smiled thinly. "Yes, he sees everything." He rose abruptly. "You can go. For now."

The threat in his last words was unmistakable. Valentina stood up, curtsied formally and left the room with measured steps.

It was only in her room that she was able to catch her breath. Her legs gave way and she sank onto her narrow bed, trembling.

"You did very well," Vyxara said gently. "But he won't give up. He senses that you have secrets – even if he can't prove them and doesn't know what they are."

"What does he want?" whispered Valentina.

"Power ," the demon replied thoughtfully. "Control. He sees you as a threat to his authority. A student who is beyond his control, who has connections he can't touch... And if he manages to get something out of you, that might give him something he can use against the duke. It's also a political game."

"Cosimo protects me," murmured Valentina.

"Yet," warned Vyxara.

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