The carriage rocked gently beneath us as we rolled along the cobbled road. It had been hours since we left the crumbling border of Korvale behind. I'd never been this far from the slums, let alone seen so much of the empire all at once.
The city didn't just change, but more like it transformed. We passed from grime and soot-stained alleys into clean stone paths, where the air smelled like baked bread and fruit rather than sweat and rot. The walls grew taller. The people wore silks instead of patched rags. Man even the horses looked noble with their polished hooves.
It was like watching the world stitch itself together, layer by layer, from ash to marble.
I stared out the window the entire time, trying not to let my jaw hang open. My reflection in the glass looked pale and hollow. My mind still struggled to believe any of this was real.
"You're quiet," Draven said beside me. "That a good thing or a bad one?"
"I didn't realize the world was this… big," I muttered.
He gave a grunt that might have been amusement. "You'll see more before the year's done."
I glanced at him. "Alright then, if you're adopting me into all this, how about you explain how this place actually works?"
He leaned back in his seat. "Fair question. What do you know about the world, Thorne?"
"Not much," I admitted. "Slums don't come with a history book."
Draven nodded. "There are three major nations across this continent. We ride within the borders of the War Nation - Khatral. Here, power rules all. Our laws, our values, even who wears our crown, all answer to strength. The strongest voice commands the throne. And right now, that's King Kaedor Rhask III."
"Let me guess," I said. "You're his strongest voice?"
"The king's right hand," he said plainly. "I command the High Army. The largest, deadliest force in the known world. And in a month, we have to stand before the king and the war council to ratify your adoption. Formally."
My eyebrows lifted. "That's a lot of trouble for someone like me."
Draven shrugged. "I've made greater messes for lesser causes."
"Comforting," I muttered.
"You'll be attending the Great Academy three months from now," he continued. "It's where the nobility train in politics, swordplay, battle strategy, and leadership. You'll need to learn their ways quickly. Speak their tongue. Play their games."
"So I get to pretend to be one of them while they pretend I belong."
"They won't pretend. They'll make sure you know exactly what you are."
I sighed. "Even better."
He gave a dry chuckle. "Learn fast, and you'll survive it. Learn well, and you might thrive. That's what my father had always taught me. Even so, you'll still live within my estate so no need to worry over dorming."
We talked more after that, about the structure of Khatral's military houses, the ranking of noble bloodlines, the sun being so bright out here. I asked questions where I could. Mostly, I listened.
And all the while, a quiet thought wormed into my head: If I study this well enough... if I learn how they think, how they move... I might find a way to get to the Religious Nation. Find her. Find him.
Knowledge was leverage. I would need to study every script I can of the religious nation.
The carriage slowed.
I looked forward, expecting a gate, maybe a tall house. Instead, what I saw made my jaw finally drop.
"What the hell," I breathed.
The Netheril Estate wasn't a home... it was a kingdom.
Three massive buildings stretched out before us, each distinct in architecture.
Gardens bloomed between the structures, not decorative ones, they looked lived-in. Useful. Maybe for medicinal herbs, flowering trees, shaded courtyards. And people were everywhere. Workers, guards, servants, all moving with smiles and a lively jumble. Like they belonged as a part of his family.
I stared at it all, completely agape.
"You need all this?" I asked, incredulous. "Three buildings? Gardens? An army of gardeners? You're just one old man."
Draven gave a bemused chuckle, warm and real.
"Wait until you see the library."