Chapter 76: The First Architect

"Preposterous!"

Williem's voice echoed across the garden as he slammed his hands on the table, his face flushed with disbelief. He stood abruptly, his eyes bloodshot, locking onto Lady Madeleine with a fierce intensity.

"That's impossible!"

I couldn't help but understand his shock. My mother's revelation could be interpreted as a direct affront to the Ice Flower Sect, whose first heir, Annabeth Nightingale, currently bore the revered title of the First Architect.

The First Architect was not just a title; it was an accolade bestowed by the collective decision of the five heads of the Floating Palisades. This honor was reserved for the most brilliant mind among them, judged by their achievements in arts, science, and the complex weave of magic theory. The prestige and political influence that came with the title were immense.

Annabeth Nightingale had been celebrated as the First Architect for two years now, her inauguration at the Palisade Academy drawing dignitaries from across the realms, including members of the House of Seraphim like my mother.

So why the doubt now?

A suspicion flickered in my mind.

Could my mother be suggesting there was foul play in the selection process?

Williem took a deep breath, attempting to calm his outrage.

"I apologize for my outburst, Lady Madeleine", he said, his tone softening.

"It is quite all right, Williem. Defending one's family is admirable.", Mother replied with grace, gesturing for him to sit, "Please, allow me to clarify my earlier statement."

He sat, his fingers nervously tapping against his cup before he met her gaze again.

Lady Madeleine, my mother, surveyed us both with a knowing look before continuing, "What I'm about to share is an open secret among the ruling elite of the Palisades."

She paused, her eyes lingering on Williem, "It might be seen as defamation to the Ice Flower Sect, but I trust in your discretion."

Williem nodded, his expression serious, "I understand."

"Good.", Mother took a sip of her tea, her gaze thoughtful, "Annabeth Nightingale is indeed the First Architect, inducted by the collective agreement of the houses."

I leaned forward, my curiosity piqued.

"However...", Mother continued, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "...this is only the narrative known to all but the heads of the houses. The truth is, Galter Droet was the one who met all the criteria for the title, arguably more than Annabeth. But when he was presented at the selection..."

She paused again, taking another sip of tea, her eyes never leaving ours.

"He declined."

The space fell silent, save for the distant fluttering of flowers. My heart skipped a beat, the shock almost palpable.

Williem nearly toppled his chair in disbelief, scrambling to regain his composure, "He declined the title? You mean to say a commoner refused to be the First Architect?"

Mother nodded, her face calm, "Yes, he did. It was bewildering, even to me."

"But why?", I blurted out, my mind racing with questions.

Mother smiled, a hint of admiration in her eyes.

"Initially, we suspected arrogance or perhaps some hidden agenda, but our observations suggested otherwise. There were whispers of him being part of some underground cult, but those were quickly dismissed."

"So, what was his real reason?" I pressed, my curiosity now bordering on obsession.

She chuckled softly, "Galter Droet is exceptionally astute. When we questioned him, he gave us two reasons: his safety and his freedom."

I pondered this, the implications settling in.

Safety for a commoner without backing was understandable, but freedom? That word resonated with me, hinting at the political entanglements one must navigate with such a title.

I glanced at my mother, the Gray Witch, the head of the House of Seraphim, always kind and nurturing, yet undeniably a player in this game of power.

With a sigh, I leaned back, the weight of politics heavy on my mind.

Mother placed her cup down with a soft clink, her gaze shifting to Williem, "Nightingale?"

Williem snapped out of his reverie, offering a strained smile. "I'm just... shocked. This is quite the revelation."

"Did Annabeth know about this?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Unless Aula informed her, she likely does not," Mother replied, her smile enigmatic.

"I see...", he nodded, deep in thought.

Williem seemed to agree with her but I wasn't having it.

"Wait...if Galter had the qualifications to be the First Architect and refused, why just let him go?", my eyes narrowed, locking in on her, "Obviously, you wouldn't just let him go, did you?"

Williem's head turned to me before turning to Mother, his eyes burned with the same question.

Mother's eyes widened slightly before slowly narrowing, "Ah...Marta you indeed are my child."

I have no fantasies about you all believing that he's so admirable, I know definitely that the position of the First Architect is merely a ruse for the heads to control the intellectuals.

After all, you can't have any of them plotting against the Palisades.

My eyes glinted.

And knowing mother...hell knowing the heads, they obviously won't just let him go.

Mother remained silent for a few moments and sighed before saying, "A few days after Galter declined the position, Lord Boetus reached out to him and opted to employ him as his lackey. Obviously, he didn't succeed on the first try but after a few more attempts, Galter caved."

Williem huffed, "Obviously...he's just a commoner must have broken under the pressure."

Mother chuckled, "That's what I assumed too, until I learned the details."

Williem and I narrowed our eyes, "What details?"

"It turned out that Lord Boetus had paid Galter Droet a hefty sum as remuneration and Galter only worked according to his own time."

Williem's face fell, "What?"

I gasped, "But that's extortion..."

"I know right, Galter had Lord Boetus hook, line, sinker.", she laughed before continuing, "But, Boetus believed that it was worth it though."

"...", Williem and I were silent.

Clapping her hands, Mother redirected the conversation, "Ah, anyways we've strayed from our original topic."

"Yes, the matter of Lord Boetus.", Williem acknowledged, his focus returning.

"How will you assist us?", I asked, eager to move forward.

With a flick of her wrist, Mother summoned a pristine white envelope, stamped with the Seraphim House's seal. She placed it on the table.

"Give this to Lord Boetus. It will secure an audience with him."

We exchanged a look, the envelope's significance not lost on us. Williem carefully tucked it away, bowing respectfully, "Thank you, Lady Madeleine. It was an honor."

"The pleasure is mine. Do convey my regards to your mother." she replied warmly, extending her hand.

As we prepared to leave, Mother's voice stopped me, "Marta, remember to uphold the Seraphim name with dignity. Don't let youth cloud your judgment."

I blushed slightly but responded with determination, "I understand, Mother. I will not dishonor our house."

With a final bow, Williem and I took our leave, my heart racing with the new knowledge and the tasks ahead. But not before I heard her gentle reminder,

"Lovely band, by the way."