Chapter 11: Preparations

The evening before her departure to Lord Cassian's household, Lysandra sat at her small writing desk, carefully folding her meager possessions into a worn leather satchel.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, already knowing who it was.

Saren slipped through the door, closing it silently behind her. Her friend carried a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

"I brought you some bread and cheese," Saren said, placing the bundle on the bed. "Cook was generous tonight, knows we're leaving tomorrow." She glanced around at Lysandra's sparse packing. "Is that all you're bringing?"

Lysandra offered a small smile. "What else do I need? We're servants, Saren. Our possessions are meant to fit in a single bag."

"For now," Saren replied, settling beside the bundle on the bed. "Though I suspect your ambitions require a bit more luggage."

A small laugh escaped Lysandra's lips. "I'd settle for better quarters. And at least at Cassian's, we won't have Maeve breathing down our necks."

Saren's expression turned serious. "Are you sure about this, Lysandra? Leaving with only Theron's unstable blessing and Ravenna's mysterious interest? We could slip away during the night, find work in another province..."

"And spend our lives looking over our shoulders?" Lysandra shook her head. "No. Forward is the only path that makes sense." She turned fully toward her friend. "But I need to know, are you certain you want to follow me? This path I'm taking... I can't promise where it leads."

Saren's eyes, warm but knowing, held Lysandra's gaze. "Where else would I go? You're the only family I have left. Besides," she added with a hint of her usual dry humor, "someone needs to remind you of your humanity when you're surrounded by all that power."

Lysandra crossed the room and took Saren's hands in hers. "I promise you, I won't forget where I came from. Who I am."

"See that you don't," Saren said, squeezing her hands. "Now, have you prepared for tomorrow? Cassian will expect a capable secretary, not just a pretty face that caught Theron's eye."

"I've reviewed all of Theron's correspondence with him, memorized his trade partners and business interests. I know more about Cassian's financial dealings than his own accountant, I'd wager." Lysandra smiled confidently. "He'll find me indispensable within a week."

"And Theron? What happens when we return on Sunday? His obsession grows stronger, Lys. I see it in the way he watches for you."

Lysandra's expression darkened. "I'll manage him. Each visit will be carefully orchestrated, reports detailed enough to satisfy his business interests, my manner respectful enough to maintain his... fascination... without inflaming it further."

"And if it's not enough?" Saren's voice was quiet.

"It will be," Lysandra insisted, more firmly than she felt. "Remember, we're playing a longer game. Cassian is merely a stepping stone."

A comfortable silence fell between them as they shared the bread and cheese, the last quiet moment before stepping into the unknown. Finally, Lysandra spoke again.

"What did Ravenna say to you today? I saw her summon you to her chambers."

Saren's expression turned guarded. "She... wanted to ensure I understood my duties as your attendant. Said I should observe everything in Cassian's household and report back."

"To her?" Lysandra's voice sharpened.

"She didn't specify. But the implication was clear." Saren fidgeted with a loose thread on her sleeve. "She knows more than she should, Lys. About you, about your... abilities. She mentioned that you have a unique talent for making men see things your way."

Lysandra inhaled sharply. "And what did you tell her?"

"That you have always been perceptive about people's desires. That it's what makes you valuable as a secretary." Saren met her gaze steadily. "I gave her nothing, Lys. But she's dangerous, more so because she plays such a long, patient game. Unlike Theron's obvious obsession, her interest is calculated."

"Which makes her a more valuable ally, or a more dangerous enemy." Lysandra rose, pacing the small room. "I'll need to tread carefully. Keep her satisfied with small pieces of information while revealing nothing of consequence."

"Just be careful. Whatever game Ravenna is playing, I doubt it ends well for pawns."

Lysandra paused by the window, looking out at the moonlit gardens below. "We won't be pawns, Saren. I promise you that."

The moon hung heavy in the night sky, reminding her of Velmira's presence. Since that first night, the goddess had appeared less frequently in her dreams, as though having set events in motion, she was content to watch from a distance. Still, Lysandra often felt her presence, a prickling awareness at the back of her neck, a whisper just beyond hearing. A reminder that her power came with purpose, though that purpose remained frustratingly unclear.

"We should rest," Lysandra said finally. "Tomorrow begins our new chapter."

As Saren rose to leave, she hesitated at the door. "Whatever happens, Lys... don't lose yourself in all of this. The power, the plotting, remember why we started."

"To never be powerless again," Lysandra replied softly.

"Yes. But also to be worthy of the power we gain." With that, Saren slipped away, leaving Lysandra alone with her thoughts and the weight of tomorrow's possibilities.