The salty breeze carried the scent of the sea through the bustling merchant district of Ronin Town, where harbor workers went about their usual routines. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the wooden piers. Among the workers, a young boy wiped sweat from his brow as he noticed something unusual.
"Whoa… did we have a large ship scheduled to arrive today?" he asked, nudging his co-worker.
The other boy, slightly older and more experienced, glanced toward the incoming vessel. "Not that I know of," he replied, scratching his head. "I remember the Merchant Association’s ships set sail for Jola just yesterday… could be one of them returning early. Well, doesn’t really matter. We’re getting paid either way."
The two boys straightened their backs, eyeing the incoming merchant ship with anticipation.
Unlike regular cargo shipments, which followed prearranged agreements, unexpected arrivals meant negotiations. Merchant ships that arrived unannounced often needed extra hands to unload their goods quickly, and that meant the workers could bargain for a higher wage than usual. It was a rare opportunity to earn more coin.
However, as the ship finally docked, something unexpected happened.
A wooden bridge was lowered onto the pier, but instead of crates and barrels being unloaded, rows of knights in polished armor marched down onto the harbor. A caravan of carriages followed, their black and gold embellishments shimmering under the midday sun.
The gathered workers, eager to strike a deal just moments ago, froze in place as their eyes locked onto a familiar sigil emblazoned on the lead carriage.
The imperial crest. Instantly, a wave of realization spread among the dockhands.
Without hesitation, everyone dropped to their knees in a show of respect. No one dared speak. No one dared move.
This was not a merchant vessel. This was an Imperial envoy.
As the last of the carriages rolled away, breaking the eerie silence, a low murmur arose from the workers left behind.
"I’d rather not negotiate wages with her ship," one boy muttered under his breath. His voice trembled slightly as he glanced at the remaining knights stationed on the deck of the anchored vessel.
"Why?" his companion whispered, eyes still fixed on the disappearing carriages.
The boy shuddered. "I heard… she cuts off fingers for dropping something in front of her." His companion swallowed hard, nodding in silent agreement. No one wanted to test that rumor.
Inside the grand halls of the Ronin Viscount’s Mansion, the air was thick with tension.
"What the hell do you mean, ‘Her Highness is coming to negotiate war reparations’?!" Jessica Ronin, slammed her hands onto the long table in front of her. Her piercing blue eyes burned with frustration as she glared at her father, Edward Ronin, who remained eerily calm despite the sudden crisis.
Edward adjusted his collar and met his daughter’s furious gaze with measured composure.
"Exactly that," he said in a low, even tone. "She has just arrived at the harbor and sent us an official notice. She will be here shortly."
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Jessica exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers against her temple as if trying to will away a headache.
"Damn it…" she cursed under her breath. "That moron Connor couldn’t even defeat 300 knights despite commanding a force of over 800?! He was supposed to teach her a lesson, not give her leverage over us!"
Edward didn’t react to her anger. His mind was already working through their limited options.
"This isn’t the time for pointless frustration," he said, voice steady. "We barely have enough time to prepare a proper response before she arrives. Focus, Jessica."
Jessica clenched her fists, trying to regain control of her thoughts.
"Fine," she muttered, forcing herself to think. "We need to establish negotiation terms before she dictates them. We must minimize what she can take from us. If we let her extort us bare, we won’t recover from this."
Edward nodded approvingly. "Precisely. The Raven of the Sun Palace doesn’t come for petty sums—she comes to take everything she can. We must be ready."
As Jessica bit her lip, already formulating a strategy, the sound of hoofbeats echoed from the streets outside.
Inside her luxurious black-and-gold carriage, Ravenna leaned against the window, her deep dark eyes glinting with amusement as she observed the Ronin Mansion growing larger in view.
"Not too shabby," she murmured to herself, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. "They must be filthy rich."
The mansion’s grand iron gates creaked open, allowing the Imperial carriages to roll into the courtyard, where rows of servants and knights stood stiffly in place. The moment the lead carriage came to a halt, Edward Ronin stepped forward, dressed in his finest noble attire.
With practiced grace, he extended a hand toward the carriage door, offering to escort his unexpected guest.
The door swung open, and Ravenna emerged.
She was adorned in a gown, crafted from fine, flowing silk in deep crimson, embroidered with golden accents. The dress was designed for both nobility and the sweltering heat of the northern province—a high slit ran along one side, revealing her toned leg with every step, while the low neckline balanced elegance with temptation. The fabric clung to her form just enough to hint at imperial arrogance, while the detached sleeves, draped loosely around her arms, gave her a carefree yet commanding presence.
Ravenna took Edward’s hand but didn’t let him guide her. Instead, she descended from the carriage with the poise of a predator stepping onto foreign territory.
Her lips curled into a mocking smile. "You have quite the manners, Lord Edward," she mused, her voice dripping with amusement. "For someone who tried to pull such an embarrassing stunt."
Edward, composed, bowed his head slightly. "We may not be efficient in warfare, Your Highness… but we do have our honor."
Ravenna scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Honor? Is that what you call it?"
With that, she stepped past him, leading the way inside the mansion without waiting for an invitation. Her knights, including Hughes, followed closely behind, their presence a silent reminder of her authority.
The grand halls of the Ronin Mansion were decorated with rich panels, golden chandeliers, and opulent rugs that muffled the sound of their footsteps. However, it was not the wealth that caught Ravenna’s attention—it was the portraits.
Along the towering walls, large oil paintings depicted generations of the Ronin family, each ancestor staring down with solemn expressions.
Ravenna smirked as she glanced at them. Would they be proud of their descendants now?
"So," she mused, glancing sideways at Edward as they ascended the main staircase toward his study, "was this entire debacle a family effort, or was it just a childish tantrum of an arrogant greenhorn?"
Edward, walking beside her, did not falter."I would say… a bit of both, Your Highness," he admitted smoothly.
Though his expression remained calm, Ravenna could feel the tension lurking beneath his noble fa?ade.
He knew that today, he was escorting a raven of death into the heart of his own home. And not just any raven—an unpredictable one.
Finally, they reached the study doors, which a butler swiftly pushed open.
Inside, standing in perfect posture, was Jessica Ronin.
She was dressed in a northern Ancorna noblewoman’s gown, suited for the region’s oppressive heat. The fabric was a light blend of silk and chiffon, dyed in shades of deep emerald green, accentuating her golden-blonde hair. The dress, though modest in design, featured a subtle slit along the side for ease of movement, and the off-shoulder cut left her collarbones exposed, balancing formality with allure.
The effect was simple yet undeniably regal.
Jessica’s piercing blue eyes met Ravenna’s deep dark ones, and for a fleeting moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension.
Then, Jessica bent her knee in a graceful curtsy and spoke in a clear, unwavering voice.
"Greetings, Your Highness."
