Chapter 44: The Water Goddess?

The news of what happened in the Well of Sorrows exploded throughout the kingdom.

Within forty-eight hours, the miracle created by the Alvarezs had bypassed the scorched trade routes and reached the hallways of the Capital, carried by breathless messengers and magical comm-stones alike.

In the tea rooms and smoking lounges of the high aristocracy, the golden couple of Alvarez was the only topic of conversation.

The mockery that had once followed Evelina’s name had vanished, replaced by a frenzied awe.

"Have you seen the reports?" a Baroness whispered behind a lace fan in the Imperial Conservatory, "They say she pulled a river out of the desert. And she... she even stood upon a mountain of iron."

"It’s not just the water," her companion replied, her voice trembling with envy, "It’s the way the Duke looks at her. The sketches being circulated by the traveling bards... it’s scandalous."

Indeed, the visual accounts of the event were doing more damage to the social hierarchy than the drought itself.

Sketches drawn by witnesses at the Well of Sorrows were being copied and sold on every street corner. In them, Evelina was depicted as a celestial figure, her hair damp and shimmering, standing atop a mechanical throne. But it was the man at the base of the machine who caused the most stir.

Ace Alvarez, the God of War, the man who had famously ignored every debutante in the Empire for a decade, was captured in ink looking upward at his wife.

They had said he barely liked his bride.

But his expression, as he looked at Evelina wasn’t one of a commander or a husband; he had puppy-dog eyes that radiated endless devotion. The Duke was absolutely whipped.

The reaction among the noblewomen of the Capital was nothing short of a silent riot.

"She was a pauper!" someone hissed, slamming a charcoal sketch onto her vanity, "A social pariah who spent her dowry on grain and rust! How is she now being heralded as the ’Water Goddess’?"

The fury was palpable.

For years, the ladies of the court had treated Evelina like a stain in the elite society and post her marriage, they treated her like a stain on the Alvarez lineage.

They had waited for Ace to finally discard her and choose one of their own ’pure’ daughters.

Instead, Evelina had not only saved the North, she had captured the heart of the most unattainable man in the kingdom while doing it.

The streets of the Capital were already beginning to chant her name. Commoners who had been starving days ago were now praying to small icons of a woman with a brass lever.

To the masses, she wasn’t a Duchess anymore; she was a savior sent by the heavens to fix the mistakes of a stagnant Council.

The once-mocked Alvarez estate was now the center of the kingdom. Every noble family that had rescinded a contract or laughed at her buyers was now frantically drafting letters of apology, offering their daughters as handmaidens or their sons as squires, just for the aura of the Alvarezs.

While the world burned with both heat and gossip, Selene Snow sat in her darkened drawing room, the curtains drawn tight to block out sickly-green sun.

Her family’s influence had withered along with the Southern rivers. The Snow estate, once a powerhouse of agricultural trade, was now a graveyard of dry silt.

Selene, who had always considered herself to be the one who possessed the grace and beauty Evelina lacked, looked down at a crumpled sketch in her lap.

It was the drawing of the well. In it, Ace’s hand was resting on the machine, his eyes fixed on Evelina with a heat that was undeniable.

A sharp pain twisted in Selene’s chest. Every drop of water that erupted from that well felt like a personal insult to her. Every cheer from the crowd for Evelina landed harder than a slap on her face.

"It should have been me," she whispered, her voice low and brittle.

Selene’s fingers tightened on the paper, her nails digging into the image of Evelina’s face. If she had been the bride of Ace, then all this glory, all this worship, and all of Ace’s devotion would have belonged to her.

Her expression shifted. The frantic jealousy died down, replaced by a calculative darkness.

"You think you’ve won, Evelina," Selene murmured, her voice turning dangerously smooth, "You think you can play at being a Goddess now?"

She stood up, walking toward a hidden desk in the corner of the room. She pulled out a sheet of lambskin and a seal that didn’t belong to her family, it was the seal of the Imperial radical faction, the ones who still believed Victor Thorne’s science was the work of the devil.

"But even Goddesses can be burned if people believe she is a witch," Selene whispered, "And the higher you climb, the more spectacular the fall."

She began to write, her hand steady and her heart turned to ice. If Selene couldn’t have the glory, then no one else, especially that imbecile sister of hers, would be allowed to keep it.

As Selene pressed her seal into the hot wax, the green sky outside flickered with a dry lightning, as if the heavens themselves were bracing for the next phase of the war.

The Water Goddess had brought life to the North, but in doing so, she had awoken a hunger in the Capital that no amount of subterranean water could satisfy.

Selene looked at the letter, a twisted smile finally touching her lips, "Let’s see how you handle a trial for high heresy, Evelina. I wonder if Ace will still look at you with such worship when you’re standing in the pyre."

...

[System Notification]

[New Antagonist Status: The Vengeful Sister]

[Warning: Political Instability Rising in the Capital]

[Current Favor: Ace (Error!), Public (92%), Aristocracy (-40%)]

Evelina frowned, covering her ears with the pillow, "Let me sleep... I’m so tired..."

[System: Host is being lazy]

’’Scram. I need some rest. I don’t have a third life to jump into if I lose this one because of my foolishness!" Evelina hissed.