The Soul Reborn: From Silence to Sovereignty Chapter 69

Chapter 69: Foundations and Expectations

It had been about a week since I broke down in front of Livia and confessed all my anxieties that had been weighing down on me. In response, she moved mountains to ensure I felt safe again.

She had badgered, pressured, and out-researched every noblewoman’s birthing circle in the North.

On a crisp and quiet morning, I found myself seated at the edge of a sun-warmed couch, robe loosened over my belly, while a very old, serious-looking man studied me from behind half-moon spectacles.

“Archduchess,” he said, setting aside a worn leather bag, “you’re in excellent health from what I can see. The child also has a strong heartbeat with no irregular swelling. Your posture, breathing, and temperature are all as they should be.”

I exhaled deeply.

It wasn’t just one breath, but a month’s worth of silent dread leaving my body. With confirmation that Lyra was alright, I could continue on with my pregnancy without worry, at least for now.

“Then everything’s alright?” I asked softly.

He looked up, eyes warm but clinical. “Honestly, you’re as fine a case as I’ve seen in years.”

I nodded at his words, feeling much better about everything.

My eyes then fixed on his with a stare that had meaning.

“I’ll pay you ten times your usual salary,” I said plainly. “But you must stay close at all times. I want you no more than a few minutes away from me at any given time starting next month.”

He blinked in obvious surprise.

“I’m not asking,” I added gently, but at the same time this was mine and my daughter’s life at stake. The fear of dying during childbirth was real because I’ve read about it so many times in books.

To his credit, he didn’t flinch at my words. He simply straightened and gave a small, respectful nod. “I would be honored, Your Grace.”

“I want a properly prepared room, all your tools, and a backup team of trusted midwives.”

“You’ll have them.”

“Good.” Having this all taken care of was a very relieving feeling. I don’t know how I could have gone this long without taking some real precaution.

Later that day, I found out Noah had also spoken to the doctor rather aggressively.

Livia had come running as soon as she found out; of course, her smirk was barely concealed.

“Apparently after you met with him,” she said casually over tea, “the Archduke summoned him into his office.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So… what did he say?”

“He offered him twenty times the pay as long as everything goes well.”

I nearly choked.

“The Archduke reminded him that if anything happened to you, he’d personally retire the man into a hole barely big enough to bury a wine barrel.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t a small, polite giggle, but a full, loud burst of laughter that had me holding my belly as the baby kicked in excitement.

When I saw Noah later that evening, I practically pounced on him. He caught me gently, making sure I was steady and that the baby wouldn’t be harmed by the impact.

“You bribed the doctor and threatened him?” I grinned, arms crossed. “Which one do you think worked better?”

He gave me that usually soft look he always wore when around me and no one else.

“I gave him an incentive,” he said, deadpan.

“With fear,” I giggled.

“Motivation,” he corrected. “One way or another, he’ll do the job perfectly.”

I shook my head, amused and full of affection for this man.

“I love you,” I said like an exclamation point.

He stepped in, leaned down, and kissed my temple.

“I love you too,” he murmured.

If this wasn’t the most Noah thing he could do, I don’t know what was.

In the evening, after the firelight settled low and my body allowed me a few hours of peace, I had Livia summon Lady Elowen Vance.

She arrived swiftly, dressed in refined simplicity. No flashy jewelry, no flowing gowns. Just enough elegance to show she belonged in the room, but never so much as to suggest she ruled it.

Her beautiful flowing blonde hair and those very similar emerald eyes were comparable to my own shade of green.

Good, this was the girl I’ve been most impressed with. I hope she continues to portray herself in such a way.

I remained seated, hands folded over the gentle curve of my stomach, as Livia stood silently behind me, watching.

“Elowen,” I said evenly, “your words at the banquet were… memorable.”

She bowed slightly. “I only spoke what I believed, Your Grace.”

“Yes,” I replied with a nod. “If you want to step up and support me, I’m willing to give you a chance.”

Her eyes darted up at that, brows raising just enough to show she understood a shift that had occurred.

“If you truly want to support what I’m building,” I continued. “Then it won’t be from the safety of polite words and well-spoken speeches.”

I gestured towards Livia.

“You will work with my precious person, under her for now.”

Elowen blinked. “I… I see.”

“No,” I said smoothly, “not quite yet, but you will.”

I leaned forward slightly, my voice quiet but firm.

"Livia is my right hand and closest confidante after Noah. No one stands above her. Not even the Archduke gives her orders. If you want a place in my inner circle, you will serve under her. Watch how she moves, learn from her, and take on the tasks that ease her burden. Prove your worth, and one day you may stand beside her."

After my words there was some silence. I looked slightly behind me at Livia, who has a bashful face; she looked so cute. When I smiled at her, she turned away.

Then Elowen dropped to one knee, head bowed.

“I would be honored, Archduchess.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Even if it means she orders you around?”

“She’s proven herself worthy of that right. I haven’t yet, but I’m ready to earn your trust, both of yours.”

Behind me, Livia let out the softest breath, somewhere between a sigh and amusement.

“Well said,” I murmured. “We’ll start slow, and Livia will guide you. You’ll observe the schooling progress, handle inquiries, help organize the teaching materials, and prepare the letters we’ll soon be sending.”

I tilt my head.

“If you prove yourself, you stay. If not…”

“You won’t need to dismiss me,” Elowen said quickly. “I’ll walk out myself.”

Livia, after staying quiet, finally spoke.

“Then we begin at sunrise.”

Elowen looked up, her eyes brighter and spine straighter. “Yes!”

The next morning, I insisted on walking to the school. Well… more like waddling was more accurate.

Livia didn’t argue. She simply appeared beside me with that unspoken calm of hers and offered an arm without a word. I leaned into her heavily, grateful for her sturdiness.

Noah was off again, doing what he did best: making the North stronger, rallying captains, reinforcing roads, and ensuring every soldier knew what was coming.

I had Livia by my side instead of Noah today, and I didn’t mind. It came with its own advantages.

 “Thank you,” I whispered as we reached the main path to the school after a short carriage ride.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Livia said. “But I’ll take it anyway.”

I smiled faintly, pressing a little more weight onto her arm.

She’s such a sweet girl, I thought, watching her stoic face from the corner of my eye. Even if she’s blunt enough to kick someone’s ego off a cliff.

Elowen followed a few steps back, not really speaking unless spoken to; her eyes scanned everything. My pace, the way Livia subtly adjusted her steps to keep me balanced, the guards posted near the gates, and the towering shape of the school that was coming together nicely.

I hope her attitude continues.

The school itself was massive, its structure nearly completed.

Stonework gleamed in the late morning sun, fresh and proud. Arched windows framed the halls, each etched with symbols of knowledge, wisdom, and progress. Wide doors stood ready to open. Courtyards waited to be filled with students too curious to sit still.

Inside, the scent of new wood and clean plaster greeted me.

The professors were waiting for me, sharp-eyed and eager; proud of the work they’d taken part in building.

They’d chosen their rooms according to their tastes.

Emerus, the arithmetician, claimed the largest classroom near the entrance. “Math will be the gateway,” he told me confidently. “Everyone needs numbers.”

Berthon took the room nearest the library. “History must be framed by access to books.”

The young doctor, Edmund, had claimed the eastern wing. “I’ll need light for my diagrams; anatomy is better learned in full view.”

Quiet as ever, Alaric, who still muttered theology under his breath from time to time, chose a mid-sized room with excellent acoustics “for discussion and debates.”

The last one who got generously reformed by Bors took whatever was left, but considering we still have many classrooms, I’m sure he found something to his liking. I just hope he understands his current position and the money that will be offered. So… don’t blow it!

Each classroom could hold over fifty students. It was spacious enough for group learning, yet still small enough for every student to be seen.

 “This school was built to shine,” I said aloud as we walked the halls. “Very soon, children will be filling these corridors, hoping to learn things they once could only imagine.”

Livia nodded. “You’ve done a great job; now it’s time to see it come to fruition.”

“Of course I did,” I huffed. “Can’t let the future show up and say we weren’t ready for it.”

Behind me, Elowen quietly added, “It’s beautiful, Archduchess. The atmosphere is incredible. I only wish I had the chance to study in a place like this.”

I looked back at her, watching as she took in the space with awe. It probably felt more like a cathedral than a school. Still, the grandeur might give the children even more motivation, hopefully.

As I kept my gaze on her, I truly wondered if she was one of mine now. It seemed to be the case, but I still couldn’t help but feel a bit wary around her. Of course I planned to give her a chance; I really hope she proves herself.

I leaned a bit harder on Livia and let myself enjoy the moment as we walked around the almost completed school.

After spending a few hours there, we stepped back out into the light. My feet ached and my back protested, but I felt lighter somehow.

Progress always had a way of doing that.

I looked around at the building once again. The grand arched windows, wide steps, and stone etched with promise. It was so easy to be proud of it all.

But pride didn’t stop me from seeing the cracks, and I just spotted one.

“Livia,” I said, glancing toward her as we walked, “we missed something.”

Her eyes flicked over to me. “What?”

“Reading and writing.” I said plainly. “We need basic literacy.”

She frowned. “The professors aren’t covering that?”

“No,” I muttered. “They’re too focused on specialized subjects. All of it assumes the student can already read, but what about the kids who’ve never even held a book?”

Livia nodded, thoughtful. “You’re right. The noble children will probably arrive knowing how to read, at least a little bit, but the rest would be out of luck…”

“They’ll be lost before they even start,” I said firmly. “I won’t have that.”

I stopped walking for a moment, catching my breath and gently resting a hand on my belly.

“This school is supposed to be for everyone, and if we don’t give them a strong foundation, they’ll never catch up to the rest.”

Livia straightened. “I’ll find someone, maybe a few people who can dedicate themselves to teaching basic literacy. Reading and writing are a must if the commoner children want to attend the school.”

“Good,” I said, nodding in agreement. “I want them humble, patient, and experienced. Not puffed-up nobles who think teaching letters is beneath them.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” she said.

“I know you will.”

Before long, this school will open with staff who can truly guide our children toward a much brighter future.