CH526 · Rewrite
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Chapter 526: The Alchemist Workshop

The Refining Hall in the eastern quarter of the city was where Retnin preferred to think.

It was a place of permanent motion: students and apprentices shuttling materials back and forth, steam rising from a dozen vessels, the persistent undertone of sulfur and acid water, the occasional crash of broken glass punctuated by a senior alchemist’s shout. Even now that Retnin held one of the three chief alchemist positions — a post that entitled him to his own private workroom — he found himself returning here to work. The Refining Hall was where alchemy actually happened. His workroom was where he wrote things down afterward.

It was the mixing that he loved. The fact that grayish sand and black charcoal could be coaxed, under the right conditions, into something no one had imagined before — crystal glass, snow powder, a dozen lesser things — this had not stopped being remarkable in thirty-four years of practice. The same held for people. The Workshop accepted many apprentices each year. Very few of them became alchemists of any distinction. Retnin was one of those few, and he was nearly fifty, and he was content with his life in the way that men are content when they have understood what they were actually built to do.

What had disquieted him recently was the city itself.

The transfer of power from Timothy to Prince Roland had been swift and total. Under ordinary circumstances, this would be a political matter with no particular implications for the Workshop — alchemical production served whoever held the throne. But Retnin was not certain the ordinary circumstances applied. The Workshop had supplied snow powder to Timothy’s forces. That was hard to argue around.

And the prince had gone to the Astrological Station first, rather than here.

“Still brooding over the Astrology Association?” Another voice settled beside him. He looked up: Rayleigh, silver-haired and carelessly dressed, had taken the next bench. “You’ve been sitting here doing nothing for ten minutes.”

“I’m thinking about what the prince is planning.”

“He’s thinking those star-gazers are a waste of money. What else could he be thinking?” Rayleigh waved a dismissive hand. “Though it’s a pity he didn’t follow through on shutting them down. Those people shouldn’t have been crowned sages to begin with.”

The Workshop maintained contacts in the Astrological Association — it was prudent to keep tabs on the only other institution in King’s City that competed for royal patronage. They knew, in rough terms, the nature of Roland’s visit to the Station. What they did not know was what the Chief Astrologer had said privately that had changed Roland’s mind about closing the place.

“Are you worried he’ll shut us down instead?”

Rayleigh clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t forget what we produce. Once the limits on crystal glass and perfume are lifted, the gold royals we could generate would fill the prince’s bedroom. No one with any commercial sense shuts down an operation like this.”

“We produced snow powder for Timothy.”

“Under royal command. Could we have refused?” Rayleigh grunted. “Any reasonable person knows we weren’t choosing sides — we were following orders. And frankly, given that the prince manufactured his own snow powder in the Western Region and got his formula from somewhere, we may have inadvertently contributed to his victory. He might even reward us for surrendering the advanced formula.”

Retnin nodded slowly, feeling marginally more settled. The Workshop was the kingdom’s primary revenue-generating research institution. The prince was a practical man, by all accounts. He would see the value—

“M-Mr. Chief Alchemist!” A student burst into the hall, breathless. “His Majesty is here!”

“What? Where?”

The hall went silent. Everyone stared at the student.

“Above the yard. In the air.” The student swallowed. “He descended from the sky.”


The hydrogen balloon covered nearly half the sky above the workshop’s courtyard. Soldiers armed with snow powder weapons had sealed the perimeter; they moved through the building in a methodical sweep before the balloon was allowed to descend.

“That’s the device he used to visit the Astrological Station,” Rayleigh murmured against Retnin’s ear. “I didn’t believe it could actually lift a person.”

“He’s here now,” Retnin said, gripping Rayleigh’s shoulder. “Whatever you call him in private, in an official setting he is the King of Graycastle, coronation or not. Act accordingly.”

“I always know how to behave.”

“I am not confident of that.”

The basket settled and Roland stepped out — a gray-haired man moving without ceremony, no crown, no scepter, no particular splendor, yet carrying himself in a way that filled the courtyard. Beside him was an elderly man in a cope whom Retnin found, with faint unease, vaguely familiar.

The three chief alchemists bowed, the rest of the Workshop following in a ripple.

Roland smiled pleasantly. “My father often spoke of you. He used to say that your crystal glass and perfume were sold as far as the Fjord Islands, and that they brought fine profits to the palace.” He paused. “So when he sent me to Border Town, I built an alchemical workshop of my own.”

Rayleigh choked on something. Retnin kept his expression neutral through an act of conscious effort.

“It must have been a considerable undertaking, Your Majesty,” Retnin offered. “Every proper workshop requires substantial capital.”

“That’s what’s puzzling me.” Roland’s tone remained light and conversational. “I didn’t invest much at all. Border Town was resource-poor — I started in a few wooden sheds. But now I produce glass, perfume, and several other products. So I find myself wondering where all those gold royals actually went.”

The temperature in the courtyard dropped.

“Your Majesty, I’m not certain I—” Retnin’s voice died.

“This is my Chief Alchemist, Mr. Kyle Sichi.” Roland gestured to the elderly man beside him. “He will be evaluating your work. If the Workshop has produced no meaningful innovations recently, I may need to redirect those resources toward reconstruction. King’s City took considerable damage, as I’m sure you know.”

The assembled alchemists reacted as one body. The sound was something between outrage and wounded dignity.

“Your Majesty, this is unacceptable.” Rayleigh had already surged forward. He was not, Retnin reflected in despair, the sort of man who had ever learned to let an insult pass.

Roland turned to him. “Oh? Why?”

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