Michael

"Thank you for this, Lord Telp," Michael said as he looked over the list of names Lord Telp and his wife had provided.

"I am no longer landed nobility, milord. Please just call me Sygnus," the former viscount waved him off. He was appearing much more at ease in the last few days as the burden of rule had been taken off his back. Michael suspected that the man had felt guilty for a long time to leave the whole work with his wife and son while he was working for his liege.

"Very well, but then I insist you call me Michael like you did when I was younger. At least while not at any official functions," Michael retorted.

It took some convincing, but in the end, Sygnus yielded to Michael's command.

Michael frowned as he reached the end of the list and looked over to Patricia Telp. "I don't see your name on here? I heard that you did a great job administering your houses' fiefs even without your husband's authority nearby. Are you not interested in a position as magistrate?"

Patricia was a tall and thin woman. Her brown hair was bound into a bun tightly, which quite nicely mirrored her personality from the few times Michael had met her. She was a guarded person and rarely showed emotion overtly.

"I am a woman, milord. I am not fit for such a position," she explained calmly.

Michael scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "I couldn't care any less. I need people who will do their job right. You implemented many of the reforms I ordered, even with insufficient support due to the fragile political situation in this county and the constant interference of the local nobility. I would be a fool not to attempt to retain your service."

That made Patricia hesitate for a moment while Sygnus simply sat next to her with a smile that screamed: I told you so.

"It is an honor that you place such high regard on my abilities, my liege, but I have been separated from my husband for most of two decades now, caring for his fief while he advised your lord father and you. I do not wish to insult you, but I won't suffer a day more away from him than I have to," she explained matter-of-factly.

They had such a different relationship than Michael had ever seen. They weren't prone to grand displays of affection. Hellss, Michael had never seen them kiss or even hug, but in this moment, he realized that they loved each other no less than any other couple he had ever seen, probably the contrary.

He had just assumed that they were some kind of political marriage, like they were so common between nobles, from their way of interacting with each other and the fact that they lived so far away for most of his time alive. Only now did he understand the sacrifices they had made for his family and the people of Reen and Emall.

"Of course. I do not plan to keep you apart any further. If you wish it, I am sure we can find a position for you in Reen, but please be aware that I will not hold it against you if you want to put the work behind you," Michael offered, hoping she would accept.

It wasn't only that she seemed competent from what he had heard and the reports he had gotten, but also a glowing sign that he didn't care about genders any more than he did about status. He would need any competent person he could get his hands on, and if half his population didn't even try because they thought only men were eligible, then he would have failed at the first step.

Patricia stayed silent while considering his words. She looked like she was deciding something mundane, like between chicken or pork for dinner, with a perfectly ladylike expression, which made Michael smile slightly.

"Managing my husband's duties in his absence was the most frustrating thing I have ever experienced. It has also been very fulfilling seeing plans turn into reality against all adversities. I think I would miss it if I returned to solely my wifely duties. Yes, I think I am interested in working alongside my husband if that is possible," she finally concluded.

Michael nodded, "I think we can make that work, milady."

- Days later -

Another day working late. He had had many of them since coming to Emall. There were a lot of people to place in power, and many more to be relieved of theirs. Cleaning up the problems that the local nobility had ignored for years alone would take months if not years.

Michael, of course, wouldn't be able to stay that long, but he had refused any suggestion to return to Reen and coordinate things from there. A ruler needed to be present in newly acquired lands to react to any situation until he had firmed his hold on the region and placed trusted proxies in place to rule in his stead.

Emall wasn't doing well, but it wasn't as bad as Michael had feared, at least not everywhere. While many members of the noble faction belonged squarely in the category of tyrannical bastards, not all of them were incompetent or even evil rulers. They had simply decided to oppose his reforms in their entirety as some kind of resistance against the increasing centralization of power.

Michael had still decided to decrease the tax burden on Emall. The land needed to grow and prosper soon to catch up to its eastern sibling. The merchants needed money to get the needed supplies into the country, the farmers to buy or lease lands that Michael now held, and he also hoped that many of the slowly freed serfs would take up crafts to increase the economic power of the county.

He hoped for the emergence of a big woodcutting and processing industry, but he didn't plan to force this. People would do what worked best for them, and he was sure that as long as he provided them with the infrastructure, they could make something worthwhile. He did plan to build some lumber operations himself, though. It didn't hurt to nudge them in the right direction.

A soft knock drew his attention away from a list of possible craftsmen he was planning to put in charge of his new operations here.

Lynx was standing in the middle of the room, his fist hovering a few centimeters over another table filled with more documents. As always, Michael had no idea how the Faceless had gotten in here without him noticing him, and, to be honest, he didn't even care anymore.

"Lynx, thank you for coming," Michael greeted the grandmaster of the Officio Umbra with a friendly smile.

The masked man bowed his head in response and moved in front of his table. "You call and I answer."

"I wish we could have talked earlier, but things have been quite hectic for both of us lately," Michael said.

"It has been interesting," Lynx agreed. "Great training for my students."

"That is nice to hear," Michael replied sarcastically, but then added more genuinely, "How did they do?"

"Adequately. There is a lot to improve, but little to complain about."

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"That's good, that's good."

They fell silent for a moment while Michael was still considering what to do. The officio's standing order had been to keep an eye on the nobles and gather evidence of any wrongdoing. Michael still had a pile of stuff on the still ruling nobles as well, but nothing that called him to act right now. That still left the question of what to do with the officio now.

The reasonable thing to do would be to order them to keep an eye on his political enemies in the kingdom and across the borders, now that his internal influence was hard to attack. Duke Wulfen had supported his rebellious subjects, of this Michael was pretty sure, and Archbishop Patheros probably held a grudge against Michael from his refusal to accept his deal, not to mention his refusal to adhere to church dogma.

He probably had other enemies as well, which he didn't even know about.

Another matter weighed on Michael's soul, though, a matter he had pushed down due to the immediate problems bombarding him from all directions.

"I have a new task for you, Lynx. You can decide if you want to involve your students in this, but I want you to personally investigate this," Michael started and reached for a sketch that was nearly two years old.

It showed a man with a broad but unremarkable face, but a quite striking scar over one of his eyes.

"This is the man that you saw receive that stack of letters two years ago," Michael said. "It is presumably the same man who tried to kill me in the capital shortly after, and also the one you fought in the Rangda woods, correct?"

Lynx nodded, "I can say with a high certainty that it was the same man."

"I need you to find him and whoever is hiring the man. I want to know every employer he has had in the last five years and everything he has done."

Lynx inspected Michael for a long time. Michael didn't say anything more and simply stared back until the faceless nodded.

"I will find him," he said.

"Good, and if you catch him, I want you to bring him to me alive if possible."

"As you wish."

Zen

Weeks in the saddle or in shaking carriages were finally over. Every muscle in Zen's body hurt as he fell into the chair at the head of his council table. His pilgrimage to the holy place of Idas' vow of vengeance, together with his fiancée, was an enlightening but very much arduous experience for the young king.

What I need now is a week or two to relax, bathe often, and sleep, he thought as he waited for his council to take their seats. It wasn't a full council, with Duke Greeich off somewhere, but his position was Zen's mentor, so it made sense that he had returned home when his ward was gone for over a month.

"Alright, let me have it. What has been happening in my realm in my absence?" he asked and tried to make himself comfortable for what was sure to be a long meeting.

Lord Wulfen cleared his throat and grabbed a thick scroll. Zen sighed internally but did his best to appear attentive and interested as the duke started talking.

"I am sure this will interest you the most, so I will start with it," he said and managed to invoke some curiosity in Zen. "The Rangda tribes have united to wage war against Count Duncan Grim to the south, shortly after you left. Lord Rowan went to support his uncle, as did Duke Wallsten. Duke Greeich and Count Mandale were also on their way to help, but didn't make it in time. Together, they managed to catch the barbarians unaware and struck a critical blow before the conflict could even reach Telios' territories. The clans have pulled back since. I suggest that commendations be made for all those involved and a festival to celebrate that achievement."

Zen stared and exclaimed, "What? Is Michael alright? How were the losses? Did the royal army march?"

It took nearly half an hour until Zen's questions had been answered to his satisfaction. Most had come straight from the written report they had received only two days before from Lord Grim and Michael himself.

Zen leaned back and smiled. He wasn't happy that he had missed this chance for glory, and he definitely wasn't happy that the royal army had sat on their ass while his friend had to fight for his life, but he was alive and well.

"I agree that they need commendations for their heroics, and I want to present them personally. Let's hold a feast in their honor. Lord Gretten, please organize that. Lord Wulfen, take care of the messengers. I will have a letter ready an hour after this meeting," Zen instructed his council. He hesitated as he saw the gazes that they exchanged upon his orders. "Is there something else?"

This time it was Archbishop Patheros who spoke. "There have been some concerning rumors coming from the south, Your Majesty. News of nobles being arrested, merchants found dead, and soldiers breaking into homes."

"Where exactly are these rumors coming from?" Zen asked with a frown.

"They are primarily focused on Emall, Your Majesty," Duke Wulfen explained. "It is nothing concrete, but different sources are describing similar happenings, so we do judge them to hold a large amount of truth."

What is happening down there, Michael?

"Do we have anything more concrete about what exactly is going on?" Zen asked.

"Sadly, we do not. These rumors are very fresh, Your Majesty. We do suggest that you send a unit with a royal mandate of investigation to find out as soon as possible. We can't ignore the possibility that losses on Lord Rowan's side have led to some kind of rebellion. I have heard that there is a sizable portion of the nobility that is not in agreement with Lord Rowan's ... reforms," Duke Wulfen explained.

Now Zen was back to worrying.

"Pardon me for saying so, Your Majesty. I know that you are close to Lord Michael, but I am also aware of major discontent against him. I have heard the pleas of many faithful who are speaking of near heretical practices finding fertile ground in Lord Michael's lands," Archbishop Patheros added.

"When there are changes, there will always be people whining about how unnatural and wrong they are," Zen deflected the cleric's badly veiled allegations. "I am not really interested in the reasons why something is happening. I would much rather know what is happening. It seems like we are always three steps behind everyone else regarding events in my kingdom, and I will not stand for it."

Zen's exhaustion and frustration seeped into his words quite clearly and caused everyone to stay quiet, not willing to draw the king's rising ire.

"Let me hear your theories on what is happening then," Zen impatiently motioned Duke Wulfen to begin.

Their theories spanned from religious uprisings to treason, and a few more ridiculous possibilities, but in the end, they all boiled down to that they needed more information.

Zen regretted that he even asked. The wild speculations did nothing but give him more things to worry about. Suggestions like that Michael was planning a rebellion and someone found out and rose up in defiance were, of course, far-fetched, but now he had even those theories running around in his head.

He decided to send that unit to investigate, but also to hand them an invitation to the festivities he planned in case there wasn't anything grievous going on after all.

After that, Zen cut the meeting short, stating his exhaustion, and managed to slip away without much difficulty.

Zen would get some rest, but first, he had to talk to his sister. She should hear things from him. He doubted that she would take things well if she wasn't a mess already.

"I am sure things are going according to Michael's plans. You don't need to worry," Mira said after listening to Zen's account of the council meeting.

Zen blinked at her, surprised. Not only was she completely unworried, but she seemed more stable than he felt right now.

"You understand that we have no idea who is fighting whom and that there might be a civil war going on down there?" Zen asked, not sure if his sister had understood him.

Mira raised an eyebrow at him. "I am aware. I am not stupid, and neither is Michael. If something was brewing, then he probably was at least vaguely aware of it and wouldn't be caught unprepared. Trust me, there is no need to worry, brother."

How did this turn from me checking up on her to her comforting me? Zen wondered silently.

"I am not worried," Zen lied, trying to regain some composure. "I was just worried that you might be."

"Thank you for your concern. I know Michael, and I know those he surrounds himself with. He fought off a major Rangda invasion with little time to prepare, so some internal struggles will not bring him low," Mira replied with an amused smile that grated a little on her older brother.

"Oh, the subject of the Rangda. Duke Wulfen told me that you took action without consulting anyone in the council. While I am thankful that you tried to help, it now looks like we just stood there and watched while others moved decisively," Zen changed the subject. "I would appreciate it if you could coordinate with me or my councilors if you do something like this in the future."

"I did nothing, brother," Mira replied. "I just wrote some letters and happened to mention the situation in the south. I can't take any credit for what the lords of the kingdom would do with that. Either way, I am happy you are back, but my dance lessons will begin shortly, so you will have to excuse me."

With those words, Mira turned away from her stunned brother and walked off.

Since when are you so grown-up? Zen thought. You used to come running to Father and me for everything, and now you are actually starting to play the game?

He paused as he realized that he must have missed a lot of growing up on her part in the few years he had been king. The last time he remembered Mira coming to him with anything was back when Michael's family died.

We live in the same building, but I rarely see her. I need to make more of an effort to be a good big brother and not just a king. But where do I take the time from? Being king is so exhausting.

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