Chapter 93: The Duke Delegates
Dominic woke to sunlight, the smell of fresh plaster, and a weight on his chest.
The weight was Wobbly. It had wrapped a curtain tassel around itself like a scarf and fallen asleep there, glowing a soft, contented violet.
The other weight was on his arm. Florence was sprawled across two thirds of the bed, one leg hooked over his, wearing the white shirt he had left on the chair the night before. It hung off one shoulder. She had also taken most of the blanket.
"Morning, Master," she mumbled into the pillow, without opening her eyes.
"That’s my shirt."
"It was." She cracked one eye open, crimson and entirely unrepentant. "Now it’s a shared resource."
"Shared with who?"
"Me." She stretched, and the shirt did very little to help the situation. "You looked comfortable in it. I’m just keeping it warm."
"I wasn’t wearing it."
"Which is why it needed warming."
She rolled closer, pressed a lazy kiss to his jaw, and smiled against his skin. "Also, you’re warm. That was the real reason."
"You have your own room."
"It’s very far away."
"It’s four doors down."
"Like I said. Very far."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Theresa’s side of the bed was empty, the sheets already smoothed flat, as if she had never been there at all. That meant she had been up for hours, which meant there was work waiting.
He lifted Wobbly off his chest and set it on the pillow. It burbled, offended, and promptly went back to sleep.
The dining hall had been cleared of scaffolding overnight, and someone had put actual flowers on the table.
Theresa sat at one end with a cup of tea and three neat stacks of paper. Aldous stood beside her, holding a fourth stack. Lysandra sat across from them, back straight, hands folded, looking like she was waiting to be called into an exam.
"You’re late," Theresa said, not looking up.
"It’s barely past eight."
"Aldous has been awake since five. I have been awake since five. Lysandra has been awake since, I believe, yesterday."
"I couldn’t sleep," Lysandra admitted, pink to the ears. "It’s a very large house."
Florence dropped into the seat beside Dominic and stole a piece of toast off his plate. The shirt had acquired a belt. It was now, technically, a dress. Aldous looked at it for exactly one second, then looked at the wall with great dignity.
"Right," Dominic said. "Before we eat, I want to say something."
Everyone looked at him. Even Wobbly, who had arrived at some point, rose from the bread basket with a crumb stuck to its side.
"We’re going to be here two weeks. Then Lysandra and I go back to Caldmore for school. That’s not much time, and this place needs everything. So I’m not going to do it myself, because I’d do it badly." He took a breath. "I’m giving each of you a piece of Arkania."
Theresa’s tea paused halfway to her mouth.
"Theresa. Administration. Records, the Harwick lands, taxes, the courts, whatever needs sorting. You have my full authority as proxy. Anything you sign carries my seal."
The cup went down very slowly.
"You are making me the duchy’s administrator."
"Proxy."
"That is a worse word."
"Aldous will assist you. He knows the estate and the people."
Aldous bowed. "I am at the lady’s disposal, and have taken the liberty of listing forty-three matters currently awaiting the duke’s signature."
He placed the fourth stack in front of her.
Theresa stared at it. Then she stared at Dominic. Her expression did not change, which was somehow the most alarming part.
"Build your own team," Dominic added quickly. "Hire whoever you need. Clerks, scribes, anyone. Whatever’s best for Arkania, you decide, and I’ll back it."
"You understand," she said evenly, "that I will be hiring a great many people, and that you will not enjoy the budget."
"I’ll survive it."
"You will not." She picked up the first page and read it. After a moment, her mouth moved, just barely. "Fine. But you owe me."
"What do I owe you?"
She turned the page. "I’ll tell you later."
Florence made a low, delighted noise into her toast.
"Florence," Dominic said.
She sat up so fast the belt nearly gave way. "Yes, Master?"
"The army."
Her grin spread slowly, like a blade being drawn. "The whole thing?"
"Aldous says the current garrison is about forty men with spears."
"Forty-two," Aldous corrected gently. "And a considerable number of opinions."
"Rebuild it however you want, including the leftovers from the Harwicks. Train them, sort them, throw out whoever won’t change. Mercenaries, locals, anyone willing to earn a place."
"Anyone?"
"If they’ve got the skill."
"Position by ability, not by birth," Florence said, almost reverently. "No bowing to old names. Just work." She cracked her knuckles. "I’m going to enjoy this so much."
"Try not to break too many of them."
"I’ll break exactly as many as I need to." She winked. "Don’t worry. I’ll leave you the ones who can still walk."
Aldous closed his eyes briefly, like a man who had just glimpsed his future. When he opened them again, he said, "if the garrison commander has asks what one wears to be inspected by the duke’s lady. How would you like me to respond?"
"Tell him to wear armor," Florence said cheerfully. "A lot of it."
"I will phrase it more gently."
"Don’t."
"Lysandra."
She jumped. "Y-yes?"
"Trade."
"Trade?"
"Your barony is next to the old Kane lands, and it’s the best place for a market. Roads, tolls, merchants, whatever makes people want to do business here. You grew up in a shop. You know how it works better than any of us."
Her mouth opened, then closed. She looked at her hands. Dominic watched the shy girl and the other one, the one who beat berserkers to death, trade places behind her eyes. When she looked up again, her back was straighter.
"I can do that," she said quietly. "I think I can do that." A breath. "I will."
Under the table, he found her hand and squeezed it once. She went red from collar to hairline and stared very hard at the flowers.
"Cute," Florence whispered, loudly enough for the entire hall.
"Eat your toast," Theresa said, without looking up.
[New Quest: A Duchy in Working Order]
[Objective: Establish administration, a military force, and a trade network in Arkania.]
[Time Limit: 14 days]
[Reward: 600 GT]
[Note: Delegation counts. A leader who does everything himself is just a very busy peasant.]
Dominic read it and decided not to share it with the table.
"There’s one more thing," he said, once the plates had been cleared. "The vault."
Aldous’s expression sharpened. "The Emperor’s ring, my lord?"
Dominic set it on the table. Black and gold, the Kane crest cut into the stone.
Aldous looked at it for a long moment. "Your father rode north into the hills several times a year, alone. He never said where. I never asked." He folded his hands. "If the ring is a key, there is a place it fits. I would start with the old waystone road. It is three days out, perhaps four with camping."
"Three or four days there," Theresa said, still writing. "The same back. Two weeks in Arkania. A week’s ride to Caldmore." She stopped. "That is already late."
"A little late," Dominic said.
"The registrar will remember."
"He’ll understand. I’m a duke."
"He will understand that you are a duke who missed the first week of term." She finally looked up. "I will write you an excuse. It will be very polite and very long."
"Thank you."
"You will still be glared at."
The hall emptied slowly.
Aldous left with Theresa, already reciting names. Lysandra followed with a ledger clutched to her chest like a shield. Florence got as far as the door, then turned.
"Master."
"Yes?"
"I’m taking the shirt."
"You’re already wearing it."
"Then I’m keeping it." She blew him a kiss and was gone, boots ringing down the corridor, belt flapping.
Dominic sat alone for a moment in the quiet. The sunlight had reached the middle of the table. Somewhere outside, a hammer started up.
A soft cough sounded from the doorway. Lysandra stood there, the ledger still clutched to her chest, shifting from foot to foot.
"I forgot something."
"The ledger?"
"No, I have the ledger." She crossed the room in quick steps, rose onto her toes, and kissed his lips, brief and warm. "Thank you. For trusting me with it. Nobody has ever handed me a whole barony before."
"You earned it."
"I know right?" She flushed, and almost smiled. "That’s the strange part. I think I did."
She fled before he could answer, tripping once on the threshold and pretending she hadn’t.
Then Theresa leaned back through the doorway.
"Dominic."
"Yes?"
"Your summon is in the ink."
He turned. Wobbly sat in the middle of Theresa’s third stack, glowing a deeply satisfied purple. A thin black stain was spreading across the top page. It burped, and a small bubble of ink drifted upward and popped.
Theresa closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh.