The counter-offensive began at dawn.
Catarina dressed in her most practical riding habit. It was dark green velvet, tailored for movement.
She rode to the central market. She did not take a heavy guard. She took two scribes.
She walked through the stalls. She inspected the produce.
She stopped at a grain merchant's stall.
"Mr. miller," she said loudly enough for the crowd to hear. "I noticed the eastern road repairs are ahead of schedule. We should see a decrease in transport costs this month."
The miller blinked. "Truly, Your Grace?"
"Truly," Catarina said. She signed a document the scribe held out.
"I am authorizing a reduction in the market tax to match the savings. Pass it on to your customers."
A ripple went through the crowd.
Tax reduction.
Victor Roselle had been giving speeches about "Martial Honor" and "Ancient Bloodlines."
Catarina was putting coins in their pockets.
By noon, she was at the city walls. She inspected the ballistae with the captain of the watch.
