Marcus watched through the window as Redwater slowly came alive, the morning sun just peaking over the horizon. A trio of Royal Guards marched along the wall, new recruits without their face-obscuring helmets, and soldiers guarded the gatehouse.
Eight months hadn't been enough to rebuild the order, and in another eight it probably wouldn't be done still. Under his father they had expanded year after year, talent drawn from all corners of the Kingdom and honed under expert instruction. Now more than half of them were dead, and what remained was only just enough to ensure the order wouldn't be crushed under the weight of the new recruits.
Beyond the castle the city sprawled out, and the noise was just starting to rise properly. Before sunrise there was hardly a sound, and he had been awake for some time now. Staring at the ceiling of his room until he gave up going back to sleep.
The door opened behind him, and he heard Elly pause. She usually beat him to breakfast, though in truth Marcus was starting to sleep more and more strangely.
Endless dreams of black voids filled those hours, and while they soothed him in a way that was impossible to describe, he slept poorly. Woke with tired limbs but a clear mind, which was admittedly better than the alternative.
"You went to bed late last night," Elly said, taking a seat at the small table. His own breakfast had been served an hour ago, though he hadn't eaten much. One of her servants came with a tray of food, mostly fruit and a bowl of soaked oats. Elly only spoke again after they were alone. "Did you sleep at all?"
"Unfortunately. I saw a point in the center of the galaxy that not even light could escape, bringing order from chaos. A thousand billion planets orbiting around it, even all of that barely filling a tenth of the available space."
Elly hummed. "I dreamed my first horse was also my geography teacher, and would kick me from the saddle every time I forgot a Kingdom's capital."
"We've both suffered, then," he replied, turning to join her. "Some more than others."
She grinned at him. "I know. But I will endure, so you don't have to worry. I'm sure we wouldn't be dreaming if we slept in the same bed."
"We tried that," he replied, shaking his head. "And ignoring the innuendo, separate bedrooms was something you proposed."
"Only after you nearly sliced my toes off."
"I've apologized for that," Marcus noted, slowly buttering a piece of toast. He ignored the itch in his eyes, resigning himself to another transplant soon. At least the healer Vistus promised should arrive soon. Apparently not even Archmages had a monopoly over the Empire's best healer, though speaking of the Archmage. "Vistus said the dreams should grow less frequent soon. Less intense as my mind learns to rationalize its new perspective."
Elly didn't reply, cutting up an apple. He took her second one and bit into it, just to spite her, and suppressed a grimace. She grinned. "You don't like soft apples?"
"You've done this on purpose."
"No one forced you to steal my breakfast."
Marcus tsked. "I can smell treasonous plots from at least however-far-you're-sitting away. Your continued and extreme rudeness aside, how did the training go yesterday?"
"The new recruits are shaping up," she replied, ignoring his taunt. More rudeness. Rudeness never-ending. "Some are ready for proper combat, others aren't. But Life Enhancement is best felt, not taught. The Empire will call on us soon, and you'll have your legion of enhanced warriors."
He rolled his eyes. "Can you let that go already? I joked about an all-female army once, and you never shut up about it. Hells, it feels like something you would do. Besides, I'm not the one who insisted my guards remain at war-time standing."
"I don't trust the Empire," she replied, flicking her hand. "And despite your awakening, you're still dreadfully mortal. Now, we have some things to discuss."
"Oh?"
Elly set a pile of paperwork on the table, covering the butter he had been about to reach for. Probably a coincidence, so he didn't say anything, and her face shifted into something more serious. "That came last night. The guards assumed you were already asleep, so it was held back until this morning. Would you care to guess at what that is?"
"A report from Duke Hargraf on the increased level of trade, costs incurred to prepare for said increase in trade, as well as the taxation regulations implemented alongside the new recordkeeping structure, signed by the Duke, his personal scribe and the Royal Scribe in charge of the contingent we sent there."
She blinked. "Did you read that upside down?"
Marcus shook his head, eyesight returning to normal. "No, but I'm getting better at changing my perspective at will. Have you already read it?"
"No, but the delay allowed for someone to create a summary of the summary. I'll go over it in full later today, but today seems like a good day to go over the Kingdom's big three. I'm saying day too much."
"The Academy, Trade and the Army." He rolled his eyes. "The only reason people call that the big three is because they're trying to curry favor with you."
Elly huffed. "Shut up, it's a good name. The Academy is your thing, and I'm pretty sure you have an inspection or something coming up anyway, so I'll mostly focus on the latter two. Trade, as expected from the treaty, is flourishing. Dozens of caravans, thousands of people. Already above even the best pre-invasion numbers ever recorded, if the old records can be believed. The Moderates are handling taxation well, if somewhat stiffly."
"Stiffly?"
"A few altercations here and there," she replied, eyes roving over the pages. "Not everyone is quite over the war, especially in or near the places the Imperial Legions traveled. A few minor Lords venting frustration by barring entry, inspecting stock or flexing their local might. Nothing illegal, and Duke Hargraf is making sure nothing escalates. Sticking to the treaty we signed and more, which is smart of the man. Irritatingly smart."
Marcus shook his head. "Can't replace all the annoying nobles just because they're annoying, Elly. Well, you could, but that's how civil wars start. Our position might be secure, more so than my father's ever was, but wiping out a Duke is exactly the sort of thing that makes everyone very nervous."
"I know, I know." Elly rolled her eyes, flipping a page. "Ah, here. Hargraf is doubling down on his new taxation rule, which will increase our cut by another seven percent. He's really working hard to make sure we can't ever replace him, isn't he?"
"Of course he is. My father might not have been a mage, but he ruled for many, many years, and had a sharp mind. The only kind of nobility that thrived was the kind able to work within the system. For now we're being showered with gold, later that gold will come with strings."
Elly smiled a tiny, vicious smile. "Except we'll control the army, mages and relationships with the Empire, so those strings will be nothing more than mere suggestions."
"Exactly. Also, please stop grinning at your apple like that. It's unnerving. What's next?"
She shook her head, turning yet another page. "A full copy of the deal struck between you and Vistus, signed by yourself and the Empress. A bit redundant, but I suppose all those Royal Scribes you sent over there have to be doing something."
"And to think I was once worried about finding work for them," Marcus replied, stealing a few berries with telekinesis. Elly rolled her eyes, shoving the whole plate of fruit his way, and he hummed. "Don't steal my fun. Anyway, any changes?"
She cleared her throat. "By decree of Izzolma Mediciios Calluma, Empress of the Abliosian Empire, Governor of the Imperial City, Warden of the Dungeon, Archmage of the Unseen Truth, Defender of Man and the Nine Provinces, Herald of Destiny and Breaker of Meagar—fuck me that's still a mouthful—I charge Marcus Sepsimus Lannoy, King of Mirrania, with Stewardship of the Ninth Province. By Imperial law dictating the integration of Archmages he shall retain all titles and privileges of bla bla, this goes on for a while. You're still in charge, I'm still Queen, we technically answer to the Empress now but also not really, politics galore, ah, here. For services rendered both yesteryear and hereafter in defence against the hordes of the Dungeon, all commerce with the Ninth Province will be exempt from Imperial income and export taxes. Furthermore, the Lannoy Royal Family has been recognized as the rightful rulers of Mirrania by Imperial decree, and are entitled to Imperial aid should their rulership be challenged."
Elly flipped another two pages, tone increasingly bored. "Something something 'we'll send a few Legions if you threaten our investment; Reparations in the form of a one time shipment of five hundred thousand Imperial Ducats will be paid to aid in the reconstruction of war-torn lands, alongside shipments of lumber, stone and ore, with a combined value of one and a half million Imperial Ducats (exact shipment measurements on pages thirty four and thirty five). It goes on a little after that. Duties that boil down to 'help us against the Dungeon', blatant bribery, signed at the end by yourself and the Empress, with Archmage Vistus as a witness to both signatures."
"And I haven't even met the woman," Marcus replied, tone dry. "Two million. That's an insane amount of money, and basically forces us to adopt the ducat as our form of currency. It will tie us more closely to the Empire, but at this point that was going to happen anyway. Half of Moderate lands have accepted the gold for a century now. Another thing to keep track of. Hurray."
She shrugged. "At least the influx of money and raw supplies essentially jumpstarts our economy. I have the feeling the Empire doesn't want you, or either of us, to be bogged down dealing with economic problems instead of actually preparing for the Dungeon Break. Two million is a lot to us, not that much to them. Well, not much compared to the end of the world, anyway."
"Yeah. I'm sure it will be a problem free, easy project that won't make hundreds of thousands of people upset." Marcus shrugged at her mild glare. "Too much sarcasm? Too bad. The Empire gave us a whole bunch of money and I reserve the right to complain about it. The army?"
Elly put the papers aside, shrugging. "Well, that at least I know by heart. Rebuilding is taking time, but we're roughly up to twenty thousand soldiers again. Stronger than before, with Mirranian officers properly hardened by war and the warmages integrated much more closely, but roughly forty percent is still unblooded. It gives us a proper core of veterans, which is good, and the fighting bonded the survivors much more closely together, but we only have so many bandits in the Kingdom. Pator thinks most of them reconsidered their career choices when companies a hundred strong started ranging across the Kingdom and stamping down on every gang and would-be King with extreme prejudice."
"Fancy that," Marcus replied dryly. "So the crime spike is over?"
She hummed. "We're back to pre-invasion levels, at least, which the local Lords can deal with. Some people just can't help themselves, I suppose. They see there's a war and immediately start thinking about the best way to rob, exploit or otherwise inconvenience their fellow man. The Royal Mirranian Army has made its displeasure clear."
"The magical improvements?"
Elly grinned. "Passing all field tests with ease. The boxes give us ten times the storage for no increase in weight, and destructive failure results in nothing more than a pile of scattered food. The army can carry as much supplies as needed, perfectly safe from the elements, without risk."
"Good." Marcus shifted. "It took two months to figure out a spatial runic network that would allow regular mages to maintain them, but good. Well, I say regular mages. I'm still training a few specialists, but the point is you don't need me for them."
"Indeed. You're completely replaceable, in fact. Aside from the fact the Empire is only playing nice because you're an Archmage, or the fact we can't make more boxes without you, or the fact that you're the King, or-"
He waved his hand. "I wasn't being self-deprecating. So the army is rebuilding, trade is thriving, the Academy is not a problem right now."
"So what's next?"
Marcus hummed. "I have a meeting with Helios. I think we're finally pressing the last of the Redwater guilds into line, which Helios actually had very little to do with. Then I'm planning to offer the Loyalists a monopoly over the sea monster hunting, and I think I have a report waiting for me from Vess. Oh, and the Empress' Vizier will be here soon, so I need to prepare for that. And I still need to go over the things Vistus sent in exchange for us letting his spies live. Oh, and—"
"I get the point. Soon?"
"The meeting with Helios, yeah."
Elly shrugged, slicing a prune in half and assembling something he didn't dare name. "No need to wait on me. I have a war game to oversee anyway, and my new Life Enhancement warriors need experience fighting against someone stronger than them. Go, go."
She all but shooed him out, which was rude but efficient, and Marcus walked through the castle as it came to life. Servants were everywhere, doing all the work nobles didn't feel like doing and which necessitated getting up very early for, and most of them paused to bow until he was past. A few he recognized, offering them a quiet 'good morning', but he was mostly content to let the castle live in silence.
He liked the silence. He didn't hate noise, but silence was soothing. Always had been, though markedly more so after his awakening.
Eight months and he still wasn't used to it. Still had to suppress the instinct to snort when someone called him Archmage, or when mages he tried to teach spatial magic didn't get it. Didn't understand the underlying rules of nothing, the absence that filled the universe. He wasn't enough of a dick to say that, of course, but still.
Helios' office came up sooner rather than later, and for once there were no guards at the man's door. The war was over, the people wanting them dead no longer wanted them dead, and though the castle remained almost ridiculously protected, there was no more need for eagle-eyed guards watching their every move. Not while inside, anyway.
Thank the Gods for that.
He knocked, because manners mattered, and the Duke called for him to enter. Marcus did, suppressing a snort as the Duke knocked his knee against the desk in his haste to rise. "Good morning, Duke Helios."
"Your Grace," the man replied, tone lightly pained. "You are early. I was about to come to your office."
Marcus shrugged. "And now I am here. I felt little need for decorum between myself and those I trust even before becoming an Archmage, and now I find myself uncaring for what people think of me. Let a servant gossip that the King went to the Duke, and not the other way around."
"Gossip is eternal," the Duke replied, a smile stretching over his face. He looked old. Older than before the war, and more so than the months should account for. "But Lady Vess, as ever, is highly skilled at her job. Especially now that she has her brothers and sisters aiding her. Servants will still gossip, but only to one another. To those who will not leak our secrets."
"That helps. Do you mind if we get started?"
The Duke hummed, bundling up the papers he'd been staring at before putting them aside. Marcus glanced at the rest of the desk, noting how very orderly everything was. Papers in proper piles, ink and quills separated so they couldn't stain anything, a small picture sitting out of the way but in full view.
Even during war the man had been well groomed, Marcus' mind supplied, but it was odd how easily those things were to miss. Another piece of evidence on how he'd been neglecting the Loyalists, really.
The Moderates were looking to grow fat off trade, the Isolationist had a fire lit under them under Duchess Soema, and while the Loyalists were doing fine, it was just that. Fine. Not really shrinking, not really growing, governing the lands around Redwater and the bay. A concentrated, well maintained base of power for the King.
"Your son isn't Steward of the Crown," Marcus began. "I gave the Moderates more money than seemed wise, the Isolationists their own Duchess, and the Loyalists the Crown. But not anymore, so something else is in order. A balance, since while neither group is seemingly willing to move against me, I am not under any illusions of loyalty."
Helios spread his hands. "You are an Archmage now, your Grace. If they move against you, they show a lack of intelligence so great as to be a danger to those around them. But I won't argue myself out of whatever boon you have in mind. Please, continue."
"The bay." Marcus tapped the desk, one of the papers showing a tally of monstrosities captured and killed over the last week. "Trade with the Empire is expanding, and they want more scales. More bones, more teeth, more organs and more everything. Everything but the meat, really. They have their own vessels out hunting close to the shore, but not many. Not without a bay like ours, which traps them in relatively shallow waters. I want you, and the Loyalists in general, to increase our intake. Lure them in, which shouldn't be too hard, and prepare to butcher them properly. Store them for long journeys, you know how it works."
The Duke fingers twitched as if he itched to start writing. "That would take thousands of people. At least a hundred thousand gold to set everything up, not to mention expanding the navy. Mages, too, to make sure one of the beasts doesn't get lucky every now and then. Equipment, trained workers, more mages to freeze the butchered corpses—"
"I'm aware of the details," Marcus interrupted, holding up a hand. "You'll have the money, thanks to the Empire. It will lay the groundwork for switching over to the Imperial Ducat, which we're going to have to do sooner or later regardless. I'd rather do it properly, not out of desperation. But not only will we make a lot of gold, I'm training more enchanters. Specialist mages who need magically charged material to work with."
"That could work. That could work very well. The Empire will keep buying as long as we keep supplying, and they have a very large market. Which will grow as we prove able to supply more and more material."
"Exactly. I want you to set it up. Use Loyalist Barons and Lords, and more ports than just Redwater. Build them if need be. If we spread the wealth the Loyalists will grow stronger."
Helios' smile spread wider. "And would necessitate a growth in the armed forces, to protect the new wealth. More ships, more sailors, more guards to protect it all. It will empower the Loyalists greatly, and use your mages at every step of the way."
Marcus smiled lightly, demurring any such implied claims, and before long Helios was already planning things out on paper. Investments to pay back to the Crown, interest free, and which Barons would be best to put in charge.
That was one thing off his list, then. Time to visit Vess.