I woke up with a headache that felt like a hostile takeover was happening inside my skull.
The air in my bedchamber was thick with the scent of expensive lavender and something medicinal. I shifted, feeling the silk sheets against my skin, and realized I was no longer in my corset. Someone had changed me into a nightgown of sheer, breathable gossamer.
"Finally. I was starting to think I'd have to hire a necromancer to wake my Chancellor."
I turned my head. Alaric was sitting in a high-backed chair by the window, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. The moonlight caught the sharp line of his jaw. He looked different—less like a cold statue and more like a man who had seen something he couldn't quite explain.
"How long was I out?" I asked, my voice raspy.
"Six hours. Long enough for the High Priest to be placed under house arrest and for the temple's gold to be moved into the palace vaults under heavy guard." He stood up, walking toward the bed. "The city is calling you the 'Chosen of the Sun.' They think you performed a miracle."
"I didn't perform a miracle, Alaric. I performed an intervention," I muttered, sitting up. "The miracle is that you didn't let me fall on my face."
Alaric stopped at the edge of the bed. He reached out as if to touch my forehead, then pulled his hand back, his eyes narrowing. "Don't get used to it. You're more useful to me alive and auditing than dead and martyred."
[System Prompt: Skill 'Venture Capitalist's Eye' is recalibrating...] [Target: Alaric von Ravenstone] [Current Risk Level: Medium-High] [Hidden Asset: He has secretly diverted his personal salary to pay for the widows of the 4th Infantry.]
My heart softened for a fraction of a second. The cold Emperor has a conscience? That's a terrible business model, but a great character trait.
"We have a problem," Alaric continued, his tone turning clinical. "My mother has arrived."
I froze. In The Fallen Crown, the Dowager Empress Catherine was the woman who had truly orchestrated Evelyn's execution. She was a master of "Soft Power"—poisoned tea, whispered rumors, and social isolation. She hated the original Evelyn for being weak. She would hate me for being strong.
"She's in the tea room," Alaric said, a trace of pity in his voice. "And she brought her own hemlock."
The Tea Room Audit
Dowager Empress Catherine was a vision in silver lace and mourning pearls. She sat perfectly upright, her face a mask of porcelain perfection that defied age.
As I entered the room—wearing a sharp, structured dress of midnight blue that screamed Executive rather than Victorian Doll—she didn't even look up from her porcelain cup.
"I am told," Catherine began, her voice like a velvet garrote, "that my daughter-in-law has developed a sudden passion for... bookkeeping. And that she has spent her honeymoon bullying the Church and stripping noblemen of their clothes in public."
"It's called 'Asset Recovery,' Mother," I said, taking a seat opposite her without waiting for an invitation.
Catherine finally looked at me. Her eyes were a pale, watery grey, but they were as sharp as surgical needles. "You have caused a scandal that will take decades to scrub from the Bismarck name. You have embarrassed the Crown by acting like a common merchant."
"A common merchant sells goods, Catherine," I replied, leaning forward. "I'm an Empress. I sell stability. And right now, the Crown's 'brand' is worth exactly zero. I'm just fixing the valuation."
Catherine set her tea cup down with a delicate clink. "You think yourself so clever because you found a few corrupt ministers? You are playing a game you do not understand. The nobility is a delicate ecosystem of favors and debts. You are tearing the web apart."
"I'm not tearing it apart. I'm auditing it," I said.
[Skill Activated: 'Venture Capitalist's Eye'!] [Target: Dowager Empress Catherine] [Analysis: Personal Spending exceeds her 'Royal Stipend' by 200%.] [Source of Funding: Secret 'Black-Market' kickbacks from the Southern Silk Trade.] [Burn Rate: Dangerous. She is one month away from defaulting on a massive debt to the Foreign Merchant Guild.]
I smiled. It was the same smile I used when I found out a competitor was cooking their books.
"Speaking of favors and debts," I said, my voice dropping to a conversational tone. "I noticed an interesting line item in the Southern Trade reports this morning. It seems a large amount of silk is being moved through the border without being taxed. And the 'protection fee' for those shipments is being paid into a private account held in the name of... 'The Silver Rose'?"
Catherine's porcelain mask cracked. Just a tiny tremor in her hand, but it was enough.
"I have no interest in merchant gossip," she snapped.
"It's not gossip if I have the receipts," I said, pulling a small slip of paper from my pocket. It was blank, but with the System's glow, I made it look like it was covered in numbers. "The Merchant Guild is getting impatient, Catherine. They're tired of paying you kickbacks. They were planning to go to Alaric next week to ask for a 'pardon' in exchange for exposing their secret partner."
I leaned back, crossing my legs. "Imagine the scandal. The Dowager Empress, the paragon of virtue, involved in smuggling and tax evasion. Alaric would have no choice but to send you to the Northern Convent. It's very cold there this time of year. I hear the tea is mostly melted snow."
Catherine's face went from pale to a ghostly white. "What do you want?"
"I want your support," I said. "When I move to centralize the banking system next month, I want you to tell the noble ladies at your tea parties that it's the 'fashionable' thing to do. I want you to be my social lobbyist."
"You... you want me to be your servant?"
"I want you to be a partner," I corrected. "In exchange, I'll 'restructure' your debt. I'll pay off the Merchant Guild from the Treasury's new surplus, and we'll record it as an 'Imperial Cultural Grant.' No one has to know."
Catherine stared at me for a long time. The silence was heavy with the weight of her crumbling pride. She had come here to destroy me, but she had walked into a boardroom she didn't know existed.
"You really are a shark," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and genuine awe.
"I prefer the term 'Turnaround Specialist'," I said, standing up. "I'll have the NDAs—non-disclosure agreements—sent to your room by evening. Don't worry about the hemlock, Catherine. I prefer my tea with a bit of honey and a lot of profit."
The Observation
As I walked out of the tea room, I saw Alaric leaning against a pillar in the hallway. He had been listening.
"You just blackmailed the most powerful woman in the Empire," he said, his voice unreadable.
"I didn't blackmail her. I offered her a debt-consolidation loan with high social interest," I replied, not breaking my stride.
Alaric fell into step beside me. "My mother has killed men for less than what you just said to her."
"Men are easy to kill. Money is harder," I said. I stopped and looked at him. "The Church is dealt with. The internal leaks are being plugged. But we still have the biggest liability of all, Alaric."
"The Northern War," he finished for me.
"Exactly. Wars are just expensive marketing campaigns with high casualty rates. We're going to the front, Alaric. We're going to audit the army."
Alaric looked at me, a slow, dark smile finally touching his lips—one that finally reached his eyes. "You want to audit a battlefield?"
"I want to see the return on my investment," I said. "And besides, I've always wanted to see what a 'War Budget' looks like when it's actually spent on winning."
[System Notification!] [Reputation: -85 -> -60] [Alaric's Interest: 25% -> 35%] [New Chapter Unlocked: The Logistics of Love and War.]