The Office of the Imperial Chancellor of the Treasury was a cavernous room filled with the scent of ancient dust and the silent weight of centuries of corruption. In my past life, my office was all glass, chrome, and high-speed internet. Here, I had mountains of parchment, scratching quills, and a staff of clerks who looked at me like I was a ghost that had just walked out of a nightmare.
"The Empress's personal accounts," I said, pointing to a stack of leather-bound ledgers that stood nearly as tall as I was. "I want them cross-referenced with the Southern Relief expenditures from the last five years. By noon."
The Chief Clerk, a man whose skin looked like yellowed vellum, trembled. "But Chancellor... those are the Empress's private records. Even the King has never asked for a 'Detailed Breakdown'."
