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Demon from the land and have prioritized public spending.”

“So, they celebrate the fact I’m approachable by building me a big fancy castle?” I grinned at him.

Istvan smiled wryly. “Yes. I have heard the same praise from many mouths. The citizens of Racsa are pleased to furnish their Voivode with a fine home. A fine castle burnishes the beauty of the city it oversees, and is something for them to be proud of. Though, now that you have guest accommodations, I think it would be wise to start courting the other nobles of the land.”

A home? It was strange to think of this place as a home. I passed my hand over one of the walls as Istvan stopped and opened a room ahead of me. “Any particular reason?”

“Yes. Following the Battle of Solonovka, there is a rumor circulating that you are a military prodigy who may wish to reform all aspects of the province, and some of your Satraps are starting to become nervous. The fact we have over five thousand veteran soldiers garrisoned on our doorstep has not dispelled these rumors.”

“Well, they can stew for a while longer. I’ll make some time to do a meet and greet, but I’m not going to be upset if they’re nervous.” I came to a stop as Istvan did. “What would you recommend?”

“My suggestion is that you host a victory ball once the castle is complete, and use it as an opportunity to demonstrate generosity and strength.” He lay a hand on the door handle. “You will have the facilities to do so. This room is an excellent example of what Myszno’s crafters are capable of.”

He opened the door, and a wave of warm air wafted over us. I eased in, eyes widening as I took in the view.

The artisans had done the parlor up in warm, rich colors: golds and honey-yellows, deep browns and charcoal, all of which contrasted well with the white and gold lights overhead. The bay windows looked down into the courtyard. There was a sofa, chairs, a small reading table, two bookshelves, and a small, fully stocked bar. It was dark and comfortable, rich with the scents of woodsmoke, leather, oranges and whiskey. And it was all mine.

“Lord Bolza insisted his décor always be in the colors of his livery, but you seem to prefer a less ostentatious look,” Istvan said, folding his hands behind his back. “This seemed more appropriate.”

“It’s beautiful.” I gingerly sat down on the leather sofa. It was the color of dark chocolate, springy and comfortable. “Where did all this stuff come from?”

“Here and there. Don’t worry, it’s all paid for.” Istvan went to the bar and took down two tumblers. “Brandy?”

“Sure.” I tried to relax, but it was difficult to believe—really believe—that this stuff belonged to me. It looked like an upscale bar, or a billionaire’s private study. I’d grown up expecting I’d never own a normal home, let alone… this.

Istvan brought my brandy over and set it down, then took the seat across from me with his own glass of water. “How does it feel?”

“Surreal,” I said, picking up the dark amber liquor and swirling it once. “I worry I’ll get too used to it.”

“You’re no Lorenzo Soma.” Istvan flashed me a wry smile. “Care to bring me up to speed on your efforts? And the campaign against Ilia?”

“The campaign against Ilia is pretty straightforward, for the moment. Ignas is flying the entire 2nd Fleet in, and Jeun and Dakhdir are joining him to drive Ororgael and Lucien Hart back,” I replied, sniffing the brandy curiously. “Suri, Rin, Karalti and I went to Meewhome.”

Istvan’s lips quirked. “Meewhome?”

“Yeah. We recovered blueprints for four of the Warsingers, and tech that might lead to some serious advances in weaponry and communications. We made a good diplomatic start with the de-facto rulers of the Meewfolk. If Ignas is willing to communicate with them, and I figure he will be, they’re open to backing us in the event the Drachan are released and have to be put down.”

Istvan’s eyebrows arched. “That is a considerable achievement for one week.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s weird. I feel like I haven’t done enough.” I had a sip and rolled it over my tongue. The brandy was sweet, creamy and caramelly, with just a hint of spice.

“Restlessness is not a bad thing for a leader to feel, in moderation. Do not worry, my lord: you are far from indolent.”

“Man… try telling that to my dad.” I let out a small, bitter laugh. “How are things here? I know you’ve got a list of things we need to do.”

“A short list,” he replied. “There are more cases of Thornlung in Riverside—twenty or so people are ill, but the plague does not seem to have spread beyond the district walls. We have three of the five healers you requested and supplies ready to go, but we still need to source two more if we are to effectively combat the disease.”

“That’s what I’ll be doing while Rin does her thing in Litvy.” I frowned. “What else?”

“The artist who is to design your heraldry and banners has arrived, quartered in a guest room just down the hall from us,” he continued. “Also, those Starborn you met with have finished clearing the university of monsters and brigands. They requested houses in Karhad as their reward in lieu of payment. I granted them apartments and encouraged them to take up quests around the city to make their living.”

“Awesome.” I had another sip of brandy and eased back. “You already told me where Vash is at. Is that all?”

“For now,” Istvan said. “Countess Hussar is apparently almost finished settling matters in Bas, and sent a letter saying that she will join us soon to serve as Suri’s squire. Until then, we have at least a brief interlude between crises.”

“Don’t jinx

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