As I grew up, we experienced a few periods of drought followed by famine that never lasted more than a month or two because the entire Izla was never hit all at once so those affected could spend their coin to fill their plates, even though that made it very hard for those who did to pay their taxes.

Yet, the last time it happened, Mother went sick at the same time and refused to eat any more than we did, in fact she ate less because we were in the middle of adolescence and she wanted to make sure we wouldn't be stunted in our growth.

Mother succeeded, I'm not short! I feel the tears coming so I roar in anger to push them away, showing teeth as I glare at Cecil. The woman sustains my look in a calm manner, which this time isn't sufficient to quell my rage.

“The outcome isn't guaranteed, I'm merely making a prediction.” Cecil explains. “I may take advantage of the famine, but it will only occur if Nobility fails in its duties. Caeviel has the grain to last until the first of next year's harvest, the question is whether our Rulers will be wise enough to evenly distribute what's there or gather an army that will further concentrate the supplies they have to the detriment of the population.”

“We need to help!” I yell at her, knowing very well that I'm being childish.

“We have a surplus but it is not one consequent enough that sharing would do any good.” Cecil sighs.

She pulls a drawer open to take two cups out. She slides one over to me before seizing a pitcher and pouring wine for us. I fall back into the armchair, defeated by her lack of emotional reaction and a sadness that doesn't mix well with my anger.

“How bad will it be?” I ask.

“I don't know.” Cecil takes a sip. “Cenwalh could venture north to Hetlan if he finds an excuse, which would be bad for us but best for Caeviel since the supplies would remain inside the Kingdom. The most likely is that he'll make a move to cut the grass under Commander Lance's feet to undermine her popularity among Nobility and peasantry, the question remains about what he'll do to achieve that considering the Izla is out of his reach.”

“What about Port-Odo?” I question, feeling sick.

“He could easily seize control of the city but that would backfire as it is the city that suffered the most from the Rykz and the place of gathering for Commander Lance's call to arms.” Cecil tells me.

I seize my drink to take a long gulp of wine, finding it dry but fruity. I drink until I've downed half of it, and then I keep going. I start feeling lightheaded and dizzy so I slide the cup back to Cecil, waving my hand in the negative when she offers more as my dark mood fades.

“I'm done with all of this, a famine isn't something I can solve and I'm not suited for politics.” I grunt.

“Yes, I've realized as much.” Cecil says with a thin smile. “What are your plans?”

“Return to my life.” I tell her. “Improve what few skills I have.”

“You wouldn't be interested in a position in the army, would you?” Cecil asks.

“You want me commanding troops? Me?” I question, perplexed.

“No, I'm merely interested in picking your mind on security measures considering how many you've broken.” She explains.

“I wouldn't join the army but I've already given something to the Hospitaliers, it was mostly about equality but it applies.” I mutter, laying deeper into the backrest. I quickly tell her about how I entered Meria with Yvonne. “You can't give special permissions and expect to maintain control of what comes in, even if you only give them to people you trust.”

“I'm aware of that but it's not a breach I can solve.” Cecil says with a frown. “Templars and Hospitaliers do as they wish, not to mention Nobility, because city guards don't want to get in trouble for hindering them.”

“Why did you restore them, by the way?” I ask. “Did the Hospitaliers fail at keeping the peace?”

“No, but they've started to deploy across the Izla and lacked the numbers to handle Meria as a consequence.” Cecil tells me.

“You should fold the city guard in their organization then.” I tell her. “If the Hospitaliers become corrupt, you're screwed anyway.”

“That is true.” She acknowledges while tapping her chin.

“You're aware of the Justiciers?” I ask, to which she nods. “There's recourse outside the Hospitaliers' chain of command if they misbehave, which isn't the case of the city guard where you depend on the officers of those accused to be truthful, which is unlikely even if they're not involved themselves.”

“Hm.” Cecil closes her eyes for a moment to think. “I'll present that to the Council if the Hospitaliers agree that the ranked members of the city guard will be given equivalent posts.”

“They'll have to pass a contest.” I warn her.

“That is fine as long as enough low-born take officer positions.” Cecil waves her hand to dismiss the concern. “The system of petitions makes it easy to influence the Hospitaliers.”

“I would suggest random checks of abandoned buildings and warehouses.” I tell her.

“Already doing so.” Cecil replies with a smile. “We've already caught quite a few spies because people feel more involved about the Republic.”

“Well, I'm not sure what to suggest that you wouldn't think of.” I admit. “You could use scanning constructs to detect runic constructs in objects where there shouldn't be any and disruption constructs in sensitive areas.”

“I didn't think of the former.” Cecil says. “How would that work?”

“Just calibrate it to detect energy, I'm sure the army already does that.” I tell her. “You can also set it to detect specific segments, like timers.”

“I'll get my people on that.” Cecil mutters, looking around her office with concern before shaking her head. “No, access is always controlled here, the worry is being spied on in more public places.”

“Don't you know the construct?” I ask.

“I never had a specific need for it, as far as I know, it is only used for mining.” Cecil responds. “But I've gathered the tutors who remained after most Noble houses fled the Izla so it won't be difficult to find someone to teach us.”

I nod in approval, impressed by the Madame's ability to find resources where I wouldn't even think to look. I assemble a scanning construct to detect flow and activate it by targeting trinkets one by one, vases, quills, bottles, torches, anything in sight.

Cecil opens her drawers to help and even slides a painting to open a safe for me to verify it. It takes me a good hour, and burns through a lot of my energy, but I feel safer once I'm done without finding any foreign construct.

“You're never going to secure the city, or even the keep, to be honest.” I tell her.

“I am very aware of how easily one can find holes in the tightest security measures.” Cecil sighs. “Which is why I rely on a network of skillful trustworthy people who can adapt alongside strict protocols.”

“I'm not going to be part of that.” I affirm.

“Which is a loss but one I expected after I've heard of your resignation from the Council.” Cecil responds, waving her hand before locking eyes with me. “Now, I would like to know what happened with Aisha. Is she dead?” She asks with a hard glint in her gaze.

“No, she absconded with Suxen and then deactivated the defenses in the Rykz Princess' cell.” I reply.

I don't recount all that occurred in the end, deciding to keep my word about skipping over Aisha's manipulative screw-ups as I gave the Shade my word I wouldn't if she didn't betray me, which she arguably didn't.

I frown in irritation the entire time but find no real rage to summon as I realize that the woman likely did her best while improvising and I'm the last person who should be blaming her for the cost in lives of her actions.

“Silly girl.” Cecil whispers in a concerned tone. “Still blind to the Empire's nature.”

“And what is that?” I ask.

"That of a military behemoth led by an Emperor who has little interest in individual Kingdoms as long as his power remains unchallenged.” Cecil replies, throwing me a careful look. “I would qualify it as a serpent which eats its own tail when it fails to find prey.”

“Harsh.” I bitterly chuckle.

“The image is vivid.” Cecil acknowledges.

“She told me to tell you to search her stuff, that you'll find indications to find her gold stashes.” I tell her.

“Ah, speaking of gold.” Cecil says.

She starts rifling through the drawer to her left, frowning as she apparently fails to find what she seeks. She opens several more drawers with no more success before finally getting up and opening a chest from which she pulls a large pouch I scanned earlier.

“Did you seriously forget where you put your gold?” I ask, expecting to have to refuse another person trying to pay me.

“No, merely where I stored yours.” She tells me.

“Cecil...” I start.

“This represents the sum of Count Odo's personal belongings in Meria.” She cuts me off, throwing the heavy pouch on my knees. “They belong to you by right in for winning the duel, not even King Cenwalh would challenge this.”

I blink a few times, feeling a prickling in the corner of my eyes as the memories of the circumstances before the duel arise. I think back to the arrow that pierced Father's chest and ended his life, to the fact that it wouldn't have happened if not for Elizabeth Vil.

I'm sorry. Shut up. Shut up. Two tiny tears poke out that I obliterate with a sleight of hand that likely doesn't fool Cecil. She pours some more wine in my cup which I gulp down as soon as she hands it over.

I pull the leather roll out of the inside of my shirt and throw it with the gold pouch on the desk. Cecil keeps staring at me for a while before taking the pieces of parchment out and swiftly going through them.

“I don't want or need any of that gear and I can't do anything with these mines.” I tell her.

“You could bend the Izla's Order over your knee, if this is accurate.” Cecil comments, referring to the fact that the Rykz seized most of their gear. “In a manner of speaking.”

“You know the Izla's spheres of power better than I ever will.” I shrug. “Do what you want. Give it back or hand it over to the Hospitaliers or melt the steel for the army.”

“You're completely running away.” Cecil mutters.

“I merely arrived at a fork in the road, one led to the Rykz, one to humans, one to myself. Guess which I chose.” I tell her.

“So you're giving up.” Cecil says, exhaling loudly in exasperation.

“I'm setting myself apart.” I correct. “Because I want to be free and neither the Rykz nor the Empire would truly allow it.”

“We...” Cecil starts but it's my turn to cut her off and I don't hesitate.

“Your Republic is built on a Noble faction that still drives the Duchy's relationship with the Kingdom.” I utter flatly. “The Council couldn't go against Lady Lance if it wanted to and the same goes for the Hospitaliers. No matter what Grace Odo would wish, Commander Lance is the one who grants and allows her independence.”

“And the fact that the Hospitaliers' officers are mostly Nobles, and so is my daughter who is second in command, does not help the Republic's case.” Cecil adds, showing her understanding of my argument.

“You are beyond lucky that Lady Lance is willing to allow you to build the Republic but it will take decades until the Duchy learns to unite without a Noble house at the core as it is right now.” I explain. “You want me? Purge it all, rid us of Nobility, titles, privileges. No more high-born or bourgeois in any position of power or even prestige in government.”

“Noble houses guarantee contracts, they provide a stability for guilds and common folk that we simply cannot yet. You are not worth the chaos that such a drastic change in the system would cause, or how weak we would be at the end of such a conflict.” Cecil notes quietly.

“Indeed.” I chuckle. “But we would be united, having shown the low-born who would support Nobility that those they suborn to have lost to their brethren.”

“It will happen, but it cannot now.” Cecil shakes her head.

“If not now, never.” I utter, failing to control my voice.

She remains silent for a long while, letting me lie back down and regain my breath. After a while, I realize the stupidity of my knee-jerk reaction as I could use the coin to help more than myself. Yet, I feel sick and disgusted at the mere idea of touching Odo's gold.

“Would you be able to spend the gold on a specific project?” I ask Cecil.

“Of course.” She nods, leaning over her desk in interest.

“I have this, project. A double-headed plow, although it can be single-headed, that would speed up field work.” I explain.

“Is it any good?” Cecil asks bluntly.

“I think so, Celyz was impressed and I have enough experience in farm work to judge that the amount of energy it'll require to use isn't excessive.” I tell her.

“You need help producing it?” She asks.

“I'm entirely incapable of making it.” I correct. “I couldn't even figure out who to hire to help.”

“You're savvy enough to ask people who could help you find the skills you need.” Cecil comments.

“But I don't want to profit from this.” I flatly tell her. “I've done almost all I could with creating the constructs and the overall plan for the plow. What remains is for people who have the skills to go over my work and make it a reality.”

“It'll require a guild to contact various artisans to build it.” Cecil informs me. “I can easily create a new guild for you as well.”

“Not me.” I shake my head. “Give the plow to those who make it.” I tell her, knowing that the Madame's brand of greed has to do with political and social power rather than coin.

“Yes, you.” Cecil frowns. “I understand that you dislike the system and want to part in it but I don't. I won't be cheating it by letting you gift your work over for free.”

“What can you do if I refuse?” I ask, raising an amused eyebrow.

“I'll put your name down as the owner anyway.” She smirks at me. “You'll have to figure out how the system works from the outside without access to me and go through quite the process to contest me all the while laughed at for trying to deny yourself something you own.”

“Whatever.” I shake my head. “Use my name if you want, there are hundreds of Jessica.”

“Indeed, I'll have to make a personalized seal. Fortunately, I already have your energy signature.” Cecil grins victoriously.

“What are you trying to achieve?” I ask, slanting my head to hammer in the point that I don't care about her scheme.

“All that gear and the mines can't belong to me without causing some issues and I don't want to give this to the Council because they'll be fighting over it.” Cecil explains, swiping her hand over the leather roll I gave her. “Since I'll be managing this new guild, it might as well come in useful to pressure the Council and the rest of the guilds in various ways. Not to mention the usefulness of being a supplier for the Templars, Hospitaliers, and the army.” Cecil adds, her gaze lost in space. “And if you have any issues with how I do things... well, you'll just have to get involved, won't you?” She asks with a dark chuckle.

“You owe me five silvers for the information on Aisha and her gold stashes.” I tell her, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Two at the most, surely.” Cecil contests, making us both laugh.

“Ah, too bad. I was going to tell you all about the Rykz' mushroom pits, what's likely to happen between the Lisilese and the Rykz soon, the hordes that should fall on the Empire in two years, and more about the institute.” I mention offhandedly. “But if you're going to be that cheap...”

“Well, let's hear what you have first.” Cecil protests.

“Hmph.” I snort.

“Fine, I'll fork the silver out.” She sighs theatrically, pulling a pouch from a drawer.

I spend the next few hours telling her pretty much everything that happened while drinking her wine, finding that the alcohol unties my tongue and makes it easier to share my version of events, even the darkest parts.

The main reason I allow myself to lower my guard is that I trust her to keep my secrets and she makes it uncomplicated because she offers no judgment, encouragement, or reprisal for my actions. Cecil merely listens quietly to my ramblings.

I find myself even recounting my relationship with Celyz and am beyond surprised that she doesn't show a shred of disgust. I don't tell her everything, keeping to myself the letter I've sent to my brother and the secrets I hold for the Rykz, including my constructs.

“So, that's about it.” I finish, sighing in relief.

“Wine's done too.” Cecil comments, dangling the pitcher from her fingers.

“Probably for the best.” I chuckle. “I still need to visit the Alemplar.”

“It'll be night soon, you should probably go tomorrow.” She tells me.

“I'm leaving tomorrow.” I reply with a slur in my voice.

“You know where to find him?” She asks me. I shake my light head. “He lodges at one of the barracks north of the Temple, be polite.”

“I always am!” I exclaim too loudly.

“Right.” Cecil chuckles elegantly, bringing her fingers in front of her mouth like a spoiled bourgeois or Lady. It makes me grimace because it's so out of place considering her age.

“Ugh, don't do that.” I grunt.

“Yes, very polite indeed.” The Madame grins.

She hands me a pouch with a couple dozen silvers. I take ten out and give them back before tying it to my belt. Cecil stands up with me to escort me to the door. I stumble a little but manage to place one foot in front of the other.

“Have a safe trip back home, Jessica.” She tells me as she opens the door.

“Bye! I'll send you the plans.” I reply. “Don't, hesitate to tell Leomi, if she's being too much.” I add.

“Alright.” Cecil smiles gently.

I walk out, past two different guards who throw me odd glances. Might be, no title, right that's why. Unfortunately, repeating myself but by adding her title of Commander only causes the two to grow more confused.

I decide to ignore them and head downstairs, enhancing my senses once more to make sure I don't get ambushed or run into Leomi. I head to the keep's entrance to leave in order to avoid the ballroom.

I encounter no difficulty even though there's almost no one in the corridors or outside this late in the day. I exit by the low wall's western gate and make my way to the Shipwold's apartment, finding Yvonne anxiously waiting for me at the portal.