Word travelled fast in the palace. David was just about to enter his office when he ran into Nathan.

“Are you really going? Who’s going to take over here?”

“You are. And I might not leave at all.”

“Screw you. I told you, I’ll take on some apprentices, and I can handle the werewolves. But I’m shit at dealing with humans, and the rest of this job.”

David pushed the door open. “So am I. Get inside.”

“You’re better at it than I,” Nathan grumbled, but he went ahead.

Grooch rose to his feet as David followed. “Lord Feleke, are you really going—”

“Yes,” David growled. “I just talked to General Clermont, and if he fields the werewolves—which I think he will—I’ll be going with them. For the sake of formality, Nathan will take over the department. I haven’t talked to him yet, but I believe we can count on Greg to do the heavy lifting. I’ll talk to Lane, too, to see if she’d be willing to at least nominally take charge.”

Nathan’s face lit up briefly at that thought, but then fell again. “Think that would work though? Not that she can’t do it, but would the old men around here accept a woman in that position? Executing prisoners isn’t exactly lady-like”

“We’ll see. We should have people for that sort of thing, anyway.”

“Which we still have no budget for,” Grooch muttered, not quite inaudible.

David bared his teeth at him in a wide grin. “Ah, but Mr. Grooch, General Clermont just cut our expenses by a good chunk. The werewolves training down in the courtyard are soldiers now. Their pay is going to have to come out of the army’s coffers, not ours.”

“Does—does Clermont know that?”

“He knows how recruiting works,” David shrugged. “And he really, really wants the werewolves. I’ll bring the matter up in today’s lunch-meeting, but I doubt the general will complain.”

Grooch sat down behind his desk again. “How many werewolves were recruited? Do we have numbers? Names?”

“I expect the army to have them,” David said. “I reckon there were about fifty in the courtyard this morning, but Clermont wants to draft more anyways.”

Grooch flipped through his papers. “I’d really appreciate it if you could come to an agreement with Lord Clermont today, something to give us some planning dependability going forwards.”

David nodded. He couldn’t wait for all these money issues to be someone else’s problem. Judging by Nathan’s face, he wasn’t eager to inherit them. He glared at David, then looked around the room, blowing out his cheeks.

“Where is Greg?” Nathan asked. “Seems like maybe he should be here, if we’re going to dump this in his lap.”

“Meeting Prof. Audenne,” David said. “Probably with Mr. Higgins. Should be back soon.”

“He’ll be thrilled to hear you’re leaving.”

“Can’t really be helped,” David sighed.

“Sure it can. You could just stay.”

“We do need the werewolves at the front,” David pointed out. “And the deal was that if it ever comes to that, I’ll command them.”

“And you want to get out of the office.”

David considered denying it, but there didn’t seem to be much point.

“The whole palace is talking about it,” Grooch said. “It would not be a good look to back out now.”

“I won’t,” David assured him. “Alvin is going. I won’t…”

He shook his head. “I owe it to them to go. All of them.”

“What about Greg?” Nathan asked.

“Greg?” David rolled his eyes. “Greg seemed quite happy to work here. And you’ll be fine, Nathan. It’s not going to be forever. Not even for long. You can do a year or two of government work.”

“Says the man who’s leaving this post after just six months,” Nathan grumbled.

David didn’t really have an answer to that. “Did you pick your apprentices yet?” he changed the topic.

Nathan glared at him. For a moment, David thought his brother would continue the discussion, but then Nathan just shrugged. “Working on it. Why, you got a candidate?”

“I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“Right. You do that. Anything you want me to do in the meantime?”

David looked at Grooch. “Anything on the schedule today?”

The secretary hesitated. “No?” he said slowly. “Nothing I would want to bother your lordships with,” he added.

“Only the werewolf, huh? Fine. In that case, perhaps you could check on Windish, see how Lee’s new friends are settling in?”

“I can do that,” Nathan said, looking relieved.

For a brief moment, David considered asking Grooch what exactly he didn’t want to bother them with, but then he decided against it. He could always help out if Greg complained about it later. “Anything you need me to sign?”

“I did place a stack of documents on your desk, Sir.”

So David spent a good half hour signing and sealing documents—with the new seals, which looked like the tip of the old, broken arrow he had used to use, with some additional lines to make them harder to forge. It had been a huge pain to inform everyone about the change. Captain Reed had even sent one of his lieutenants to make sure that this time, it wasn’t a more elaborate forgery.

Sometimes, the captain’s diligence was annoying, but David had to admit he preferred it over the laissez-faire attitude of some of the other officers he dealt with. He might even have suggested the man for a promotion, had he had the authority to do so. At least Reed never made the same mistake twice. Alternatively, he might have tried to get the captain away from First Camp for his own office, except that with Reed there, at least they could be certain the “forest front” was well managed.

Which wasn’t a small thing.

David scanned another order to Breachpoint—Greg’s handwriting—but generally, his brother and Grooch knew much better what to do than him, anyways. Especially when it came to the bloody paper money.

“Your Lordship, it’s time for your meeting with the dukes,” Grooch interrupted his thoughts.

David raised one hand to show that he had heard the man, then signed the orders and sat back with a sigh. He really wasn’t looking forward to sitting down with George Louis, Desmarais, and whoever else the dukes had invited to today’s lunch. Often, it was one of the Admirals, or whoever represented Clermont’s command at the palace this week. If he was lucky, Clermont would be there himself, to back him up.

George Louis was sure to be thrilled to hear about his plans.

“Sir?” Grooch asked.

“I’m going, I’m going,” David grumbled. At least the food at these meetings was always good.

They were meeting in Duke Desmarais’s chambers today. The guards at the door let David pass without a second glance, and the servants bowed to him with a smile. Their faces darkened when the next Lord followed right behind David: Marquess Picot. As one of the northern Lord Wardens, he was a frequent guest for these meetings. David wasn’t exactly happy to see him, either. He disliked the man on personal grounds and he still didn’t know if the Marquess hadn’t tried to have him killed in that stupid duel with deVale.

Or any of the werewolves.

But since he didn’t know, he bowed to Picot and let him walk first into the actual meeting room. Greg had mentioned that he had earned himself a reputation for stiff formality, and it couldn’t hurt to cultivate that further. Especially since he had no idea how else formality was supposed to look like.

Desmarais was already waiting with his wife, Lady Ariane. She had taken to attend more and more of these gatherings. With them was Admiral d’Aubigny, who looked tense. That didn’t bode well, David thought. D’Aubigny was in charge of the small fleet of airships that was getting them most of their intelligence. If the fleet of the Valoise was ready to launch, Lord Clermont might not get the time he wanted to train the werewolves before they would need to be deployed.

They might not be able to retake Port Neaf in time.

Young Lord Rover followed right behind Picot. David managed not to roll his eyes at the sight. The kid was doing his best, but he had just turned seventeen. He had inherited his father’s title and position at a difficult time.

Thanks to who ever had murdered his father.

The Marques de Burg was next, Lord Warden of Southshire. And a fairly distant relative of General Clermont, for all that he called the general his uncle.

Yes, David had checked the genealogy. Well, he’d asked Grooch about it.

David bowed deeply to all the much higher-ranking lords, and Clermont, too, when he showed up. The last person to stomp into the room was George Louis, who clearly had already caught the rumour. He glared at David and didn’t acknowledge his bow.

At least it wasn’t the full council attending today.

As soon as all the high-born nobles, David and General Clermont had sat down, the servants began bringing in the food. It was a feast fit to feed a much larger party, as always when Desmarais was hosting. Today, it was his wife who gave a brief toast before they dug into the first course. Some kind of fish soup with fresh mussels delivered on the railway line from Deggan.

“So,” George Louis interrupted the silence halfway through the soup course, “before we turn to the latest rumour that’s stirring the court, I hear there is news from the sea, Admiral?”

“The enemy is getting ever better at detecting and destroying our ships and airships, Your Highness. But yes, there is news. It appears the Western Fleet has been reinforced with parts of the Southern Fleet. Because of the aforementioned reasons, there is no way of telling whether the whole of the Southern Fleet is to be moved northwards, or whether the enemy is about to launch the armada against our shores.”

“All the more reason to proceed with our plan,” General Clermont grumbled. He glared at George Louis from his one eye. “We have to take Port Neaf before the Valoise land.”

“And you want to use the werewolves for that?” Duke Desmarais asked.

“They are our only trump card at this point,” the general pointed out. “If we do not field them, we may have to fight the Valoisian expeditionary forces on open ground. That’s not a fight we can win right now. They have more men, better trained and more experienced officers, and more cannons. It would take years, possibly decades to build an army that can face the Valoise in a fair fight. If it can be done at all. I suggest we do everything in our power to avoid giving them one.”

“So we will field monsters?” Marquess Rover asked.

“Unless you have a better idea?”

The kid ducked his head. “I was only thinking—if we use the monsters, won’t the Valoise use the Rot against us again?”

“They have no compunction against that in any case, no matter what the priests may say about it,” Clermont replied.

“So the question that remains is why Lord Feleke wants to go with them,” George Louis said icily.

But before David could try to formulate why he had to go, Picot spoke.

“I believe such was the deal, Your Highness?” the Marquess said. “At Oldstone Castle, General Clermont agreed to lead our armies under the condition that anything supernatural would fall under Lord Feleke’s purview, if memory serves.”

“It does,” David said, for once glad for Picot’s meddling. When George Louis only frowned deeper, he added. “And I intend to honour that deal.”

“You better,” General Clermont growled.

The other lords looked rather appalled by that. “You aren’t seriously considering dropping your post over this, uncle?” de Burg asked.

“That’s not the point. A deal is a deal. And dealing with the monsters is a distraction I don’t need at this point in the campaign. It would be different if I had officers experienced in the matter.”

“So we assign one,” George Louis said. “Surely, one of the commanders from the railway forces would suffice? Or the officers in charge of the werewolves guarding the coast? I don’t see the need for Lord Feleke to personally endanger himself. Surely, finding a replacement who can oversee the department here will be harder.”

“Greg has done a perfectly fine job so far,” David replied.

“That’s debatable,” George Louis grumbled, but David talked over him: “And the werewolves who volunteered as soldiers will expect me to be there.”

When he met George Louis’s eyes, he was suddenly worried. Maybe they shouldn’t be having this discussion in public, as nice as it was to have Picot and Clermont to back him up on the issue. He did wonder whether the duke would straight up order him not to go. And what would happen if he refused to obey.

But it was de Burg who spoke next. “That may be so,” the Marquess said. “But won’t the ones who’ll remain have the same expectations? As His Highness pointed out, as capable as he has proven himself to be, a werewolf cannot currently replace Lord Feleke.”

“Why not?” Lord Rover asked. He turned beet-red when every eye turned to him, but just like his father would have, he stood his ground. “The whole point of the office is to find more werewolves to work for us, isn’t it? So why can’t a werewolf run it? Surely, that’s the best advertisement we can ask for?”

De Burg shook his head. “That is hardly all Lord Feleke has been doing, Marquess Rover. We cannot give a werewolf command over a whole branch of government. Even if it’s only a small one right now. That’s a precedent we should not be setting, not without a lot more forethought.”

“But that doesn’t mean he can’t replace Lord Feleke for a few months,” Rover said. Stubborn like his Sire. “Surely, even the werewolves will understand the importance of the battle currently waging at Port Neaf? Surely, humans will understand the principle of delegation?”

“Delegation still requires somebody to take responsibility at the end of day,” George Louis said. “Someone fully human, preferably.”

He glared at David.

“Nathan will do it.”

Unfortunately, George Louis knew his brothers better than the other nobles. He gave David an arch look. “Really. You already asked him? And he agreed to stay in the palace and take over for you?”

“I did talk to him, yes,” David replied calmly. “He agreed to take on the responsibility as long as necessary. As Marquess Rover pointed out, delegation is an option open to us. And I believe that if I leave for the front, Countess deLande could be persuaded to step in. I hope nobody here is inclined to argue against her credentials for the post?”

“I have no doubt she would be an asset to the cause,” Duke Desmarais cut in. He glanced at his wife. “Since we were talking about precedents. Are you sure Countess deLande would be interested?”

“Quite sure,” David said. “Lord Clermont, since we’re on the matter: Did the army hire the werewolves who were training in the courtyard this morning? In a formal sense, I mean?”

“In a formal sense? No, I didn’t hire them. They volunteered.”

“But is the army going to pay them the same as regular soldiers?”

“Ah. No. I hoped you’d take care of that,” Clermont said. “Seeing how they see silver as a threat.”

“Surely the army could pay them with that new paper money?” Desmarais said. “If you want them to volunteer in larger numbers. Possibly more importantly, we shouldn’t make our regular soldiers think that having them bitten or replaced with werewolves would save us money.”

“You don’t think our human soldiers will feel undervalued if we pay them the same as the monsters?” Picot asked.

“They’ll stop feeling that way the first time they see a werewolf shrug off a shot to the chest,” David said calmly. “Until the Valoise learn to adapt and arm their men with silver, even a weaker werewolf is worth as much as half a dozen cavalrymen.”

“That sounds like a tiny bit of an exaggeration,” George Louis said.

The other lords and one lady stared at the duke.

“Does it? May I remind Your Highness that the werewolves have magic beyond their transformation? Beyond the full moon rage? It’s well known that nothing short of cutting off the head will kill a werewolf, unless it’s a silver blade. Or fire. Even with magic, it’s hard to hurt them, as their immunity to the Rot shows. The healers at Oldston Castle can attest to the same. Even their magic barely worked.”

“Not exactly an advantage,” George Louis pointed out.

“Any magic will be weakened,” David repeated. “Any wound not caused by silver or fire will heal with their next transformation.”

“Making them much more vulnerable on new moon.”

David nearly snapped at him then. He knew the duke knew how valuable the wolves were. The contrariness was getting on his nerves.

Clermont was faster, though. “I do see the advantages,” he growled. “That’s why I want them for the army. If money is the problem, frozen hells, Your Highness you assured us that pay isn’t an issue. Has that changed that we can’t pay a few hundred men more or less?”

“No. We can pay them, quite easily.”

“Then what is the matter, Your Highness? If there’s a problem Lord Feleke has kept from me, I’d rather have it out with than this discussion of technicalities.”

“It’s about the aftermath of the war, General Clermont. If we pay the werewolves as we pay regular soldiers, we acknowledge them in ways that’ll be difficult to take back later. Do we want to live in a country where werewolves are considered equal if not the same as humans?”

“I see,” Clermont said quietly. He glanced at David, shaking his head. “Your Highness, do you want to win this war?”

“That is hardly the question here.”

“No, Your Highness, that is precisely the question. If you do want to win this war, pay your soldiers. All of them. After the war is after the war, though frankly? I’m an old man. A bit stuck in my ways. And even I think it’s recalcitrant, at this point, to try to stop the inevitable. The werewolves are here, and if they weren’t, we wouldn’t be either. For better or worse, the fate of Loegrion is tied to the fate of the werewolves. I’d prefer it if you didn’t damn us all just to keep them down.”

David didn’t look at George Louis. He wasn’t sure if he could keep the smile off his face if he faced him. And he didn’t think it would help his case—or the werewolves’—right now to gloat.

Even though he quite wanted to.

“I’ll note your point, general,” George Louis said coolly.

“I hope you’ll think on it, too,” Clermont grumbled. “Or this’ll be a short campaign.”

He turned back to his plate. “I do see now why you’re so set on going with the werewolves, Lord Feleke.”