The silence that followed the Grand Chamberlain's arrest wasn't born of respect—it was pure, unadulterated terror. The nobles at the Gala stared into their wine chalices as if they contained slow-acting poison. In a way, they did; if Elara von Lexen decided to look into their ledgers, the "poison" of bankruptcy would finish them all by morning.
Kaelen stepped toward me, stepping over a discarded ceremonial silk cape as if it were trash. "'Principal Auditress,' hm? You certainly have a flair for the dramatic, Elara."
"I have a flair for math that actually adds up, Prince," I retorted, snapping my ledger shut with a sound like a gunshot. "And right now, the Imperial Treasury has a hole in it the size of a volcanic crater. If I don't start plugging the leaks, my 'severance package' is going to be made of rocks and broken promises."
Kaelen arched a dark eyebrow. "Severance package? You've just seized the highest financial authority in the realm, and you're already talking about leaving?"
Oh, my dear Assassin Prince, I thought, giving him my most innocent, villainous smirk. If only you knew I'm already calculating the fuel costs for a galleon headed to the Southern Isles.
"A forward-thinking auditor always looks for the emergency exit," I said instead. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a religious cult to bankrupt."
The Temple Audit
As the party died a slow, awkward death, Hans and I headed straight for the Chamberlain's private wing. I wasn't looking for evidence of heresy—theology doesn't pay for beachfront villas. I was looking for Property Deeds.
"Hans, crack that safe. If he used his ordination date as the combination, I'm suing him for lack of imagination."
Click. Open on the first try.
"Pathetic," I whispered, leafing through the scrolls. "Let's see... Black gold from the Northern Mines, lease agreements for half the taverns in the Capital, and... Oh! Look at this. An offshore trust fund registered to a shell company in the Free Islands."
"Is it illegal, milady?" Hans asked, already stuffing silk pouches of gold coins into a reinforced crate.
"It's worse, Hans. It's un-taxed. The original sin of every tax evader," I replied, my eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "But now that the Chamberlain is... 'unavailable'... these assets technically have no legal owner. According to the Crown's Emergency Liquidation Clause, they fall under the jurisdiction of the Principal Auditress. Which means, they're mine."
The Prince's Shadow
Just as I was tucking a particularly lucrative shipping contract into my magical storage ring—which was rapidly becoming my private bank vault—the door creaked. Kaelen was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Are you confiscating, or are you embezzling, Elara? There's a very thin line, and you're dancing on it in very expensive heels."
I turned slowly, smoothing my skirt. "I am securing the Empire's future, Kaelen. These funds will pay the soldiers you've stationed at the border. And if a small... 'administrative fee'... happens to find its way into my personal accounts, who am I to argue with destiny?"
Kaelen stepped into the room, the scent of leather and rain following him. "The King wants to see you. Tomorrow morning. He wants you to give the rest of the nobility the same 'treatment.' He wants you to be his fiscal bloodhound."
A chill went down my spine. Being the King's bloodhound meant staying in the Capital. It meant being a target. It meant not retiring.
"The King wants an auditor?" I straightened my collar. "I'll give him an audit. But tell him this: by the time I'm done with his Dukes, there won't be enough gold left in this kingdom to buy a tin crown. And then, perhaps, you'll all finally let me retire in peace."
Kaelen chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that vibrated in the small room. "I highly doubt I'll ever let you go, Elara. You're the only person in this world who knows exactly what I'm worth. Down to the last copper."