The Imperial Palace was a gold-leafed deathtrap. As I walked through the vaulted corridors toward the King's private study, the clicking of my heels sounded like a countdown.
Six months until the "Hero" arrives to execute the Villainess, I reminded myself. Current liquid assets: 40,000 Gold Dragons. Goal: 1,000,000 and a boat with a very fast engine.
The heavy oak doors swung open. King Valerius wasn't wearing his crown; he was leaning over a map of the continent, looking like a man who hadn't slept since the Great Inflation of '92.
"Lady Elara," he rasped without looking up. "The Prince tells me you've turned the Treasury's deficit into a surplus overnight by 'liquidating' the Church's assets."
"I merely corrected a clerical error, Your Majesty," I said, curtsying just enough to be polite but not enough to look desperate. "The Church forgot they were a non-profit. I reminded them."
The King finally looked at me. His eyes were sharp, calculating. "My nobles are terrified of you. They say you see through walls. They say you know the serial numbers of every coin in their private vaults."
"I don't need to see through walls to know they're stealing, Sire. I just need to see their lifestyle expenses compared to their declared tax brackets. The math never lies."
I stepped closer to the desk, laying a new ledger down. This wasn't the "Official" one. This was my Strategy for Survival.
"Your Majesty, if you want to fix this Empire, stop trying to tax the peasants. They have nothing left but dirt. Tax the Dukes. Give me a 'Principal Mandate' to audit every Great House in the Realm. I will recover enough gold to fund your wars for a decade."
The King narrowed his eyes. "And what do you want in exchange, Elara? No one works this hard for 'loyalty'."
"A full pardon," I said instantly. "And a letter of marque. When I'm done fixing your books, I want the right to retire to the Southern Isles with my 'personal savings'—no questions asked."
The King laughed, a dry, hacking sound. "You want to rob my nobles and then run away with the loot? You truly are a Villainess."
"I prefer the term 'Highly Paid Consultant'," I smirked.
The Prince's Shadow
As I left the study, Kaelen was waiting in the hallway, spinning a silver dagger between his fingers.
"The Southern Isles, Elara? Really?" he asked, his voice low. "It's a bit lonely for a woman who just became the most powerful person in the Capital."
"I like the sun," I replied, walking past him. "And I like not being executed by the 'Hero' when he arrives to 'save' the Kingdom from me."
Kaelen caught my wrist, stopping me. His touch was warm, but his gaze was ice. "The Hero isn't the one you should be worried about. The nobles you're about to audit? They don't hire lawyers. They hire assassins."
I pulled my hand back and patted my ledger. "Let them come. I've already calculated the cost of my funeral, Kaelen. It's incredibly expensive. They can't afford to kill me yet."