Before dawn, Hajin aligned four clean sheets of drafting parchment across the command table beside the eastern window.
Each page bore an identical heading, an activation date, an expiration limit, and an empty lower space for Lana's witness stamp.
"No temporary lord will sit in my chair while I am gone," Hajin declared, addressing the four officers standing before him.
"The region will not become a collection of guesses or opportunistic power plays while our wagon travels south."
"Then give me the civil page," Marrick replied, stepping forward with his ink horn uncapped.
"Let me maintain the existing public kitchens and clinic supplies without pretending I can manufacture new provincial laws in your absence."
Hajin slid the first page across the polished planks, his fingers tapping the crisp black margins.
The civil document preserved civilian wages, food allocations, clinic reserves, road repair budgets, and the emergency Flint audit reserves.
