Chapter 17
The west sitting room felt like a command center even in the morning light.
Dara stepped through the doorway with Grace at her side and took in the familiar arrangement: maps still spread across the central table, reports stacked in neat piles, the chairs positioned with the same tactical precision that had defined the space for weeks now.
Some rooms stopped being rooms and became purposes instead.
This one had made that transition weeks ago.
Valerius stood near the table with Leon and Edric flanking him. He looked—Dara searched for the right word—functional. Rested. Back to the controlled competence that seemed to be his default state when not actively collapsing from exhaustion.
Good.
She needed him to be functional for this.
Her father sat in one of the chairs near the window, already present, his expression carefully neutral in the way it became when he was trying very hard not to look worried.
That was less good.
Bernard stood near the side table, arranging tea with the quiet efficiency of a man who understood that difficult conversations went better with refreshments.
Dara crossed to her usual seat and sat.
Grace moved to stand near the door, ready but unobtrusive.
The room settled.
Valerius looked at each of them once, then began without preamble.
"Lord Silas Montrose has been captured and is currently being held in secure Crown detention. Three of the four archmages hired to facilitate the kidnapping attempt on Lady Lynara have also been taken into custody. Evidence has been secured."
Direct.
Clean.
Professional.
Exactly what Dara had expected from someone who had spent almost two weeks hunting a fleeing criminal and looked far too pleased about the successful conclusion.
Her father exhaled slowly.
Dara kept her expression composed and asked, "The fourth archmage?"
Valerius's gaze shifted to her. "Escaped. He used a personal emergency teleportation working—expensive, single-use, prepared in advance. We disrupted his primary circle, but the backup activated before we could prevent it."
One still out there, then.
Dara filed that away under reasons the armed guards are staying.
"Do we know where he went?" she asked.
"No." Valerius's tone remained even. "Teleportation of that nature doesn't leave directional traces. However, he's a mercenary. His contract failed. His employer is captured. The logical course is to leave the region entirely rather than remain where he has no further income and significant risk."
Logical.
Also not guaranteed.
Dara nodded once. "Understood."
Valerius continued.
"We tracked Silas from Ambervale through Millhaven and finally to Brackford—a coastal town five days west. He had arranged passage on a ship bound for Velthara, a foreign city-state beyond Crown jurisdiction. We reached him two hours before departure."
Her father leaned forward slightly. "And the archmages were with him?"
"Yes." Valerius glanced at Leon, who took over smoothly.
“Four total,” Leon said. “The same four suspected in the kidnapping attempt. One specialized in offensive fire magic. Another in debuffs—sleep spells, confusion, and blinding effects. The third was an illusion caster. The fourth appears to have acted as coordinator, with defensive magic and teleportation capability.”
Dara's jaw tightened.
Those bastards.
The ones who had been waiting at the trap she'd walked into. The mages she hadn't expected. Who had put her and every guard close enough to protect her to sleep.
And now three of them were sitting in Crown cells.
Excellent.
"The battle was brief," Valerius said, reclaiming the narrative. "We engaged them in the inn where Montrose was hiding. Leon and two guards handled the fire mage. Edric engaged the sleep caster. I dealt with the illusion mage and the coordinator."
He said it like it had been a minor administrative task rather than a fight against four hired archmages.
Dara looked from him to Leon and Edric.
All three of them looked entirely unbothered by the fact that they had just walked into an inn and taken down four professional combat mages.
Her life had become very strange.
"Light magic is effective against archmages," Valerius added, as though that explained everything.
"Dispelling and negation work well against structured castings.
The fire mage and sleep caster surrendered once their primary workings failed.
The illusion mage attempted to flee and was subdued.
The coordinator used his emergency escape before we could prevent it. "
Bernard, who had been listening with his usual grave attention, said quietly, "Three out of four is an excellent result."
"Yes," Valerius agreed.
Regulus cleared his throat. "And Lord Montrose himself?"
"Captured without resistance," Valerius said. "He was waiting in his room with two sealed trunks. No weapons. No fight. Once the archmages fell, he surrendered immediately."
Dara could picture it perfectly.
Montrose sitting in his expensive inn room, waiting for a ship that would carry him to safety, protected by four hired mages who were very good at their jobs right up until they met someone whose magic specifically countered theirs.
No wonder he'd looked so smug for so long.
He had actually thought he would get away with it.
"The trunks," Bernard said.
Valerius nodded. "Office records. Correspondence. Financial documents. Everything Montrose thought he might need as either insurance or leverage depending on how his flight played out."
That made sense.
Horrible, practical sense.
A man fleeing didn't just run.
He ran with proof.
"The contents are being examined now," Valerius continued. "But the initial review confirms what we suspected. The corruption in the governor's office is not new. It predates Lord Montrose's involvement by at least five years."
The room went very still.
Dara looked at her father.
Regulus's expression had gone carefully blank.
Valerius, to his credit, did not soften the blow.
"Montrose exploited an existing network.
He did not create it. Six clerks have been identified as active participants: Hadlin Crosse, Merrin Vey, Osric Thane, Perrin Dall, Kerra Wist, and Jory Lenn.
All have been taken into custody. Crosse attempted to flee and was apprehended.
The others surrendered when confronted with evidence. "
Six.
Six people working in her father's office.
For over five years.
Dara sat back slightly and let that settle.
Over five years of skimming. Altering records. Smoothing over inconsistencies. Creating the infrastructure that allowed men like Silas Montrose to operate with impunity.
And her father had not noticed.
Or had not cared to notice.
She was not sure which was worse.
Regulus said, very quietly, "I see."
Valerius's gaze remained steady. "The interrogations are ongoing. The three captured archmages are cooperating—they're mercenaries, not loyalists. What they provide will help us understand the full scope of Montrose's actions and the broader network that enabled him."
"And the Crown's response?" Bernard asked.
Valerius looked at him, then at Regulus.
"A Crown auditor will arrive in two weeks to conduct a full investigation of the governor's office, its practices, and its oversight. All records, personnel, and processes will be examined."
Regulus's hands tightened slightly on the arms of his chair.
Valerius continued with the same professional calm.
"Governor Voss, your position is pending the results of that investigation. The evidence currently suggests passive negligence rather than active participation in the corruption. However, negligence of this scale over this duration carries consequences."
There it was.
Clean.
Direct.
Utterly damning.
Dara watched her father absorb that.
Watched him sit in his chair in his own estate and hear the Crown Prince—politely, respectfully, but unambiguously—tell him that his career was in jeopardy.
That over five years of not paying attention had finally caught up with him.
She should have felt… something. Grief, perhaps. Anger. Loyalty. She was not sure. Regulus was not her real father, not truly—but he was Lynara’s, and Dara had Lynara’s memories.
More than that, she had lived in this household for almost three months now. Long enough for his presence to become familiar. Long enough for the idea of him being ruined to sit in her chest in a way she did not quite know what to do with.
Regulus had spoiled his daughter. Never disciplined her. Let her do whatever she wanted with the family funds. He had been distant, yes, but not unkind. And recently—after everything—he had looked proud of her. Worried for her.
It was complicated. She cared. Not in the way a daughter should care for a father, maybe, but she cared.
She had grown used to his complete lack of interference in her projects, his tendency to delegate everything and trust that competent people would handle competent things. It was not affection, exactly.
But it mattered more than she liked to admit.
And now he might lose everything.
Dara looked at Valerius. "What happens to the estate if my father is removed from his position?"
The question came out more blunt than she had intended.
Practical. Not emotional.
Exactly the way she preferred difficult questions.
Valerius met her gaze. "That depends on the findings. If the governor is found negligent but not corrupt, he may be removed from office but retain personal assets. If active participation is proven, seizure of funds becomes possible."
Seizure of funds.
Dara turned that over in her mind.
If the Crown seized their money...
Her mental calculation ran faster than her expression could follow.
Technically, there were advantages. Instant progress toward bankruptcy. One massive item off her list. Her goal of wasting the fortune accomplished by government intervention rather than personal effort.
But then came the unacceptable part. No more dresses. No more boba expansion. No more comfort projects. Road maintenance would suffer. The destination garden might never open. Her entire carefully constructed life of selfish luxury would collapse.
Mixed feelings did not begin to cover it.
"I see," she said.
Bernard, who knew her far too well, gave her a look that suggested he had followed at least part of that internal calculation and was choosing not to comment.
Wise man.
Her father said quietly, "I will cooperate fully with the Crown auditor."
Valerius inclined his head. "That is appreciated."
The formality of it was almost painful.
Dara folded her hands in her lap and asked the next question. "Regarding the timeline for the interrogation results. When will we know what the archmages provide?"
"Initial reports within three days," Valerius said. "Full analysis by the time the auditor arrives. The archmages are being questioned separately to prevent coordination. What one provides will be cross-referenced against the others."
"And the escaped archmage?" Dara asked. "What is the assessment of the continued threat?"
Valerius's expression shifted slightly—something that might have been approval for the directness of the question.
"Low," he said. "He's a mercenary. He has no reason to remain in the region and more significant reasons to leave. We are not actively tracking him, but the security detail will remain in place as a precaution until the interrogations confirm there are no other connected threats."
So the guards were staying.
Dara had expected that.
The room fell quiet for a moment.
Then her father spoke. “And when the auditor arrives?
“You will be formally questioned,” Valerius said. “I recommend you prepare a full account of your administrative practices, oversight protocols, and any concerns you may have had about office operations during the relevant period.”
Regulus nodded slowly. "I will."
He looked older suddenly.
Tired.
Like a man who had finally understood that comfortable ignorance carried a price.
Dara looked away.
Valerius straightened slightly. "That concludes the primary report. If there are further questions, I am available. Otherwise, I will be coordinating with the Crown Annex on interrogation results and auditor preparations."
Bernard bowed at once. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Her father rose slowly. “Yes. Thank you.”
He left without looking at anyone.
Valerius was watching her.
She looked back at him and said, with perfect composure, "Thank you for the report, Your Highness. It was thorough."
His expression suggested he heard what she had not said.
That she was still processing this. That it was more difficult than she wanted it to be. That her life had once again refused to settle into one predictable shape.
"You're welcome," he said.
Dara stood. "Grace."
Grace stepped forward from near the door.
"I need to review the garden completion reports," Dara said.
Because if the Crown was going to seize their funds, she wanted that destination garden finished first.
Priorities.
Always priorities.
She walked toward the door with Grace following behind, then paused long enough to give Valerius a precise curtsey. “Your Highness.”
Bernard remained to clear the tea service. Leon and Edric had taken positions near the map table, already moving on to whatever came next in the investigation.
Valerius watched her leave.
She felt his gaze but did not look back.
The hallway outside was quieter. Calmer. Less full of consequences and uncomfortable truths.
Dara took a breath.
Her father might lose his position. The Crown might seize their funds. The household might change entirely.
And yet... exile routes remained available. Multiple ones. Fund seizure would make bankruptcy easier—one goal accomplished by government intervention instead of personal effort. Embarrassing for the family, certainly. But not impossible to work with.
She could still leave. Still claim her billion dollars. Still go home.
The variables had shifted. The timeline was murkier. But the goal itself? Still achievable.
So why did it feel more complicated than it should?
Dara walked through the corridor with Grace at her side and thought about fathers, and funds, and the increasingly tangled question of what she actually wanted her future to look like.
Everything was manageable if one approached it practically enough.
Dara almost believed that.
Almost.