Chapter 48
Later that afternoon, Grace entered Dara’s bedroom with a sealed envelope resting neatly on a silver tray.
“My lady,” she said, bowing slightly. “A letter has arrived from His Highness’s estate.”
Dara, who had been seated near the window pretending not to think about the previous evening, looked up at once. “Oh?”
Grace’s expression remained perfectly neutral. “Yes, my lady.”
That neutrality was suspicious.
Dara accepted the envelope with as much dignity as one could reasonably manage while immediately recognizing the royal seal pressed into the wax. “Thank you, Grace.”
Grace curtsied and withdrew. The moment the door closed, Dara broke the seal and read quickly through the formal lines.
Then stopped.
Then read them again.
Temporary Governess of Ambervale.
Beginning next week.
Under Crown oversight.
Report summaries to be delivered tomorrow evening.
For one breath, Dara was still.
Then she made a sound that was neither a laugh nor a gasp, but something dangerously close to both, clutched the letter to her chest, and fell backward onto the bed. “My plans are working.”
Cai appeared in a shimmer of gold above the dressing table. “Oh no.”
Dara laughed, neither politely nor elegantly.
She laughed like a woman who had just been handed an entire city and intended to make that everyone’s problem.
“It worked,” she said, holding the letter above her face. “He actually did it.”
“Of course he did,” Cai said. “You asked while being adorable and half-asleep.”
“I was not adorable.”
“You were requesting regional authority while snuggling.”
“I was tired.”
“You were weaponized softness.”
Dara ignored that and sat up quickly, eyes bright.
“Roads first,” she said. “The bad ones. Especially trade routes and districts with drainage complaints. Then markets. Permit delays. Stall organization. Vendor placement. Clean walkways. Proper refuse bins.”
Cai stared at her.
“And lighting,” she continued, pointing with the letter. “More lanterns. Better patrol visibility. And flowers. Not everywhere, obviously. That would be excessive.”
Cai opened his mouth.
Dara gasped. “Oh!”
“What now?”
“We need more attractions.”
Cai slowly closed his mouth.
Dara slid off the bed and began pacing. “One garden is good, but not enough. Everbloom can’t carry the entire city’s leisure economy by itself. We need district-specific attractions. Something that gives people a reason to visit different areas.”
“That sounds suspiciously like city planning.”
“It is city domination.”
“It is tourism.”
“Strategic tourism.”
Cai folded his tiny arms.
Dara continued, already delighted. “An aquarium!”
Cai blinked. “What?”
“Aquarium. A beautiful one. Glass tanks, rare river fish, glowing water plants, educational displays. Children would love it. Nobles would pretend it was educational so they could attend without admitting they liked fish.”
“That is extremely specific.”
“And a zoo.”
“Lynara.”
“No, a tasteful one. Not sad cages. A proper menagerie. Wide enclosures. Rare birds. Gentle magical beasts. Maybe a petting area, if the creatures are not poisonous.”
Cai stared. “You are designing a family attraction.”
“I am designing civic enrichment.”
“You are designing a zoo.”
“And an aquarium,” Dara said firmly. “In separate districts. Spread the traffic.”
Cai floated after her as she paced faster. “What else?”
“A botanical conservatory,” she said. “Glasshouse. Rare flowers. Seasonal exhibits. Possibly medicinal herbs. That one can justify itself through education and apothecary support.”
“Of course.”
“An open-air amphitheater for plays and music. Better than tragic saint plays, preferably.”
“That sounds personal.”
“It is public service.”
Cai sighed.
Dara snapped her fingers. “The bathhouses need to be upgraded. Proper ones. With structure. And… added services. Spa services.”
He blinked. “Of course.”
“Also a lantern canal walk, if the waterway is salvageable. Evening boat rides. Fruit drinks. Curated snacks.”
“You are building a vacation city.”
“I am building an empire.”
“With fish.”
“With revenue streams.”
Cai drifted directly into her path. “Lyn.”
Dara stopped. “What?”
“Are you forgetting something again?”
She blinked at him. “What?”
His expression flattened. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing evil stuff instead of building more attractions?”
Dara paused, then looked from the letter to the imaginary aquarium already forming in her mind—with excellent lighting, charming fish-shaped signage, and absolutely no regard for fiscal restraint.
“Oh,” she said.
Cai waited.
Dara nodded with great seriousness. “Well, I can multitask. No need to worry.”
“That is exactly when I worry.”
She folded the appointment order carefully, then held it to her chest once more, smiling in a way that would have alarmed every council member in Ambervale if they had seen it.
“Come on,” she said, turning toward the door. “I need to talk to Bernard and start getting everything arranged.”
Cai groaned.
Dara swept out of the room with the bright excitement of a woman who had temporarily forgotten she was supposed to be engineering her own exile.
Behind her, Cai muttered, “The villainess wants an aquarium.”
Dara called back without slowing, “Two attractions minimum per reform cycle!”
Cai stared after her for a moment before vanishing in a shimmer of gold.
Ambervale, he feared, had no idea what was coming.