Chapter 51
The reports arrived the next afternoon.
Or rather—Prince Valerius arrived with them.
Dara had been seated in the west parlor with her father, enjoying afternoon tea, sugared fruit, and a truly respectable plate of small cakes when the household footman entered and announced His Highness with the carefully controlled expression of someone who had already decided not to react to anything unusual.
Dara looked up.
Valerius stepped inside a moment later, followed by Edric and Leon. Behind them, two attendants carried several neatly bound stacks of documents.
Dara simply stared for one second, then brightened. “You came.”
Valerius inclined his head. “I said the reports would be delivered.”
“Yes, but I assumed it was by messenger.”
“I thought I would bring them myself.”
Naturally.
Because apparently the Crown Prince now delivered government paperwork personally.
Dara stood, crossed the room, and before good sense could assemble an argument, rose slightly on her toes and kissed his cheek.
It was quick.
Light.
Entirely improper enough to be satisfying.
Valerius went very still for half a heartbeat.
Behind him, Leon appeared to forget how breathing worked.
Edric looked at the wall with the disciplined focus of a man choosing professionalism over survival.
Dara lowered herself back onto her heels and smiled. “Thank you.”
Valerius’s gaze remained on her, his expression slowly softening into something warm enough to be dangerous. “You’re welcome.”
Regulus made a quiet sound into his teacup.
Dara turned back toward the table as if she had not just kissed the Crown Prince in the family parlor. “Would Your Highness like to join us for tea?”
“I would.”
“Excellent.”
She glanced toward the attendants. “Reports on the side table, please. Bernard will come collect them shortly.”
The reports were arranged with proper care, though Dara could feel them calling to her from across the room.
Petitions. Maps. Ledgers. Summaries.
Problems waiting to be solved.
Beautiful.
Valerius took the seat beside her rather than across from her, which was very reasonable and also not helpful.
Edric and Leon remained standing near the wall with the resigned dignity of men who had accepted that their prince’s courtship now included tea, paperwork, and being kissed in front of witnesses.
Grace entered silently to refresh the service, her expression as composed as ever, though Dara suspected she would remember this forever.
Regulus recovered first. “Your Highness,” he said warmly, “this is quite generous of you.”
“Lady Lynara wished to begin reviewing materials soon.”
Dara lifted her teacup. “Efficiency is important.”
Leon muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Apparently so.”
Edric’s elbow shifted almost imperceptibly.
Dara pretended not to hear.
She took a sip of tea, then glanced toward the reports again. “I suppose roads and drainage should be reviewed first. Those seem to be where complaints become expensive fastest.”
Regulus blinked. “You have already decided that?”
“Not decided. Suspected.”
Valerius looked amused. “A reasonable suspicion.”
“Thank you.”
Dara lifted her teacup again. “After that, market permits, repeat petitions, and sanitation complaints. Depending on what the reports actually show.”
Regulus looked between them. “I see.”
He very clearly did not.
Dara took a small cake from the plate. “I am not making final plans yet, Father. I am forming preliminary suspicions.”
Cai drifted near the curtain rod. That sounds suspiciously like planning.
Dara ignored him.
Regulus sighed. “Somehow, that does not reassure me.”
Dara set down her cup and reached for a small cake. “Trade roads first. Anything that improves commerce pays for itself faster. Drainage next because unpleasant smells and standing water lower morale.”
“And health,” Valerius said.
“Yes, that too.”
Regulus gave her a look.
Dara took a bite of cake. “What? It is implied.”
She continued once she had swallowed. “Markets need better spacing, cleaner walkways, visible refuse bins, and better lighting. If people are meant to spend money, they should not have to step around mud, waste, or poorly placed crates to do it.”
Valerius nodded. “Reasonable.”
“Very.”
Regulus leaned back slightly, watching her with a mixture of pride and concern. “And after that?”
Dara’s eyes gleamed. “Attractions.”
Cai froze near the curtain rod. Oh, dear.
Dara ignored him.
Valerius’s brows lifted slightly. “Attractions.”
“Yes. Everbloom is doing well, but one destination cannot carry the entire city’s leisure economy. Ambervale needs reasons for people to visit multiple districts.”
Regulus opened his mouth, closed it, and wisely reached for tea.
Dara leaned forward slightly, warming to the subject. “An aquarium.”
Leon blinked.
Edric’s attention shifted despite his best efforts.
Valerius looked at her for one measured moment. “You received temporary authority yesterday, and today you are already planning an aquarium.”
“It is important to think ahead.”
“Clearly.”
“It should be in a riverside district or somewhere near a canal,” she said. “Water access matters. Glass tanks. Rare fish. Water plants. Perhaps glowing river creatures if they are safe. It should be beautiful, of course, but also informative.”
“Informative,” her father repeated.
“Yes. People should understand what exists beyond what they eat or fear.”
Valerius looked at her then—properly looked at her.
Dara noticed, then chose to continue before he could say something too perceptive. “And a menagerie.”
Regulus coughed. “A what?”
“A proper one,” Dara said quickly. “Not sad cages. Absolutely not. Wide enclosures. Healthy care. Birds, gentle beasts, rare creatures people may never otherwise see.”
Valerius’s gaze remained steady. “Where would you place it?”
“Outer district,” she said at once. “Greener land. More room. Less noise. Close enough for families to visit, far enough that any unpleasant smells do not ruin the shopping district.”
Leon seemed to recover enough to mutter, “Practical.”
Dara pointed a cake fork at him. “Exactly.”
Leon looked startled to have been included.
Dara continued, “And injured animals.”
Regulus stared. “You want to house injured animals.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Where else would they go?”
The room went quiet for half a second.
Dara frowned slightly, as though the answer should have been obvious.
“If a creature can recover and return to the wild, good. If it cannot, then it can be cared for. Rare animals especially. If rare creatures vanish, then part of the kingdom’s natural wealth disappears with them.”
Cai drifted down beside her chair. “This is not evil.”
Dara lifted her teacup. It is strategic stewardship.
“That is worse,” Cai said.
Valerius studied her with an expression she did not entirely trust. “You are not simply building attractions.”
Dara kept her face composed. “No?”
“You are building institutions.”
That was unfortunately accurate.
She took another sip of tea. “They will produce revenue.”
“And educate visitors.”
“Yes.”
“And preserve rare creatures.”
“Also yes.”
“And improve the reputation of the districts that host them.”
“Obviously.”
Valerius’s mouth curved faintly. “Ambitious.”
“Efficient.”
Regulus looked toward the reports as if they had multiplied when he wasn’t watching. “My dear,” he said carefully, “perhaps begin with roads before collecting rare beasts.”
“I am beginning with roads.”
“And fish.”
“Fish do not prevent road repair.”
“Do they require funding?”
“Everything requires funding.”
Regulus sighed.
Valerius looked far too entertained.
Dara turned to him. “What do you think?”
“Of the aquarium or the menagerie?”
“Both.”
He considered the question seriously, which she appreciated.
“The aquarium would best serve a riverside district already connected to trade. If the waterway requires restoration, the attraction could justify the expense.”
Dara’s hand lifted at once. “Yes.”
Regulus muttered, “Do not encourage her.”
Valerius continued, “The menagerie should be placed where expansion is possible. It would require handlers, healers, secure boundaries, and regulations regarding dangerous species.”
“Gentle creatures first,” Dara agreed. “Rare birds. Deer-like beasts if our region has interesting ones. Small magical creatures that do not bite children.”
Edric finally spoke. “There are protected silver-plumed cranes in the marshlands east of the city. Injured ones are sometimes brought to local healers, but there is no permanent sanctuary.”
Dara turned toward him immediately. “Excellent. Mark that.”
Edric blinked. “My lady?”
“The cranes. Sanctuary potential. Menagerie candidate.”
Leon looked at Edric. “You helped.”
Edric looked resigned. “I answered.”
“You helped.”
Dara ignored them both. “What else?”
Leon glanced at Valerius, then sighed. “There are dusk foxes in the northern orchards. Small. Clever. Farmers complain they steal fruit.”
“Adorable thieves,” Dara said. “Possible, if they can be contained.”
“They are difficult to contain.”
“Then we build better enclosures.”
Valerius looked at Leon.
Leon looked betrayed.
Regulus rested his forehead briefly against two fingers.
Dara smiled into her tea.
This was delightful.
Afternoon light spilled across the parlor, catching the polished table, the teacups, the royal reports stacked neatly nearby, and the faces of several men who were realizing—some faster than others—that temporary governess did not mean temporary inconvenience.
It meant Dara had plans. Many plans. Pretty, expensive, useful, possibly disastrous plans.
The best kind.
Grace reentered with a fresh plate of cakes, and Dara brightened. “Oh good.”
Valerius quietly moved the plate closer to her before anyone else could. She glanced at him, but he said nothing, so she selected one with sugared cream and decided, generously, not to comment on how quickly he was learning.
Regulus watched the exchange with a careful expression that suggested several thoughts were occurring to him at once, not all of which he wished to examine.
Dara turned back to the reports. “Obviously, I will review the files before making formal proposals.”
“Obviously,” Valerius said.
“But if there is a suitable riverside district in those maps, I want it marked. The outer districts with available green space as well. And any existing animal handlers, healers, or people with experience caring for magical beasts.”
Leon whispered, “We are doing this.”
Edric whispered back, “Apparently.”
Dara smiled.
Cai groaned.
Regulus sighed.
And Valerius, seated beside her with the calm of a man who had knowingly handed a builder the authority to reshape a city, simply reached for his tea.
Dara looked at him sidelong. “You are remarkably calm.”
“I knew what I agreed to.”
“No,” Leon said under his breath. “You did not.”
Valerius ignored him.
Dara’s smile widened. “Good.”
Then she looked once more toward the reports waiting on the side table, her mind already filling with roads, markets, lanterns, waterways, enclosures, glass tanks, and a city made cleaner, prettier, busier, and far more troublesome for every official who had allowed it to rot.
This evening, the reports would be reviewed. Next week, the appointment would begin.
And after that—
Ambervale would become very, very interesting.