Chapter 64
Two days passed.
Lady Greenmoor’s records arrived the next morning.
Incomplete, but not empty.
Dara found that expected.
More importantly, other things had begun to move. Permit logs were clearing faster. Road reports were being rewritten. Funding pledges were arriving with surprising enthusiasm.
Pressure worked.
Even when applied quietly.
By late afternoon, the drawing room had been arranged once more: tea, desserts, fruit tarts, honey cakes, and soft pastries.
No popcorn chicken this time.
Dara had decided, briefly, that not every meeting required it.
Grace stood nearby, composed as ever. Bernard remained by the window. Elowra held her ledger, already open. Marek stood near the door, as always.
A knock came.
“Enter.”
Councilwoman Maera Tullis stepped inside and paused slightly upon seeing the room—not because it was intimidating, but because it was unexpectedly formal.
She bowed. “My lady.”
Dara rose just enough. “Councilwoman Tullis.”
Dara inclined her head slightly, then gestured toward the seat across from her. “Please. Sit.”
Dara resumed her seat only after Tullis did.
Tullis’s posture was straight but not rigid. Her clothing was modest compared to the others—practical, well-kept, and without unnecessary embellishment.
Her eyes, however, were watchful—cautious, used to being overlooked.
Grace poured tea, hot this time, simple and clean.
Dara waited until the cup was set before speaking.
“You’ve submitted fourteen petitions in the last six months.”
Tullis stilled. “…Yes, my lady.”
“Eight regarding sanitation. Three regarding drainage overflow. Three regarding housing complaints.”
Tullis’s fingers tightened slightly around her cup. “Yes.”
Dara reached for a small stack of documents and placed them on the table one by one. “Returned. Delayed. Redirected. Filed without action.”
Tullis looked down at them. Recognition flickered across her face, followed by something quieter.
Resignation.
“…Yes, my lady.”
Dara watched her. “You escalated Tanner’s Lane three times.”
Tullis swallowed. “Yes.”
“Lower Bracken twice.”
“…Yes.”
“Eastmere repeatedly.”
Tullis did not answer this time.
She only nodded.
“And each time,” Dara said, “someone returned the file.”
Silence.
Tullis’s voice, when it came, was steady but softer. “Yes, my lady.”
No excuses. No deflection.
Just truth.
Good.
Dara leaned back slightly. “That will not happen again.”
Tullis looked up, not startled or hopeful, only uncertain. “My lady?”
“I reviewed your records.”
A pause.
“There are no irregular payments. No unexplained assets. No private contracts tied to your office. No hidden affiliations.”
Tullis stared at her.
Dara continued calmly, “I found nothing to correct.”
That broke something.
Not visibly. Not dramatically.
But the tension in Tullis’s shoulders shifted.
“You investigated me?”
“Yes.”
Tullis let out a small breath. “I see.”
Dara picked up her tea. “I investigate everyone.”
A sip.
Calm. Measured.
Tullis lowered her gaze briefly. “…That is fair.”
Dara set her cup down. “You tried.”
Tullis froze.
The words landed harder than anything else in the room.
Not accusation. Not pressure.
Acknowledgment.
Her fingers tightened around the cup again. “I did what I could.”
“Yes,” Dara said. “You escalated what others ignored.”
“There are limits to what my position allows.”
“I’m aware.”
Silence stretched between them, but this time it was not sharp.
It was open.
Dara tapped one of the documents lightly. “These repeat complaints indicate a pattern. They indicate failure. They also indicate where to begin.”
Tullis’s gaze lifted.
Just a little.
Dara held it. “I do not punish competence, Councilwoman. I intend to use it.”
There was the shift.
Subtle, but unmistakable.
Tullis straightened, not defensively or cautiously, but with purpose. “My lady… what would you have me do?”
Dara allowed the smallest smile. “Continue.”
Tullis blinked. “…Continue?”
“Yes.” Dara gestured toward Elowra. “You will work with my secretary to compile a full index of repeat petitions.”
Tullis’s expression sharpened. “By district?”
“By severity first, then district.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Identify the most urgent cases. Prioritize sanitation, drainage, and housing. List every instance where a report was returned without action.”
A pause.
Tullis’s jaw set slightly. “…Understood.”
“Include names.”
Silence.
Then, “Yes, my lady.”
There it was.
Not fear. Not coercion.
Commitment.
Dara leaned back again. “Good.”
Grace stepped forward to offer the desserts. Tullis hesitated, then accepted a small fruit tart carefully, like someone who was not used to being invited to enjoy things in rooms like this.
Dara picked up a pastry of her own.
The atmosphere had changed.
Not lighter.
Steadier.
Cai’s voice drifted faintly. “You didn’t threaten her.”
Dara did not react. She didn’t require correction.
Tullis took a small bite of the tart, her shoulders relaxing just slightly.
“Thank you, my lady,” she said quietly.
Dara nodded once. “That will be all for today.”
Tullis rose, and this time her bow was deeper—not out of obligation, but out of respect. “My lady.”
She left, and the door closed softly behind her.
Silence settled again.
Bernard spoke first. “She will be loyal.”
“Yes.”
Elowra glanced at her notes. “And efficient.”
“Yes.”
Marek said nothing, but his presence remained steady.
Dara reached for her tea.
Warm. Simple. Clean.
“One useful honest person,” she said quietly, “is worth three frightened guilty ones.”
Cai hummed in agreement. “Look at you. Building a proper council.”
Dara took a slow sip.
Ambervale, it seemed, might finally start working.