Chapter 49
Dara found Bernard in the household records room.
Of course she did.
If the estate had a heart, perhaps it beat in the kitchens or the gardens or the family chapel.
If it had a brain, however, it was undoubtedly this room—quiet, orderly, lined with shelves of ledgers, household accounts, correspondence boxes, inventories, and neatly tied bundles of documents that had somehow survived years of Regulus Voss’s administrative avoidance.
Bernard stood near the long table at the center of the room, reviewing a stack of account papers with the calm precision of a man who had never once been defeated by ink, incompetence, or noble irresponsibility.
He looked up the moment she entered. “My lady.”
“Bernard.”
Dara stepped inside, appointment order in hand.
Cai appeared in a shimmer of gold near the upper shelf, lounging sideways in the air as though official announcements were theater and he had secured the best seat in the house.
Bernard’s eyes flicked very briefly toward the empty space beside the shelves.
Naturally, he saw nothing.
Dara lifted the folded order. “I have news.”
Bernard’s expression did not change, which meant he had already suspected something and was waiting for confirmation.
Efficient.
“The Crown Prince has appointed me temporary governess of Ambervale,” she said. “The role begins next week, while the permanent governorship remains vacant.”
For one still second, the room held its breath.
Then Bernard bowed.
Not deeply.
Not dramatically.
But with a weight that made the gesture feel far more significant than most courtly displays Dara had seen.
“Congratulations, my lady.”
Dara blinked.
That had been sincere.
A little too sincere.
“Thank you.”
Cai tilted his head. “He’s proud.”
Dara ignored him.
Bernard straightened. “May I ask the scope of authority granted?”
“Temporary administrative authority over civic repairs, petition review, district coordination, emergency public works, and council summons related to those matters.” Dara unfolded the letter and glanced down. “Under Crown oversight.”
Bernard’s brows rose by the smallest amount—which, for him, was practically a scream. “A considerable appointment.”
“Yes.” Dara folded the letter again. “Which means there will be more work.”
“Naturally.”
“I would like your help, if you are interested.”
Bernard stared at her—not blankly, not confused, simply… still.
Dara shifted slightly. “I mean, I know you already manage the household, and I do not wish to assume you have endless time simply because you are terrifyingly competent.”
Cai snorted. “Accurate.”
“But if you are willing,” Dara continued, “I would like you involved in organizing reports, records, staffing needs, schedules, and whatever other administrative horrors appear once the council realizes I can summon them.”
Bernard’s face remained composed, but his eyes did not. Something quiet, restrained, and deeply pleased moved through them. “It would be my honor, my lady.”
Oh.
Dara suddenly felt a little warm around the ears, which was ridiculous. It was only staffing. Very moving staffing, apparently.
“Good,” she said briskly. “Excellent. However, I do have a concern.”
Bernard inclined his head.
“Do you already have an assistant?”
“A household assistant?”
“Any kind of assistant. Someone who helps you sort through this endless mountain of paper before I accidentally bury you under civic reform.”
For the first time, Bernard’s mouth curved—slightly. “My lady is considerate.”
“I am practical.”
“Of course.”
Dara narrowed her eyes.
That had sounded dangerously close to fondness.
Bernard clasped his hands behind his back. “If her ladyship would accept a recommendation…”
Dara immediately perked up. “Yes?”
“My granddaughter, Miss Elowra Holt.”
Dara stilled. “Your granddaughter?”
“Yes, my lady. She is twenty years old. She has recently completed her schooling and returned to Ambervale. She is interested in household administration, records, and civic service.”
Cai slowly sat upright in the air.
Dara’s thoughts sharpened.
Oh?
A possible Bernard 2.0?
How fascinating.
“Is she like you?” Dara asked.
Bernard’s expression became very dignified. “She is her own person, my lady.”
That meant yes.
Excellent.
“Can she read ledgers?”
“Yes.”
“Summarize reports?”
“Yes.”
“Keep secrets?”
Bernard looked mildly offended. “She is my granddaughter.”
“Good answer.”
Cai whispered, “Recruit her immediately.”
Already doing that.
Dara folded her hands. “Can she start tomorrow?”
Bernard paused. “Tomorrow?”
“We are receiving report summaries tomorrow evening. I want copies sorted by urgency, department, obstruction potential, and whether the issue contains hidden corruption, obvious incompetence, or both.”
Bernard’s eyes gleamed—very faintly. “I believe she will find that acceptable.”
“I would like to meet her first, of course.”
“Of course, my lady.”
“But if she is willing and capable, I would be pleased to have her assist you.”
Bernard bowed his head. “I will send word to her at once.”
“Excellent.”
Dara turned toward the table and set the appointment order down carefully, smoothing one gloved hand over the edge. “Now. In three days’ time, I want a council meeting.”
Bernard looked up. “With the formal council, my lady?”
“Eventually.” Dara smiled. “But first, my established council.”
Cai lit up.
Bernard did not ask why the words sounded faintly ominous.
Another point in his favor.
“I would like you present,” Dara said. “Also Garrick, Marek, Duncan, and Gareth if he is available.”
Bernard’s brows lifted. “A private strategy meeting.”
“Yes.”
“With your guards and advisors?”
“With my evil councilmen.”
Bernard paused. “My lady?”
Dara waved that away. “It is a working title.”
Cai said, “It is a terrible title.”
“It is an accurate title,” Dara muttered.
Bernard, who could not hear Cai, waited with saintly patience.
Dara cleared her throat. “We will review the reports first. Then we identify the worst problems, the most obstructive officials, and which matters can be acted on immediately once my appointment begins.”
“Very good, my lady.”
“I also want names. Contractors. Clerks. Petition handlers. Anyone repeatedly involved in delay.”
Bernard nodded once. “Understood.”
Dara smiled.
This was already coming together beautifully.
Too beautifully, perhaps.
But that was a concern for later.
For now, she had authority, a terrifyingly competent estate steward, a possible Bernard 2.0, and three days to prepare an administrative ambush.
Wonderful.
Cai hovered beside her shoulder. “You know,” he said, “most villains begin with assassins or poison.”
Dara did not look at him. I prefer paperwork.
“That is somehow worse.”
Bernard gathered the appointment order with care. “I will prepare a secure file for this matter, my lady.”
“Thank you.” Dara paused. “Oh, and Bernard?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Where is Father?”
Bernard’s expression softened by the smallest degree. “Lord Voss is in the east sitting room, my lady. I believe he is reviewing correspondence.”
Dara stared at him. “Correspondence?”
“Yes.”
“Voluntarily?”
“So it appears.”
Cai gasped. “Character development.”
Dara ignored him with effort. “Well,” she said, lifting her chin. “Then I suppose I should notify him before half of Ambervale does.”
“A wise decision, my lady.”
Dara turned toward the door, only to pause and look back at Bernard. “And send word to your granddaughter immediately.”
“I shall do so at once.”
“Good.”
She smiled, sharp and bright. “Tell her tomorrow will be busy.”
Bernard bowed once more. “I suspect she will be delighted.”
Dara left the records room with the appointment order tucked safely in one hand and the unmistakable thrill of a new project unfolding ahead of her.
Behind her, Cai drifted after her in a shimmer of gold.
“The villainess has acquired a bureaucracy,” he said.
Dara smiled. “Exactly.”