Lord Adrian Fyre sighed as he stretched, shifting his shoulders this way and that until they cracked and the muscles loosened. “When was the last time we sat at a desk this long?” he whined. “I need to move before my spine turns to stone.”

“We’re still hours away from completing all the necessary paperwork,” his assistant said in a tone that wasn’t much different from Adrian’s. “Even just getting through the ledgers for the time you were away is going to take a few days.”

“Take a break from the city duties for a moment,” Captain Barkley—one of Adrian’s most trusted guards and advisers— suggested as he rubbed at his beard. Seeing the older man in common clothes was strange; Adrian was a little too accustomed to seeing him in uniform. “Nikhal, fetch dinner for our Lord. He can resume civic duties after he eats.”

A small twitch of his upper lip was the only indication that Nikhal really didn’t care for Barkley’s order. He looked at Adrian and waited for a nod of acceptance before moving to comply.

Quietly and with a face of indifference. Adrian could have imagined the small twitch.

Once the attendant was out of the room Barkley brought up another topic: “We aren’t ready for the King’s Parade. While you were away they allowed the scum of the city to show.”

Adrian rolled his eyes. He didn’t usually care about the seedy underbelly of his city since there were much larger concerns to draw his attention. He left internal problems to his sister and focused his efforts on making sure their land was safe from anything outside, and making sure the other towns and villages under their watch were well cared for and didn’t fall prey to raiders, monsters, or disasters. Adrian attributed the clean look of the city to the constant maintenance efforts he enforced.

Those efforts had fallen behind slightly while he was away, since half the manpower had left with him.

Keeping his focus on maintenance when there was a King’s Parade this year was impossible. Nothing could be left to chance when royalty was passing through his land, inspecting his troops and evaluating how well his city was performing. He had ten months to finish preparing and there was a bridge falling apart in Remington, a diseased field in Chester, and orphans pickpocketing visitors on Trader’s Row in his own city.

The slums should be the least of his worries.

“We could just round them up, sir,” Captain Barkley said in a tone that was (at best) reluctant. The older man had spent many years training less savory recruits into soldiers before falling into Adrian’s service. Barkley had experience mixing thieves with the sons and daughters of traders and farmers. The same traders and farmers they stole from. It rarely ended well without one-on-one attention.

Adrian sighed again. The sheer amount of work was spoiling his return home. “And do what when we have them?” he asked as he stood and started rolling his wrist to get out the kinks. Sitting still didn’t suit him—writing for hours didn’t agree with him—and he was getting restless. “We certainly don’t have enough cells for every thief and pickpocket in the city. I’d put them in guard service, but not even Captain Dread will be able to scare them into staying put in just ten months. If there weren’t so many of them it might work, but you’re talking about sweeping the slums. There’s got to be a hundred people living out on the streets.” He ran his hand back through his bangs and tugged at the ornamental pins keeping the long red strands out of his face. “What does my sister do when they commit crimes?”

“She can only deal with them if they get caught,” Barkley grumbled as he tugged his own beard from a snag in his shirt. It took a bit of clever twisting that almost set Adrian laughing. After fixing the troublesome knot, Barkley continued: “She’s a judge, not a brute squad. When they get caught – well, it depends. Light crimes end up in the guard or working off the debt in the kennels or stables. Heavier crimes with a prior offense end up with city sanitation or working out in the forest.” Those jobs were either disgusting or dangerous, depending on the situation. “More than two offenses lead to execution, no matter the severity. We haven’t had many lately. Either they’re getting better, or they’re finding a way to avoid a mark.”

The brand was almost barbaric, but easier to track than a clever sneak constantly changing his name. Adrian already thought the two-offense rule was overly severe. He wanted to change it, and wanted to find an alternative to the mark. With so many problems cropping up, however, he didn’t have any time to focus on laws that had been in place since before his grandfather ruled.

Adrian sighed. “What about Dog Services? Any of them able to work there?”

Barkley shook his head. “We sweep the streets regularly for anyone with trainable magic not already in wizarding academy or doing dog work. You know this, sir.”

“I know, I know,” Adrian grumbled. “Just… grasping for solutions, I guess. Hoping there’s an answer I missed. The mages are sure only those with trained magic can survive the transformation?”

Barkley nodded. “Haven’t changed their mind on that in 500 years, sir.”

Adrian glared at him. “You’re determined to keep me in a foul mood, aren’t you?”

“Hadn’t really been planning on it,” Barkley almost laughed.

Adrian fell back into his chair in a sprawl and shifted so the hard wood didn’t press the silly ornamental pieces into the small of his back. He had a meeting with other officials in a few minutes and he had to wear all the jewelry of his office, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Captain Barkley looked much more comfortable in his simple trousers and shirt, even with a short sword at his waist and the heavy boots he preferred.

“The bridge is the easiest to deal with,” Adrian said, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “A company of the guard – maybe 15 or so – can be sent to Remington to make repairs. That should speed things up so they can finish within the month.” And that would be one problem crossed off his giant to-do list. Though he would also need to look at the budget to see if the repairs would make significant impact, and need to make sure there wasn’t a lapse in the guard shifts with the soldiers away from their posts.

Barkley nodded. “We can spare that many from the new recruits. It’ll be good for them to see that guard work isn’t all battles, too.”

“Hmmm,” Adrian sounded in agreement. The new recruits wouldn’t have as big an impact to the postings, but they also weren’t as experienced in civic duties.

Adrian closed his eyes and thought back to the parade through the city. So many people had turned out to see their neighbors and friends return. It was more of a celebration than the fancy ball they’d attended in the capital. His fire had spread out across the crowds searching for talent in the young, and he’d been pleased to see more than a few potential mages. Even a pair of black-haired talents. Rare enough in this part of the country to be considered exotic.

“The orphans can go straight to guard duty if they’re old enough, or to the church for the youngest,” Barkley huffed. “They should be there already.”

Another part of an age-old law that Adrian hadn’t had time to fix yet. That ruling had come about during a wartime when recruits were difficult to find. Fixing that one, however, would mean another trip back up to the capital and pleading his case to the Duke that ruled over them. The thought made Adrian bristle; His Grace rarely listened to Adrian’s requests. He considered Adrian too young.

“That leaves the field and the pickpockets,” Adrian said, trying desperately to pull his mind away from wandering thoughts. “Have one of the mages go to Chester with two of our top farmhands and ten guards,” he decided. “The farmhands to determine what the problem is, and the mage to contain it if needed.” It was pointless to try and direct that from here. Adrian had no way of knowing what kind of trouble they faced. Better to send experts.

Barkley nodded. “Will do. And the pickpockets?”

“I’ll think of something,” Adrian sighed. His own city slums. That was the problem that needed the most attention and also the most thought. Guard service was an honor and any of the poor could give their time to better their standing. If he could get them to stop stealing. “But first I have to deal with the most pressing pains of the moronic rich bastards.”

“Should I remind you that you’re one of those rich bastards?”

“Shut up. My parents were married.”

“Of course, sir.”