Lola’s lips curved into what could only be described as a dark smile; the kind that said she’d been waiting for this exact question since the siege began. I stared at her clipboard, then at her face, and shrugged with theatrical defeat.

  “Lola,” I said dryly, “are you enjoying torturing me?”

  She blinked innocently, the picture of professionalism. “Me? Never!” she gasped, in the tone of someone absolutely guilty. “It’s completely fine that you have no idea what’s going to happen with the city you just conquered.”

  From somewhere behind us came the sound of shuffling; Dhriti and her priests at work in their temple. No explosions yet. Progress. I rubbed my temples. “Good. No crashing noises. Maybe she’s converting furniture now.”

  Lola snorted softly, pretending not to.

  I turned toward the custodian, who was visibly vibrating with restrained horror as my so-called clergy hovered near priceless relics. He looked like he wanted to scold someone, but divine fear, or paperwork fear, kept him still.

  “I thought we had people for this?” I asked, deadpan. “Didn’t we invite that economist?”

  Lola chuckled, tapping her clipboard. “We did. And he’s been working very hard.” Then, with a wink: “You should meet him.”

  “Lola,” I cut in, motioning toward the custodian before she could turn this into another HR incident. “Focus. Should we… go sit somewhere?”

  The custodian gave me a cautious smile… genuine, weirdly enough. “You can use the grand office, milady. I serve the leadership of the city,” he said, voice respectful.

  I tried to smile back, even if it came out more like a grimace. “That’s me now, I’m afraid.”

  Before I could say anything else, a deep rumble of noise rolled in from outside. Not war. Not cheering either. The kind of sound that meant people arguing loudly with other people holding weapons.

  I frowned. “Let’s check that first.”

  We stepped back out into the sunlit square, and the air was different again… tense. At the far end of the plaza, a small crowd had gathered, the newly freed slave army forming a jagged half-circle. Facing them was a smaller group: disciplined, armored, and utterly out of place.

  At its center walked two figures I recognized instantly; Shad, and the Red Grandmaster beside him.

  They drifted through the crowd, heads high despite the chorus of boos that followed them. The freed slaves shouted insults, threw handfuls of dirt, but no one struck; it wasn’t anger, not yet… it was the kind of outrage that waited for permission to ignite.

  The two grandmasters didn’t flinch. Their robes fluttered in the wind, defiant splashes of emerald and crimson against the ruined marble of the square.

  “Hey, guys!” I called out, tapping the ring so my voice carried across the square. “Those two are the reason you’re free, y’know? If they’d fought me back then, I don’t think I’d be standing here. We’ll decide what to do with them later, okay?”

  The crowd didn’t cheer.

  They stared. The words hung in the air like frost that refused to melt.

  Then someone in the front row shouted, “They’re criminals! Hang them!” The words cut through the square like a thrown knife. “Why do the powerful always get away with it?”

  I bit my lip.

  Hard.

  There was no suitable answer to that. They were criminals… enslavers, enforcers of the system I’d just torn apart. Letting them live made no sense. Not morally. And yet…

  I didn’t feel bad about it.

  That realization landed in my chest like a lump of cold metal. I should’ve felt guilt, conflict, something. Instead, there was just a quiet, tired certainty humming in my ribs. As if this was how things were supposed to go.

  Was that what power did? Strip the edges off your empathy until mercy just became… paperwork left to Lola?

  I watched the two Grandmasters walking toward me, their guards clearing the path, heads bowed under the sound of boos and accusations. The people I’d freed saw monsters. “Am I the one turning into a bad person?” I muttered under my breath. “Is doing politics just… inherently soul rot?”

  Lola stepped up beside me. I didn’t even hear her move, just felt her presence, the human equivalent of a deep breath. Her hand found mine, warm against my icy fingers, and she gave it a quick squeeze.

  “Lady,” she whispered, eyes on the crowd. “Everything has its time.”

  The words shouldn’t have helped. But somehow, they did.

  The two grandmasters stopped at the foot of the marble steps, boots scraping against the polished stone. The crowd quieted.

  Then Shad stepped forward. Always composed, but there was something else in his voice this time… an edge of excitement, like this was the moment he’d been waiting for. “You won,” he said, bowing deeply, his robes catching the dying sunlight. “We persuaded the people to join you. Now… it’s your part of the deal.”

  Excitement. Confidence. Or maybe he just trusted I wouldn’t throw him into the dungeon on impulse.

  “Yes,” I said, nodding once, letting my tone stay even. “Good work.”

  Then I pivoted on my heel, cloak snapping, and started back toward the grand hall. “Leave your guards here.”

  That should’ve been the end of it, but one of them, the young one with the polished armor and zero sense of self-preservation, stepped forward. “We can’t do that,” he said stiffly. “I’m duty-bound to—”

  I turned. Slowly.

  Lola had told me earlier to act as sovereign-ly as possible.

  Yelling at him?

  Killing him?

  I pointed a hand at him, exhaled, and let mana coil through my veins. An ice pillar burst from the stone beneath his boots, launching him several meters into the air.

  He yelped, flailing. I tilted my head. “Questions?” The other guards scrambled to shake their heads and bow so fast I thought someone might pull a muscle.

  “Good,” I said, and walked inside. Shad’s laugh followed me as if to say, yes, this is exactly what I expected.

  He and the red-robed Grandmaster followed, steps echoing behind mine.

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  The custodian was still where I’d left him, hovering nervously near a pillar while my newly self-appointed clergy “cleaned.” I turned to the red Grandmaster and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Charlie. I… fumble around as a Queen.”

  He blinked, clearly not expecting a handshake, then took it after a long, startled pause. “Liam, Your Majesty.” His voice was lower, quieter than Shad’s. He swallowed hard, stealing a glance at his green counterpart. “Thank you.”

  “No worries,” I said, forcing a half-smile. “Please, let’s go with the, uh…”

  I turned to the custodian. “What’s the word I’m looking for?”

  “The custodian, Lady,” he said quickly, bowing again.

  “That’s your name?” I asked, frowning.

  He shook his head. “Upon taking this office, everything else ceases to exist; title, lineage, name. We become the custodians, and nothing more.”

  “Forced?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “Never, Lady,” he said, voice trembling but earnest. “It is an honor. This tradition predates even the Grandmasters… back to the Old Republic. We still keep relics from that time.” His eyes darted over his shoulder, where a pair of priests were dragging a gilded cabinet out from the room. “Including the founding charter of Altandai.”

  I followed his gaze, sighed. “Okay, I’ll make sure. Dhriti!” I yelled across the hall, loud enough to rattle the frescoes. “Every artifact needs to be preserved! Take that as… uh, a royal decree!”

  I blinked at the glowing text in front of me. “You have to be kidding me…”

  Lola’s smirk said she wasn’t.

  I sighed, grabbed her hand before she could pretend to write it down, and led the parade of our awkward little entourage—the custodian, Shad, and Liam trailing behind us like polite ghosts—deeper into the building.

  We reached the Grand Office.

  It was large, circular, and had that oppressive silence of rooms where too many people once thought themselves important. A round table sat in the center, with nine high-backed chairs evenly spaced around it. Each seat had its own desk and chairs behind it; neat rows of parchment, wax seals, and abandoned quills. Documents sprawled everywhere.

  The custodian moved around with quiet reverence, lighting the tall magic candles embedded in wall sconces. Their blue flames flickered to life one by one, painting the marble with ghost-light. No windows… of course.

  When you run a city built on paranoia, you take security very seriously.

  I headed over to the first chair . “So what are we supposed—”

  A sound cut me off.

  A soft flop-flop-flop of wings.

  We all turned.

  A crow landed on the chair. Not just any crow.

  The crow.

  “Saevrin,” I said, staring at it. “You knew I’d end up queening around here, didn’t you? That’s why you sent me to Karzi.”

  The crow let out three deliberate caws, fluffed its wings once, and then—just to make a point—flew through the wall.

  Not around. Through.

  Silence.

  I blinked. “Do you understand any of that?” I asked the room. “What was he even doing?” Lola was still staring at the wall like she expected him to come back for an encore. “Lola?” No answer. Just that dazed, wide-eyed look she got when her system window had too many zeroes in it.

  I glanced around the guys. Everyone looked equally haunted. “People?” I prompted. “Anyone got words?”

  The custodian finally spoke, voice low and trembling. “Saevrin… was an old god of change. And death. People feared him.” He swallowed. “But there was a legend that he guarded Altandai. We have paintings of him—”

  “Let me guess,” I sighed. “In my new temple.”

  He nodded quickly and gulped again. “Did you feel it?”

  “I did,” Lola said softly, still looking at me, something flickering in her eyes. “Charlie, I felt it. As if…” she hesitated.

  “As if what?” I asked.

  She didn’t finish.

  I plodded over to the chair Saevrin was on seconds before, and dropped into it, letting the weight of everything settle on my shoulders. “He’s a god. Big deal. I’m a queen, and you’re not exactly pooping your pants.”

  I gave Shad’s shoulder a nudge with a snowball. “Right?”

  He blinked out of his daze, eyes focusing again. “You’re a queen,” he said slowly, “but also…”

  “Goddess!” Liam blurted, almost reverent. “I felt it.”

  I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “Oh, for the love of frost…”

  “Well, what do I do with both of you?” I asked, leaning back in the chair that had recently doubled as divine seating. My voice came out lighter than I felt, because the air in here still buzzed like a half-finished spell.

  Shad grinned. “I’ll turn my old tower into a garden and retire to the countryside, as promised. Nothing’s changed in my plan. I don’t intend to get involved more than I have to.”

  Of course he didn’t. Shad would probably grow cabbages and teach squirrels philosophy while the world burned.

  Liam cleared his throat, voice a little too eager. “I’m not— I mean, I’m ready to serve you however you need me, Your Majesty. My true passion is magic, but I’ve been a Grandmaster for a while now, so I can help smooth… the wrinkles after Your Majesty…”

  “Big boom,” I said, nodding sagely.

  His expression froze halfway between respect and embarrassment.

  “Well, I agree,” I continued, standing and brushing imaginary dust off my clothes. “Go home, plan whatever you need to—” I turned to Shad, “or dig, I don’t know—and tomorrow I’ll send a crow for you.”

  The joke hung there. Died a noble, quiet death.

  I pouted. The custodian let out a painfully polite laugh, the kind that belonged in HR meetings. If that weren’t fake, I’d eat my own snowball.

  “Go?” Liam blinked. “But we just got here—”

  I raised a hand to cut him off. “Today we celebrate. No work.”

  Lola gave me a sharp look over her clipboard, the kind that said that’s not how administration works, but I ignored her. “I mean,” I added quickly, “you can prepare what you want to do. I just need to go over some… documents.”

  “Very well,” Shad said, rising. “Meetings with Your Majesty are always… interesting.” Liam nodded, bowing awkwardly before following him out. The door shut behind them with a soft thud that somehow sounded like relief.

  Lola exhaled, sliding onto the chair at the table behind me. “You kicked them out.”

  I kept staring at the door for a long moment before answering. “They’re evil.”

  As they barely closed the door, it burst open with a crash that probably added a few new cracks to the marble frame.

  “Queen!” Dhriti practically sang, her voice bouncing off the vaulted ceiling. “We found a staff for you!”

  She barreled into the room, dwarven armor clanking, eyes wide with childlike pride. In her hands she held an ornate staff almost as tall as she was. Gold inlays wound up a core of pale crystal, runes glowing faintly like fireflies trapped in glass. It radiated power, the kind of artifact you didn’t touch without an insurance policy.

  “That’s—” the custodian gasped, his voice going high enough to shatter decorum. “A relic from the fourth Grandmaster!”

  “Dhriti!” I snapped, half rising from my chair.

  She froze mid-step, eyes going wide. “We were careful!” she added quickly, like that somehow excused it.

  I rubbed my temples, exhaling. “I miss Alma…”

  Lola looked up from her clipboard. “She’ll be joining us in the capital.”

  That made me smile, tired but real. “Good. I could use someone who doesn’t interpret ‘handle gently’ as ‘touch everything shiny.’”

  Dhriti pouted, hugging the staff protectively. “But it suits you!”

  “Thanks, Dhriti,” I said, softening my tone, “but I don’t need a staff right now. Just put it somewhere safe and—please—try not to accidentally unleash any ancient curses, okay?”

  “Please,” the custodian breathed like it was a prayer.

  “Wait,” I said suddenly, turning to Lola. “Is the economist here? In Altandai?”

  She blinked. “No, he’s still in the Empire. Why?”

  I grinned. The kind that made Lola visibly nervous. “Dhriti! I have a new task for you, okay?”

  Her head snapped up immediately. “Yes, my Queen!”

  “Guard this door as if your life depends on it. You’re the only one I can trust here.”

  Without hesitation, Dhriti dropped to one knee, thumping her fist over her heart. “I will, my Queen!”

  “And you—” I pointed at the custodian, who jumped like a student caught daydreaming. “Go keep an eye on my priests before they turn the trophy room into a shrine to my elbow armor.”

  His face lit up. “You… truly?”

  “Yeah,” I said, waving him off. “Consider it a royal reassignment. I’ll fetch you, if I need anything.”

  He bowed so fast I worried he might headbutt the floor, then hurried after Dhriti, muttering thanks like I’d just doubled his salary.

  That left only Lola and me.

  She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing just enough to be dangerous. “What are you planning, Lady?”

  “Meet me on Earth,” I said with a grin. “I don’t want to be here when the timer runs out and I’m… not that powerful anymore. We’ll find the economist there.”

  Lola hesitated, then smiled and wrapped her arms around me. “Of course, Lady.”

  I hugged her back, then leaned into the chair, letting the chair press against my spine. The exhaustion hit like a delayed spell. I let my eyes close, let my thoughts drift… It didn’t take long before the throne room faded, and I was back in my plush bed.

  Soft pillow. No politics. I hugged the pillow tight and let out a long, content yawn.

  “Don’t think you can escape me that easily,” a voice said… directly above my head.

  “Huh?!” I jerked upright, eyes wide. Floating upside down above my bed, glowing faint blue in the dark, was Cloudy.

  “…What?” I managed, still half-asleep, half-terrified.

  — End of Book 3.