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The Emperor’s Woes:

His Imperial Majesty Harn hated council meetings. He knew they were necessary—he was the one that called them after all – since he could not micromanage the empire, and his subordinate vassals needed to be brought into a clear understanding of his vision for it. Yet at the same time, they were so obstinate that he longed for the days when he could take to the field; this baron is a rubbish administrator, that mayor dislikes the count, the duke wants to advance his own agenda over the wellbeing of the empire and oh so tempted Harn to have him replaced even though it would upset the recently annexed region of Hesten which was immensely strategically valuable as his advisors told them. But he especially hated the councils where he declared they were preemptively going to war again. He stared at his reflection in his wine as Duke Hesten walked back and forth in front of the fireplace, projecting his voice to overcome the pouring rain.

“-Bartleby is still friendly towards us and it would be a diplomatic fiasco for us to subjugate them. Besides it will take far too much time to navigate the mountains at this time of the year to navigate the mountains, and as I’m sure you all know Brantleby is nothing but mountains; the corresponding increase in food can only exceed what we can safely produce and will force us to put our citizens under harsh labor, whi—” The duke stopped as the door opened and the entire council turned to see the new arrival, a man in a rain-slicked greatcoat and sleek, silver flight helmet. Tall and broad, he approached the court and removed his helmet as a man came in to announce that Lieutenant Roland had returned from quelling a band of brigands that had caused a grain hemorrhage. Harn’s mood lifted as perhaps the most reliable person in his entire empire provided just the solution he needed.

“Fortunately, Hesten, it seems we won’t need to send in the army. Roland and Stormwing will be more than sufficient, and at barely any cost,” Harn replied and then started counting down to the duke’s reaction. He had just gotten to two when the duke started and was silenced as a peal of thunder almost split their eardrums in half. Harn saw through the window a glint of silver gliding through the storm, and then turned to the council. Finding them cowed, and the duke having slunk back to his seat, the emperor leaned back into his throne. “It is settled then. Roland and Stormwing will apply operational pressure until the end of winter, at which point the army will assume operational control. We will reconvene in two months’ time; council adjourned.”

As the room began to empty, Roland approached the emperor as the latter pinched his brow. “Declaring war again while I was gone?”

“It is inevitable. Bartleby refused to cease loaning their iron out to Lerse, who in turn will maintain production at their hatcheries. They will retain self-determination besides imperial matters if integrated.”

“Surely Honen and I could spend the winter near Lerse?” The young man asked as the emperor shook his head.

“You’d be too far away from any help—as unlikely as you would need it, Lerse is too far away for any support. A single blow, and we would lose our left arm,” Harn replied. “You will go to Bartleby and give terms. If they refuse to accept, then you know what to do.”

“Understood.” Roland responded. There was a pause as Harn drunk from his glass when the lieutenant spoke up. “Something troubling you, sir?”

“The weight of responsibility and justice. I never expected that I’d have to pretend traitors had strong moral points.”

“But you’re the emperor. Why not axe him?” Roland shrugged.

“Because I’m not going down that road yet. Not without evidence.” Harn turned in his chair to Roland. “You know of all people we’re doing this to bring an end to that nonsense; I’ve already made far more compromises than I wanted.” He sighed. “Remember when things were clearer? When people were oppressed and the answer was to break down the door? How have I gotten from saving villages to burning them down?” Harn turned again to his wine. After a few minutes, Roland walked out, leaving the emperor to his own reflection.