The overhaul of the Stag Lord's fort (now called Tuskdale) into a capital worthy of a barony was far from complete as yet, and even some parts of Guelder's would-be palace were unfinished. The throne room was already in use, and Valerie was idling around its entrance, waiting for Guelder to show up. At its present state, the building looked more like a big barn than a refined, elegant structure reflecting the rank and position of its owner. Still, strangely enough, Valerie liked its utilitarian simplicity. A large swath of land was cleared and left empty on both sides and also behind the building. That would be the palace gardens, once Guelder found the time to implement her plans. Tuskdale would probably have to go without manicured lawns, poodle-shaped topiaries or artfully pruned rose bushes—and perhaps this was a good thing.

Finally, Guelder slipped out of the palace, this time without her leopard. She was holding a notepad, a pencil and a stack of papers, probably the applications for state offices. Those were exactly what Valerie wanted to talk to her about.

"Your Grace? Did you have time to read my application yet?"

"Yes, Valerie. Walk with me, please."

Valerie had submitted a carefully penned resume and motivation letter (two concepts Guelder was just getting acquainted with), detailing her qualifications and qualities that made her a good choice for a role in the government. Guelder was not great at reading Common script, especially handwriting, but Valerie refused to accept that for an excuse. If the baroness wanted to do her job properly, she had to improve. This was a test to see whether she was ready to put in the effort.

As they walked, weaving their way among puddles of different size across the emerging capital's streets, Valerie found that the simple woolen shirt and working trousers she was wearing didn't protect her from the hungry eyes of construction workers. Luckily, however, there were no catcalls. Partly because Guelder had made it abundantly clear that she didn't tolerate such behaviour, partly because a bitch slap from a tower shield specialist just wasn't worth it.

Valerie could escape her paladin order, but she couldn't escape her own beauty. She stood out even in the company of elves and half-elves, most of them rightfully proud of their looks. Everyone around her regularly voiced their compliments in their own way. Linzi practically had a crush on her, which she channeled into poetic descriptions in her journal. Regongar, forbidden from making unsolicited advances, teased her in other ways, quite cruelly, like a little boy who bullied the girl he liked, not knowing any better. Even grouchy Harrim expressed his regret that this unbelievable beauty would one day perish along with the rest of the world. The only exception was Guelder herself. The way she pointedly ignored Valerie's looks was intriguing and, to a certain extent, disturbing. Was it because she was pandering to Valerie's deepest wish to be considered more than a pretty face? Or did she simply not find Valerie that beautiful? Valerie tried her best to interpret Guelder's behaviour positively, especially after she'd heard Octavia complain about the same. It was high time someone showed that immature, stupid chick her place, and if that involved ignoring Valerie's beauty as well, so be it.

They reached the wall overlooking the Tuskwater. Besides the stunning panorama of the lake under the shadow of the departing stormclouds and the rolling hills covered in woods, the top of the wall also provided an excellent writing surface, just at the right height. Guelder unceremoniously handed over the papers to Valerie, then spread her cloak over the wall to keep them dry. Now they could get to work.

"I read through your documentation, Valerie, and found it very impressive. I appreciate your nice and legible handwriting. I intend to avail of your support as one of my most important advisors. I want you to be my Regent."

"The face of your rule," mused Valerie. Was this a roundabout way to compliment on her beauty, at long last?

"No. Obviously, the face of my rule is my own face. However, you are one of my most highly qualified companions, one of noble birth and earnest attitude. You will help me organise community life, make laws, negotiate with foreign politicians. Also, I am thankful for any advice regarding etiquette. You know, I am a savage from the forest, in sore need of being taught proper manners."

"Indeed, Your Grace," remarked Valerie without a hint of a smile. Would the baroness lose her temper at this insolence?

"And if I fall or become incapacitated," said Guelder without missing a beat, "you will be the one to take the throne."

"But only until your heir comes of age."

Guelder rolled her eyes in a very unbaronesslike way.

"That is not something I want to discuss today, or anytime soon. Anyway, in your legislation work, you will be aided by Jaethal and Octavia."

Valerie flinched. Was this Guelder's revenge for her jab? If so, it was cruel and deeply unfair. How could the baroness force her to work together with a silly goose and a creepy undead inquisitor of a forbidden religion?

"Forgive my bluntness, Your Grace, but I don't think they—"

"My decision stands. Jaethal has a keen and devious mind, and centuries of working experience as a jurist. Octavia has a kind heart and incredible social sensitivity on account of her background. They will provide you not only with fresh insights but also with valuable lessons in teamwork. And now, as my Regent, help me with the rest of the government position."

Guelder pushed the stack of papers towards Valerie, leaving it halfway between the two of them—a silent cry for help from a forest-dweller with weak reading skills. Taking the hint, Valerie began leafing through the applications and the interspersed informal notes.

"What roles do you have in mind, Your Grace?"

"In the first round, we will need someone to organise an army and lead it, someone to keep in touch with the people, someone to take care of the finances, and someone to help me with environmental protection. I already have a candidate for the last role. The Guardian of the Bloom invited me to a meeting in her home. It will be an excellent opportunity for me to recruit her."

Valerie frowned. Here we go again. Guelder and her imaginary friend. Apparently, elves need more time to grow it out. The Guardian of the Bloom was supposed to be identical to Guelder's mysterious guide in the Stag Lord mission. However, since they had arrived back from Brevoy, the baroness began to refer to her as a real person, a nymph, rather than a spirit of nature—maybe because she'd finally met her without being under the effect of mind-altering substances. Or so she said. Valerie would have felt more comfortable working with someone she knew in person, or at least someone who doubtlessly existed.

"So a General, a Councillor of Welfare and a Treasurer?"

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"Sounds about right. Oh, and a High Priest, too. I wish we could do without that, but for the sake of our future subjects, I will probably need one."

"At least that part is easy," said Valerie. "Either Jhod Kavken or Tristian. You don't want to unleash the Doomer Dwarf on your people."

"I am sure that would start a wave of emigration," laughed Guelder. "There is truth to be found in Harrim's teachings, but definitely not for the faint-hearted. Jhod will do nicely. Most of the locals are followers of Erastil, anyway, and the idea of small footprint living is something I am happy to support. As to Tristian, I want him to be my contact person to the people... what did you call it again?"

"Councillor."

"Yes, that. Is he not the perfect choice? A servant of the goddess of mercy will watch over my people and bring their complaints to me. Like an angel who carries prayers from the believers to his deity."

Valerie contracted her eyebrows. Was the baroness already getting delusions of grandeur, this early into her reign?

"I'm sorry?"

"Never mind. Just an analogy. Looks like I spend too much time with Linzi. Speaking of whom, I will add her to Tristian's team."

Valerie withheld a sigh of relief. So Guelder did have mercy on her, after all. Let Tristian juggle that bouncing little ball of energy, if he could.

"Linzi's journal will be a good basis for building my propaganda," continued the baroness.

"Indeed, Your Grace. But make sure you read it through before you approve it for publication."

"That goes without saying. I will want her to do a weekly summary of events in the barony that can be issued to criers and distributed among the people. What do you think?"

"It's good to see you brimming with ideas, Your Grace."

"Let us exploit my creativity while it lasts, then. Any idea about our General?"

"Kesten Garess. Who else?"

Valerie flipped through the pages, searching in vain for Kesten's documentation.

"My thoughts exactly," said Guelder. "Too bad he refused."

"How come?"

"Too much responsibility, he wants to stay in the background, and so on. However, he pointed me towards Kassil Aldori, and I am inclined to heed his advice."

"That... doesn't seem like a wise decision to me, Your Grace. He is a duellist, with no experience in warfare, and more importantly, he is closely affiliated with Restov. Which is fine as long as our alliance with Lady Jamandi is valid and intact. But if either of the parties defaults, then our army being led by a puppet of Restov will suddenly become a serious problem."

Guelder took a deep breath.

"I understand your concerns, Valerie. Still, our options are limited. There is Amiri and Regongar, both quite eager to brandish weapons and bash skulls, but with zero military knowledge or experience. Our choice is between putting ourselves at the mercy of our liege or trusting an untrained and inexperienced person with our army."

That was quite a quandary. Kassil might have picked up some theoretical knowledge at the Aldori Academy, but he had no military or leadership experience, either. Amiri, a lone wolf chased away from her tribe, or Regongar, whose most notable deeds were his failed escape attempts with Octavia, were in no way better.

"In this case, my vote goes to Kassil. He seems to be the lesser evil."

"Kassil will it be, then," sighed Guelder. "I will add Amiri and Regongar to his team. They will learn what they can from him, while keeping an eye on his loyalties. And I will do my best to reduce the number of our potential enemies by making alliances with our neighbours. I have no great hopes for Pitax, but Mivon and Varnhold may be up for it. Perhaps even Glenebon."

"Pitax," muttered Valerie, shaking her head. "That stinking pit of vipers. Do not expect anything good from there. You'll want to beware of Glenebon, too, and most of all, Varnhold. A highly militarised state, founded on a barren strip of rocky desert and mountains... It's just a matter of time for them to covet our lands. You must be very, very smart in dealing with them."

The baroness nodded.

"And now comes the worst part. I have no candidate for the position of the Treasurer. Do you have any advice for me?"

Valerie gave the matter some thought.

"I don't think anyone of your current companions is suited to the task," she finally said. "Some are just unqualified, others are downright dangerous to be trusted with money. Perhaps you could ask Lady Jamandi to help you out."

Guelder's shoulders sagged. Until a suitable candidate showed up, she would have to deal with the task of bookkeeping herself. Valerie was genuinely relieved that the baroness didn't try to squeeze that duty into the Regent's job description.

"Then I will commission the book merchant lady to order in some education material for me. State Budgeting for Clueless Rulers, or the like. Do not be surprised if my hair turns grey in a matter of weeks."

Surprising even herself, Valerie looked into Guelder's eyes and squeezed her arms. Guelder forced herself not to look away. Extended friendly eye contact was another thing she had to work on, but she was already showing some improvement.

"You've got this, Your Grace. I actually believe we can pull this off. There will be blunders, even big ones, but you will learn to navigate this. If you can deal with the forest, you can deal with politics, too."

She had absolutely no idea why she'd said this last thing. It wasn't even true. However, Guelder seemed grateful for her reassuring words.

"Thanks, Valerie," she said. "There is one more thing I want you to do for me. Go visit a barber, as soon as possible. I respect your decision to keep your hair short and simple, but now that you are a state official, you cannot afford bad hair days anymore. Accept this from someone who fights an uphill battle with her comb every morning for the sake of Nightvale's reputation."

Valerie treated her to a flat look. She knew her hair was ugly. That was the point. However, the baroness was right: the Regent of Nightvale couldn't run about with a haircut resembling a neglected pigeon's nest.

"Consider it done, Your Grace. For Nightvale!"