Lancet dropped into her office chair. Luxuriating in the comfortable leather seat. She spared herself a few minutes of privacy. Before she had to wade through the legion of paperwork ahead.

She sighed in contentment. Then stifled a groan as she looked at her desk. Several neat piles of paper were stacked to the side. The beginning of tonight’s flood and the dregs. She’d slain armies, of missives, requests, reports, etc, etc. In the weeks preceding the angel’s arrival. Yet some managed to survive.

Every person, with a name worth remembering and even more without. Had a strong opinion of their guest. Wanting to meet them. Study them, Dissect them!

She’d filled an entire drawer with inquiries subtle and overt. Asking if she could play matchmaker! She couldn’t decide which of the latter two was more concerning. Though her heart went out the latter most. It was so cruel to have such pretty creatures swagger about. Uncaring of the hearts they stole.

She shook her head. A wry wistful smile on her lips.

Thankfully she’d managed to ward them off using the duchies. But more were in her future. Especially after today’s display.

She groaned. She could picture them now. How did a bout between ideologues leave no damage? The reply of ‘angelic magic’ would only inspire more questions. Never mind their specialist were capable of similar feats. Coupled with the age-old question of how angels cultivated.

She sighed and gave herself a few moments more. She shuffled deep into the chair’s soft cushions.

The family had not, prepared her for this. She’d been sent to ‘oversee’ Spes Nova. A city whose bureaucracy had been self-managing for longer than her dynasty existed! Her job was to keep egos in check. Stop the various players from stepping all over things. Allowing for the smooth operation of the empire’s cultural and religious heart.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Or, schmooze and people, please.

Not, consort with foreign dignitaries, no matter how pleasant and stem house wars. Really what was she even - she released a long slow breath. Then another till all the heat had left. She glanced through her window. Into the lower quarters.

The day was at its end. A spattering of lights, electric and oil, replaced the waning dusk. It was brighter than usual. People partied in the streets. Casting bright lights as they sang and danced, and whatever else it was commoner did when given an excuse to party.

After all news had leaked. A vicious attack on a duke’s heir. Thwarted by their angelic visitors. The underground gang responsible, destroyed to the last. Cleansing the last of the slum’s puss. So the city could grow anew.

She thought it was nice. The crowds certainly did. Songs trickled to her ears. Intrepid bards spun songs from events they scarcely knew. The liberal use of alcohol helped.

The city celebrated and here she was. Brooding. She sighed and leaned back for what would have to be the final time. She rubbed her temples.

Yet all wasn’t well. Eberwith and Salen had been a few words away from war. She’d brought them down to a simmer, but things were tense.

The question was what now? She slowly drummed her finger along her desk.

She’d gained a snake girl, useful if less so than a male. Leandra had insisted on taking the big one which was unfortunate. She had a butterfly now. Which was nice she supposed.

She’d developed a rapport with Lux. It was quite nice trading compliments with him. Unlike her usual company, he seemed to mean then. She smiled then her lips curled in annoyance. Though it seemed to come at the cost of his brother.

She’d been enjoying the pair’s attention. She’d continued the tour a few hours later. But Igni’s reserve had turned into withdrawn silence.

She groaned. Her thoughts pinged in time to her fingers. Eberwith would pay concessions but that wouldn’t be enough. What she needed, was to draw Salen’s ire away from war. The angel’s pretty feathers wouldn’t be enough for the birds. Figuring out the doe’s plans could wait.

Her fingers rolled to a halt. A gleeful smile slowly stretched across her cheeks.

A plan formed. It had everything, drama, suspense, romance! No one would expect it. No one could it was too brilliant.

A scheme worthy of her progenitor. A chuckle escaped her.

She needed to reread the angelic reports. Then get the matriarch’s go ahead. She glanced at the piles of paper before her. Her smile fell. She thought of the mountains waiting outside her door.

She glanced outside. She weighed her idea’s tremendous value. Against the unending legions. Surely the peasants wouldn’t notice if she slipped into their midst.