The great clans of this realm did not rule from within the cities, but raised limestone walls and array formations centered around formidable forts. Nor did they keep themselves entirely secluded on spiritual land so that their virtuous sons and daughters would not suffer deviation in their cultivation, as Daphne would expect from the hermit sects. No, many not of their clan were permitted entry into these castles—servants, scholars, and soldiers who were not and would never be taught the clan scriptures.

Even the scions of rival clans were shown face and allowed entry if they but presented themselves at the gate. Why some of them visited was beyond her. There was no marriage tournament being held, nor were they here to trade pointers. They would come, stay for a night, then just leave as if their only purpose was stopping by.

It was a most perplexing state of affairs.

From their castle, the Greenglades claimed dominion over a hundred li in each direction, and a hundred thousand souls. The character of that rule was not an iron fist though, but a velvet glove. Lords and warlords swore their loyalty to House Greenglade, and while subordinates were necessary for administration, those subordinates were kings in their own right within their lands. They passed their seats to their children, could rule by their own writ, and even defied theirs on occasion.

Had a lesser sect that obeyed a greater sect dared display such defiance, they would have been torn out by the roots.

Beneath these ruling lords were knights and mages-at-arms, who honed their skills at death against each other not unlike core disciples, though in her old life it usually did not involve armor. Finally, at the base of this societal pyramid were the peasants—the strawborn as her mother liked to call them. It was they who toiled in soil, herded livestock, and gathered the harvest. By the sweat of their brows were their betters clothed and fed, and for their efforts they were thanked by surrendering a portion of their produce as tax.

It was an unjust arrangement. Obviously the only fair system would be if all the people worked for Daphne.

Her father would be returning to the Imperial City soon which was to their north, but before he left there was one last piece of business to attend to.

“You don’t have to watch this,” Mother said, as their knights dragged the beaten and bloodied body of Broken Nose to the chopping block.

“She’s your heir and the future Lady Greenglade,” Father said. “One day, her hand might be forced to take up the sword in defense of her ancient rights. She cannot flinch so easily from death, not of others.”

Daphne rested the side of her face on her propped up fist, resting on the arm of her seat. “To kill this man is a waste.”

“After what he did to you, it is necessary,” Father said.

Daphne understood the need to preserve face, for one robbed of honor was not even human anymore. Still, that did not mean restitution needed to be death. A good beating, like what she’d inflicted on Broken Nose, sufficed sometimes. “The world would be quite an empty place if we killed everyone over face each time.”

“And what would you have us do with him then? There must be punishment, Daphne,” Mother said.

“Make him my servant,” Daphne said without blinking. “I could use a footstool.” Besides, he might know more of where his friends were hiding with their treasures. That he had the gall not to tell her immediately that the hut was not the true hideout of his friend was disappointing though. She would have to train such behavior out of him.

Stolen story; please report.

They shared a look. “You … want him to serve you? You want to keep him around after what he did?”

“Oh, he defied me to be sure, but I made him pay for that,” Daphne said.

“He defied you?” Father asked, brows drawing together. “I thought …”

“Thought what?” Daphne asked, sitting upright and turning to look at him.

“Your maid said he … tried to have his way with you.”

The only thing she could do was laugh. “As if that rat could lay a finger on me!” Daphne said. That he’d been bested so easily by a girl of poor physique showed his qi was not even awakened, or even trained in any techniques. How could such a pitiful being think he was fit to do anything to her other than being a footstool? “I had him subdued in three strikes,” Daphne said with a tinge of embarrassment. A true cultivator would have needed only the flick of a finger to deal with such pests.

“So he didn’t touch you?” Father asked.

“Of course not. Why on earth would my maid think that?” Daphne asked, sending a pointed look at the girl in question.

She bowed her head timidly. “Many apologies, my lady! I only came into the room when he was on the floor. Before that, I heard a struggle taking place, and assumed wrongly. You were never one to resort to violence.”

“He still abducted you. Such a crime against the stoneborn is punishable by death too,” Father said.

Daphne sighed. This was taking too much of her valuable time. She could be cultivating right now, or learning the names of the clan heirs she would soon be meeting! “Then kill him and be done with it. I will take his head myself if it helps the proceedings end any faster.”

“If Daphne is being serious, then let us put the choice to the criminal,” Mother said. “Death or duty until death, as is our custom.”

“Death or duty,” Father agreed. He rose from his seat and gestured for Daphne to follow. “Stay your blade, Sir Ronald.” The knight with a blood red tabard over his mail paused, lowering his axe back to his side. “You are fortunate that my daughter wishes you to have a choice, scum,” Father said. “You may face death here and now, or death after a life of duty to the one you wronged.”

“Death or death, what choice is that?” Broken Nose spat out.

“How can a man claim to be surprised that death is upon him when one is courting death?” Daphne asked. “Choose quickly, Broken Nose. I have things to do today.”

He closed his eyes for several heartbeats, before bowing his head like a dog. An animal would always be true to their nature in the end. “I choose duty.”

“Clean him up, heal that nose of his, and brand him,” Father said.

“My name is Rhian,” Broken Nose said.

Not a very heroic name, Daphne thought. Besides, with his looks, it was almost certain the heavens did not favor him. Broken Nose, then, was inconsequential to her. She turned to her father. “Will you be returning north to the Imperial City now?”

He sighed. “I should, now that you are safe again. Your mother will see to the rest of the bandits; I have given her the strings to the spell.” Father glanced at the position of the sun overhead. “Though I’ve been gone long enough that the Imperial City should be further west now.”

She blinked. “What do you mean? How can a city move?” She had seen many wonders in her old life and been privy to many secret scriptures, but what dao of civilization allowed a city to move on its own?

“The Imperial City is a castle on a cloud,” he explained patiently.

“Are you saying it flies?” When he nodded, Daphne had decided. “I’m going to marry the prince.” That she had to writhe in the earth like a graceful silkworm while others could look down on her from the skies was simply intolerable. Also, the prince was a prince. He was sure to be a man of great strength and character, and a most excellent partner to dual cultivate with.

If he were not, the heavens would not have blessed him with such good fortune.

“That is not a choice you should rush into lightly,” Father cautioned. “You are your mother’s only daughter. If you were to marry the prince, you would have to surrender your birthright, your claim to Greenglade.”

“But I would be a princess,” Daphne said.

“A consort,” Father said. “A princess-consort, when Prince Hadrian ascends to the Starlight Throne, and only one of many. Are you sure you could live with that?”

“Of course I can,” Daphne said without hesitation. The prince was destined to be a hero, and a hero was destined to have a harem. That simply was.