*** Snowkeep Palace - Archives ***
The smell of dust and parchment hung heavy in the air. Golden candlelight flickered across the walls, catching on the worn spines of old records stacked high on every shelf. The archives had not seen this much activity in years, not since before the rebellion.
Justinian sat at a long oak table, leaning over piles of freshly written reports. Darius stood beside him, sorting through the latest documents brought in from the outlying villages.
"Well?" Justinian finally asked, his tone low.
Darius hesitated before speaking. "The census is done, my lord. The results are... less than ideal."
"How bad?"
"Bad enough," Darius admitted. "Many settlements still haven’t recovered from the war. Some villages, like the Bridgeton region, are half-empty, with entire streets devoid of residents. The ones that remain... are doing what they can."
Justinian let out a quiet hum, neither surprised nor disappointed. "And the towns?"
"Better off," Darius replied. "Trade’s crawling back. There’s life in the markets again, though most still live from one paycheck to the next. The capital is expanding in infrastructure and trade, but as for current citizen employment, we’re not doing well."
Justinian leaned back, his fingers tapping softly against the wood. The sound echoed faintly through the room.
"So the duchy survives," he murmured. "But barely."
Darius gave a small nod. "Survives, yes. Thrives? Not yet."
For a while, there was only the sound of paper being turned. Justinian’s eyes lingered on a map pinned to the far wall, one drawn years ago, showing a duchy that no longer existed, one ruled by his late ancestors. Half of the towns it had marked as prosperous were now little more than names on a ledger.
"How’s the mood among the people?" he asked finally.
"It’s a mixed answer," Darius said. "Some praise the new leadership, but I’m afraid the only reason for our stability is due to your divine nature, without that..."
Justinian exhaled slowly. "The duchy would have already fallen even with the end of the rebellion," he muttered.
"I’m afraid you’re correct."
"Looks like I’ve been slacking."
He rose from his seat, walking toward the map, eyes narrowing on the borders that were once under his family’s control.
"If we’re to rebuild properly, we’ll need more than soldiers and walls. We’ll need builders. Teachers. Hands that know how to shape things, not just defend them."
’I can’t just keep relying on miracles every week.’
"That will take time," Darius said cautiously.
"That’s much to be expected," Justinian replied.
He turned back, arms crossed. "Tell the scribes to start another survey, smaller this time. I want to know which trades still survive, and who still remembers how to teach them."
"Another census?" Darius blinked, half in disbelief, half in dread.
"Yes," Justinian said simply. "But this time, don’t count heads. Find people."
He walked toward the window, gazing down at the cold sprawl of Snowkeep below. The moonlight cast a pale glow over the rooftops, painting the streets in silver and shadow. From this high up, the city looked orderly, calm, but to Justinian, it felt hollow.
"I’ll be reorganizing our manpower," he said quietly. "Those who have the skills should be given a job, I’d rather have that than the situation I had before, barely incompetent nobles filling my council."
*** Snowkeep - Lower Districts, Night ***
Later that night, Justinian walked through the streets alone. His guards kept their distance, allowing him a rare moment of silence among the ordinary.
It was a small adjustment he had to make as Cassia was still at Vesuvian, still discussing things with his father, but this was an opportunity for him to show off in front of his personal guard.
Snowkeep was changing. The streets weren’t as empty as before, lanterns burned longer, shops stayed open later, and the air carried a faint hum of conversation instead of the old hollow stillness.
Compared to before, there were more businesses open. Darius’ law reforms helped re-establish the economy, but Justinian just couldn’t rely on time alone; he needed to take personal action.
A small bakery caught his attention. Warm light spilled from its windows, and the scent of bread drifted into the cold air. Inside, a woman worked the oven, her sleeves rolled up, her face flushed with effort.
"You’re still baking this late?" Justinian asked as he stepped inside.
The woman nearly dropped her tray when she saw him. "L-Lord Justinian! Forgive me, I— we were only finishing the day’s orders!"
"Rest assured," he said evenly. "How’s business?"
She swallowed nervously but managed a smile. "Better than before, my lord. People can buy again. It’s... nice hearing laughter in the square."
Justinian nodded. "Good. Keep baking. You feed more than stomachs that way."
The woman blinked, confused at first, then smiled a little wider. "Yes, my lord."
He left quietly, the smell of bread following him into the cold.
As he walked, Justinian looked up toward the faint outline of his palace in the distance, its banners catching the wind.
’I could handle battles,’ he thought. ’But now I need to establish a meritocracy.’
His boots echoed on the cobblestone, slow and steady, until the city swallowed the sound.
’I will establish my own, Pax Romana.’
Justinian crossed his arms, trying to remember old philosophy back in his world.
’Free thinkers would lead to questions and rebellion... but also loyalty when done correctly.’
He thought about the European Renaissance, a time of innovation and rapid development that had completely elevated society in a short amount of time.
And he wondered... if he could recreate that here, but instead of a whole continent, what about just for a single localized duchy?
His mind alone could barely remember most literature from the time, only remembering some more popular works, but innovation thrived in even the most minor of sources.
[Prestige Shop]
’And that’s where you come in...’
Old World Encyclopedia: 300 Prestige
’The knowledge might be general, but in a world where knowledge isn’t commonplace, this sure as hell would be effective.
[Sold]