Duke Ferron, Julius, Ed, and Remus gathered in the family room, Lilith standing quietly behind Remus's chair, still wearing her human face and her servant's dress, though Remus had stopped thinking of either as the whole truth of her.
"You're a sight for sore eyes, Ferron," Julius said, clapping the recovering Duke lightly on the shoulder. "Good to see you kicking about in the world of the living again."
"Same, my lord," Ed said, with a small, formal dip of his head. "I feared the worst. Logged it as such, for what little that's worth now."
"I appreciate the concern from both of you." Ferron looked pale still, thinner in the face than he'd been before the injury, but his voice had steadied. "It could have gone very differently, and I'm fortunate Leo happened to be nearby that day. I'm told I'll make a full recovery. And thanks to my son, the duchy seems to be standing on steadier ground than it was."
He gave Remus a small nod, brief but genuine.
"Which brings us to the matter at hand," Remus said. "First item, how do we deal with Duke Corvath. He won't sit still now that his scheme's unraveled."
"I've got an answer for that." Ed produced a sealed envelope, the wax stamped with the same crossed hammers Remus had seen on Corvath's own seal. "We've got Corbett in custody, willing to testify that Corvath armed and funded the raid, and stands behind your father's injuries. Present this letter to the King as evidence, and justice should follow."
"It won't," Julius cut in. "That snake's got friends in high places. He'll slither out of it clean. We ought to be readying for war instead."
Remus cleared his throat, drawing the room's attention back to him.
"I've got a different read on it. Hear me out before you write it off," he said. "I think we use everything we've got, the letter, Corbett's testimony, all of it, as leverage in trade talks with the Duke, rather than making a formal enemy of him. Convince him cooperation serves his interests better than open conflict does."
"He made himself the enemy the moment he had your father cut open," Julius said.
"It wouldn't hurt to squeeze him a little, while we're at it," Lilith offered, from her spot behind Remus's chair. "Keep Corbett and the letter in reserve. Make demands with real teeth behind them."
Every head in the room turned toward her.
"You're a sneaky one, aren't ya," Julius said, half-admiring, half-wary.
"Should she even be present for this?" Ed asked, not unkindly, but with the careful precision of a man raising a procedural objection. "This council's for the Duke's advisors."
"She's my assistant," Remus said. "She attends what I attend."
Ferron shifted in his seat, and the room's attention swung back to him without needing to be asked.
"All of that's well reasoned," he said, "but I have to side with Ed here. Justice through the King is the proper channel, and the one that keeps our hands clean. Moving on."
Remus took a moment to smooth his own disappointment off his face before he spoke again.
"The harvest, then," he said. "Every duchy had a poor season this year, so grain's climbed to three silver a unit."
"How much do we have on hand?" Ferron asked.
"Twenty thousand units," Julius said, with obvious pride.
"We owe thirty-five hundred to Duke Corvath for the iron and coal," Remus said, "and another thirty-five hundred to the Banking Guild against our debt."
"We'll need twenty-five hundred held back for next season's planting," Julius added, "and another twenty-five hundred kept in stores against winter. That leaves a surplus of eight thousand, clear."
"I'd suggest sending five thousand to Oldtown to sell at market," Remus said, "and distributing three thousand directly to Southland families."
"Generous, if you're angling for a popularity contest," Julius said, though there was no real edge in it.
"It also keeps grain prices from collapsing nationally," Lilith added. "Flood the market with too much of our own unusually large output, and the price falls from three silver back to two, maybe one. Bad for every farmer in the Kingdom, not just us."
Heads turned toward her again, and this time nobody bothered hiding their surprise.
"Sound thinking, every part of it," Ferron said, "but the surplus goes entirely to Oldtown's market. We prioritize the Kingdom's grain supply over our own private profit. Is there anything else on the agenda?"
"I think it's time I left," Remus said.
Every eye in the room turned to him at once.
"Why would you say that?" Ferron's brow furrowed, genuine confusion under the surprise. "I want you here, at my side. We wouldn't have survived the year without you."
"Aye," Julius put in. "You've become a proper fixture of this household, boy."
"Why leave, Master Remus?" Ed asked, and for once his flat delivery carried a note of something almost like concern.
"It's plain to me there can't be two people making decisions in the same house," Remus said, "and it doesn't feel like my suggestions are being weighed the way they should be. If that's how it stands, I'm better used elsewhere. Maybe it's time I made good on my promise and went to study under Leo at the Archive after all."
Ferron sat with that for a long moment before finally saying, quietly, "I understand."
"You may travel with Julius to Oldtown, to sell the grain and deliver the letter to the King," he added. "He'll see you're given enough coin to look after yourself properly while you're there."
"Am I the only one who thinks he oughtn't go?" Julius muttered.
"The Duke has spoken," Ed said, with the particular finality of a man closing out a report. "I wish you well, Master Remus. For what it's worth, logging your work here as a net gain for this household. Whatever else comes of it."
The next morning, servants loaded sacks of grain onto a line of wagons while Remus said his goodbyes to his mother in the courtyard, the early light still pale and cold.
"Don't forget to eat three meals a day, and mind your teeth," Duchess Aminala said, straightening the collar of his travel coat with small, fussing motions.
"I will."
"Stay away from drink, no matter how hard your new friends push it on you."
"I will."
"Also-"
"I'll be fine," Remus said, gently cutting her off before the list could grow longer. "Watch over Father. He needs you more than I do right now."
"Give my love to your brother and sister, once you reach Oldtown," Ferron added from the doorway, leaning on a cane he still needed more than he liked to admit. "Though I expect your brother's already off chasing some adventure, and your sister's too buried in work to spare you much time."
His mother hugged him hard, eyes bright and wet, before finally stepping back and letting him climb up onto the wagon beside Julius.
The caravan pulled away, wheels grinding slow against the packed dirt road, and Remus watched the manor shrink behind them until it was nothing more than a dark smudge against the tree line, no larger, he thought, than a stray mark of charcoal on a page.
"Why did you let him go?" Aminala asked her husband quietly, watching the same shrinking dot.
"It isn't safe for him here," Ferron said.
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