"From now on, don't kneel in private."
"Stand and speak. No need to be so stiff."
Being knelt to did feel… gratifying. But after a past life in a world of formal equality, Rowan still found it a bit much.
He smiled and waved it off.
"Yes!"
Frederica answered, but didn't rise—still half-kneeling.
Rowan could only shrug and let it go. If she wasn't willing, there was no point pressing.
"How's recruitment?"
"How many have enlisted?"
Frederica reported honestly.
"Roughly three hundred thousand."
"In three months, we'll be lucky if half remain."
"I see."
Rowan tapped his chin, thinking.
With three hundred thousand, Mondstadt's defense would be more than covered.
Fifty thousand for each of the four standing legions, fifty thousand for the border forces, and another fifty thousand for internal patrols—
three hundred thousand fit perfectly.
But that was the ideal. After screening, keeping only half would not do.
"Three hundred thousand as the standing force is non-negotiable. You must prioritize this."
"Once the standing army reaches three hundred thousand, you can halt recruitment."
"And then…"
Rowan laid out his plan; Frederica offered input here and there.
On every point, she agreed wholeheartedly.
"What about the Constabulary?"
The army plan met no resistance—Rowan's ideas were solid.
Stationing the East Wind Dragon Legion at Stormterror's Lair under Dvalin's tempering;
forming the North Wind Wolf Legion's wolf-riders in cooperation with the Wolvendom packs—
clever, refreshing.
As for whether the Wolf King of the North would agree, Frederica didn't even consider it.
He would have to. The East Wind Dragon was already curled up on Rowan's shoulder munching snacks; compared to that, Andrius—only a remnant of the old North Wind—could hardly refuse.
With the legions sorted, how many should the Constabulary—responsible for internal order—recruit?
"For that…"
"Take the best of those eliminated in the army screening and send them to the Constabulary."
"Right now, Mondstadt has two major population centers: the city proper and Springvale."
"The city will need a large number of patrol teams—recruit fifty thousand there."
"Springvale's smaller—ten thousand should do."
"Start with sixty thousand and test the waters. If it's not enough, recruit more later."
Rowan didn't make absolute promises.
On civil order, he was a novice. The details would have to follow circumstances.
He could provide the framework; Frederica and Seamus would handle the execution.
"Understood. Your will, my king."
"Oh—send Seamus to me as well. There are matters he needs to take on."
Frederica had just turned to leave when Rowan remembered and called her back.
"Yes!"
Moments later,
Seamus and Jean hurried in.
"My king, what do you require?"
Both knelt on one knee and saluted.
"Since the Fatui have been driven out—"
"Their Northland Bank sits idle. Tear it down."
"Replace it with our Mondstadt Bank—our city's own."
"You both understand what that will do for us."
Jean and Seamus exchanged a look and nodded.
Back then, the Fatui were too overbearing; they couldn't stop the Northland Bank from opening.
As if they didn't understand what it meant?
As if they were fools?
They simply had no choice when Snezhnaya's hand pressed so heavily.
Now they finally had the strength. Time to act.
The Fatui had fully withdrawn anyway.
After their Captain obtained a Gnosis from Rowan, every Fatui troop pulled out—those camping in the wilds included. The Northland Bank was an empty shell.
Better to gut it, renovate, and found the Mondstadt Bank—belonging to Mondstadters.
"Understood. We'll establish our Mondstadt Bank as quickly as possible."
"Good. Off you go."
"And make a spectacle of it."
Jean and Seamus left the palace.
Rowan, for the moment, had nothing urgent. Now it was a matter of Albedo finishing the cement—then on to road-building near Dihua Marsh.
Humming, he returned to his chambers and sipped tea by the bed.
"You really have this much free time?"
Dvalin perched on his shoulder, puzzled.
He remembered the founder, Vennessa—feet never touching the ground, always on the move.
Venti, with nothing better to do, played the lyre at her side—until she shooed him away.
But look at Rowan—
seemed like far fewer tasks. Quite leisurely, even. Mostly… talking.
They were both rulers, weren't they? Why such a difference?
"It's not the same."
"Vennessa lived in the age of the old aristocracy. Mondstadt was shattered then—she had to do everything herself."
"Today, although the Fatui's oppression left the city in poor shape, it's still far better than in Vennessa's time."
"Drive out the Fatui, and my job is to propose the vision—and let the right people run it."
"Professional work belongs to professionals. A layman like me shouldn't stand around pointing fingers just to look busy."
(End of Chapter)
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