The gates of Oakhaven didn't just open; they groaned under the weight of their own gold leaf.
As our carriage rolled through the secondary wall, I pressed my forehead against the glass. The Capital was a sprawling masterpiece of white marble and aggressive architecture. Every spire seemed designed to remind you that you were small, and the Emperor was very, very large.
"Close your mouth, Elara," Kaelen said from the seat across from me. He hadn't stopped staring at me since we crossed the city limits. "You look like a tourist. You're supposed to be a terrifying financial genius."
"I'm doing a cost-benefit analysis of the masonry," I lied, snapping my jaw shut. "The sheer amount of wasted capital in these fortifications is staggering. Do you know how many social programs you could fund with the gold on those gate-hinges?"
Kaelen let out a short, dry laugh. "In this city, the gold on the hinges is the only thing keeping the peace. It tells the commoners we're too rich to fail."
"Spoken like a man who has never seen a hyperinflation crisis," I muttered.
The carriage came to a halt in the palace courtyard, and the door was yanked open by a footman in a uniform that probably cost more than my first apartment.
I stepped out, my boots clicking sharply against the polished stone. I made sure to adjust my bodice—making sure the hidden bearer bonds didn't crinkle. I felt like a walking bank vault.
Standing at the base of the Great Stairs was a reception committee. At the center was a man who looked like he had been carved out of salt and dressed by a peacock. He had thin, calculating eyes and a smile that didn't reach past his teeth.
"Your Highness," the man said, bowing just low enough to be polite, but not a second longer. "We have been expecting you. And this… must be the consultant from the Lexen province."
He said 'consultant' the way someone might say 'sewage leak.'
"Lord Vane," Kaelen said, his voice dropping an octave into his 'Prince' persona. He stepped up beside me, his hand resting—quite possessively—on the small of my back. "Lady Elara is here at my personal invitation. She will be reviewing the Imperial Accounts. All of them."
Vane's smile twitched. "The Imperial Accounts? Surely, Your Highness, a… provincial lady… might find the complexity of the Capital's treasury a bit… overwhelming? Perhaps she should start with the kitchen receipts?"
I felt a spark of familiar corporate rage. I had dealt with men like Vane my entire past life—the ones who thought a woman with a calculator was just playing with toys.
"Lord Vane, is it?" I stepped forward, tilting my head. "I noticed your rings. Grade-A pigeon-blood rubies. Remarkable. Though, according to the Imperial Sumptuary Laws, only the Chancellor is allowed to wear stones of that clarity, and yet, you're wearing three."
Vane's hand instinctively covered his other hand. "They are family heirlooms."
"Interesting," I hummed, walking a slow circle around him. "Because the Lexen Province used to export rubies of that exact cut to the Treasury, only for them to 'disappear' during transit three years ago. I look forward to seeing the 'inheritance tax' receipts for those, My Lord. I'll be starting my audit with the Chancellor's discretionary fund."
The silence that followed was delicious. I could practically hear Kaelen's grin.
"She's quite thorough, isn't she?" Kaelen remarked, gesturing for me to lead the way.
Later that night, I was escorted to my "office." It wasn't an office; it was a tower room filled with thousands of scrolls, dusty ledgers, and a single, flickering mana-lamp.
"You've made an enemy," Kaelen said, leaning against the doorframe as I surveyed the mountain of paperwork.
"I've made a distraction," I corrected, pulling out my reading glasses (which I'd had a local artisan make based on my memory). "Vane is hiding something massive. You don't get that defensive over a few rings unless you're worried about the whole hoard."
Kaelen walked into the room, his presence making the space feel suddenly very small. He reached out, picking up a stray ledger. "The Emperor expects a report in three days. If you can't prove Vane is skimming, he'll have you deported back to the Lexen estate. And I won't be there to stop the executioner this time."
I looked at the towers of paper, then back at the Prince.
"Three days?" I laughed, a sharp, manic sound. "Your Highness, give me a pot of black tea and total silence, and I'll have his head on a platter by breakfast. I'm an accountant. We don't need swords to kill people. We use decimal points."
Kaelen stared at me for a long beat. Then, he reached down and squeezed my hand. "Don't work too late, Elara. I'd hate to see those purple eyes get bloodshot. It would ruin the aesthetic of my favorite treasure."
He left, the door clicking shut behind him.
I sat down at the desk, cracked my knuckles, and opened the first book.
"Alright, Vane," I whispered, my eyes scanning the rows of numbers. "Let's see how much you've been stealing from my retirement fund."