With short-term funding obtained, I could actually take a moment to breathe.

The remains of the statue had been carted off to the Royal Mint, where Kalvin’s fire mages would melt it down and hand it to a smith, who would turn it into coins that would finance the beginning of Larheim’s recovery.

So I’d decided to explore the palace. Night had fallen, and candles lit the stone hallways, each held in silver cases. How much would those be worth? More than that, who had lit them? Hana and Shia had been with me the entire time, and Duke Kalvin had only just returned—dinner would be soon, and I had a goal.

I didn’t want to be the kind of ruler who lorded it over people, insisting they bowed to me and knew their place. Maybe some people would respect that, but it seemed lonely.

I’d had enough of that before my transmigration.

My explorations had revealed one detail—apparently, I still had a maid. Just the one—Ella, she was called—and when I happened upon her dusting some corner of an old drawing room, she’d looked haggard and weary. Her dress was frayed, and her white apron dyed grey by time.

Instantly, I felt horrible for her. Imagine having to maintain an entire palace by yourself. When I asked her to direct me to the kitchens, she insisted on cooking herself, but I insisted back and, well, I was King. She had to listen.

It wasn’t entirely selfless. I’d spent most of my time since arriving with others, and I needed some time alone to order my thoughts. Besides that, I just liked cooking.

Plus, my short time with these people had awoken something previously hidden in me, a longing I’d kept chained within a deep well of pessimism. To satisfy it, I had to learn more about them.

Dinner and wine made the perfect lubricant.

I also wanted to check my status, and maybe spend some of my hard-earned SP. I only had 5, but I had no idea what the prices of Skills were, or even which were available. So I entered the kitchen, a massive affair with a long counter through the middle, clay ovens and huge ranges, and pots, pans, and knives hanging from racks on the ceiling.

The pantry was in the back, through a door that looked like it belonged in a hovel, not a palace. Inside, I found dried meats and pickled vegetables, stuff that wouldn’t spoil. I asked the System about refrigeration techniques, but received no answer.

It seemed that while it would help with some things, I was on my own for others.

Luckily, Ella was passing by, so I asked her.

“O—only a Mage can perform such wonders, sire,” she said, her mouth unsure whether to be open or closed.

“What about enchantments?” I asked. “Can’t magic be placed into items?”

“Yes, sire,” she said. “But the enchantment needs to be activated, you see, and it takes a Mage to do it.”

I sighed. It looked like my idea of enchanted indoor plumbing had gone down the toilet. Or, in this case, a rather large and disgusting hole in the floor.

Disappointed, I set my mind to preparing venison, potatoes, and some kind of vegetable that looked like an aubergine but smelled like an onion. As the meat roasted and the veggies steamed, I finally brought up the status screen in my mind.

I huffed. Improvement was slow, but Morale was finally positive, if still low, and I had more AP now. My speech had actually worked. Everything else, though, was utterly depressing.

Well, at least my Economy had improved somewhat. We had money now, but it was useless until it cycled. An economy was like a river—it had to move, undulate in time with the water’s flow before evaporating, becoming clouds and rain and eventually ending up back where it started. The quicker this process, the healthier it was.

I was happy to see my new Skills being counted, and focused on the tab to see what was available to me.

My heart sank.

What the fuck, System? Why did it have to make things so hard? Weren’t Skills supposed to be a key part of any RPG mechanics?

Then again, this wasn’t actually a game. The people weren’t NPCs, and all danger was very real. I felt that when Cannara’s knife touched my neck. If it was a game, I probably wouldn’t have been so bothered, but an entire country of real, breathing people depended on me now.

It’s enough to make anyone sweat.

There were plenty of other areas I still hadn’t examined, though. Focusing on Diplomacy, my brain shuffled to a layout showing five different categories: Allies, NAPs, Enemies, Wars, and Trade. I imagined these would be important later, but for now, I could shuffle them to one side. Our trade was negligible, and I wanted to focus on fixing my own house before I started dealing with other countries.

Eventually, though, it would be unavoidable. Zaleria were already trying to rip us off for food, so maybe it was more important now than I’d figured.

I moved on, however, deciding to come back to the tab when it became relevant. Instead, I fixated on something alien to me: Ruler View.

As I did, my head somersaulted, and I fell to the floor, my vision blurring. In place of the kitchen came a map of the entire continent of Sarabethia, complete with natural structures, landmarks, and borders.

One thing that made me wonder was the scale of everything, and the climates. Atlantea, in the north, was tropical, while the southern Kavsta was snowy. We were in a southern hemisphere, which meant a lot more world to discover. Was this the only landmass?

Defeat the distraction, Oliver!

It was similar to the map I saw when using [Locate Specialist], but seemed somehow more… tactical. While the Larm and Kalvin duchies were shown in full colour, everywhere else was greyed out. These two had overlays informing me of how each stat broke down by area.

From this, I learned that most of the crime was concentrated in the capital and rural areas of my own duchy. Kalvin seemed highly disciplined, but it contributed very little aside from military strength. I could even see Relas’ troops moving toward us.

Each of my subordinates appeared as a labelled dot; three were in the palace, but Cannara was back at the Lion’s Den, for some reason. Well, I wouldn’t dispute her some downtime, and it seemed word of my coronation was spreading.

Whether I had her to thank for that, my exploits with the statue, or both, I wasn’t sure. But either way, it worked for me. Still, I’d have preferred if she checked in more often. I couldn’t be too wary of mysterious enemies suddenly popping up and attacking my subordinates, so having their status viewable at all times was reassuring.

I chose to ignore how similar to stalking this was.

Curious, I focused on her dot to see if there were any specific options. To my surprise, there was a sub-menu, but everything on it was locked. It figured. I’d thought this would be a Civilization style overview, which would be nice, since I’d played a lot of it.

The problem was that I’d never been very good. And that I needed a bunch of Skills to unlock full functionality.

System, how do I unlock Skills?

[Information: Skills are unlocked by activating their prerequisites.]

Okay, then… how do I know what those are?

[These will only be revealed once the Skill has been unlocked.]

This fucking System.

A heavenly aroma drifted up my nostrils, and I dismissed Ruler View. It was definitely a helpful tool, and one that I saw myself using a lot: knowing exactly where each stat came from—and being able to view terrain and troop movements—could be of vital importance in the future. Plus, once I gained access to new Skills, its features would expand.

I’d have to play around with it some more. Ruler View combined with Diplomacy could have a lot of synergy, and I kicked myself for disregarding that tab.

Oh, well. I’d have plenty of time later.

I started plating the meal, pointedly avoiding Ella’s gaze as she peeked around the doorway. With an exhale, I made a plate for her too.

“Ella,” I called, holding it out toward her.

“Sire!” she said, her eyes wide as she popped out. “You shouldn’t—”

“Eat.” I considered inviting her to the dining room, but she’d probably have a heart attack. After instructing her to only focus her cleaning efforts on the core of the palace for now, I exited the kitchen, trying to balance plates on my forearm like I’d seen waiters do back home.

I almost dropped the entire collection twice on my short trek, but managed to keep them whole as I entered the dining room.

It was wide and warm, the walls conspicuously bare of the artwork it had once contained. A fireplace burned at the back, behind a long table with an ornate chair at the head. The rest of the chairs were more austere, but still padded and carved from mahogany or something expensive.

Naturally, I was supposed to sit at the head. I approached, setting plates down in front of the others—Hana sat next to my place, with Duke Kalvin across from her. Several seats down, Shia looked anywhere but at her father, grumbling what I imagined were polysyllabic expletives under her breath.

Curiosity burned within me, but I assured myself I definitely didn’t want to know. Candles burned in the centre of the table, and as I took my seat, Duke Kalvin inhaled deeply, salivating.

“Right then,” I said, pouring some wine from a pitcher Hana had brought from somewhere. It smelled sweet and earthy. I raised my cup, smiling, and eyed each of them in turn. “To new beginnings.”

When I checked Ruler View again, Cannara had inexplicably managed to find her way right on top of us.

For the umpteenth time, I sighed. Then, snickering, the Spy dropped from the ceiling with her own plate of venison and sat next to Shia, ignoring the shocked glances of everyone present.

Everyone but me. All I could do was rub my forehead and wonder how the fuck she’d carried that plate through the rafters.

NiallStephens

Thanks for reading! You can get ahead on Royal Road, or if you so choose, go even further on my Patreon.