In the grand scheme of things, an army was both the least useful a most essential part. She had known that from the very moment the Prince had anheir betrothal. So, until this point, she had sought out how best to approach the issue. Naturally, one had to look to the A Romans. While it would have been easy to focus on the imperial years, it was the case that she was, in a sense, militarising a city and so the republic period better matched.

  She did not think herself particurly talented on matters of war, nor did she think her reading oopic gave her a particur expertise. That was why she had sought out those who knew better. Imitation was ohing, such as the hierarchy of officers she had put in pce. Ahiirely was uanding how to transte wisdom from those ao these modern times.

  Her knight had a willio embrace ge and could lead men into battle, yet she found him servative. Rather, in her husband, she found promise. He wished for answers. It was this ear desire to uand that she so prized, better still that he would seek answers with humility, her so sure of himself that he refused help nor so dull as to need everything spelled out. Although it remaio be seen how decisive he would be in battle, she felt that was an area he could hone.

  “Darling has spoken before anisations which justify themselves.”

  His unspokeion fell amidst the summer breeze, a refreshing touch as the sun’s heat broke dawn’s chill. Over this honeymoon-year, she had been rather amused by his ge, a familiarity in how he now said so little a asked so much.

  “Dear has a good memory,” she answered.

  He let out a light ugh that the weak wind swept away.

  Ahead of them, the militia trained. It was as simple as walking in a line along a road and then turning to the side. Simple, however, did not mean natural. The better an army could walk along a road, the quicker it would reach its destination; it needed not be stated the importance of that.

  Little by little, that weak wind swept away his lingering smile.

  “If I may speak holy, I feel… lost. You were right to say this was a goement for myself and I have learned so much. Oher hand, all you asked of me was to lead your army, yet I fear now that there is little more I could even do.”

  Such words were ly addressed to her, merely expressed aloud, quiet words that he hoped the weak wind would sweep away too. However, she had always been a good listener.

  “If I may be blunt, does dear think his father enced him to be a good son?” she asked.

  His lips curled into an awkward smile and he lightly said, “If you were to ask my brother—”

  “I am asking you.”

  That awkward smile froze, theed, left behind something hollow. “What does it eveo be a good son?” he asked.

  It was not a joke, almost a plea, almost but not quite. Rather, it was wistful and nothing more. A reminisce of a time when he had dearly wished for an answer. Of course, none had ever been given. His brother had simply been good in every way, and he had been bad in every way, including—especially—in ways his father did not know.

  “A master craftsman is a master, not because he uands how to teach others or how to lead or manage, but because of his seniority in the craft. In this, it bees clear why guilds rely on legal protes. A father is little different. His position of seniority is i and unshakeable, thus he would solidate all authority into seniority.”

  He listened closely and, by the end, couldn’t help but softly smile. “You speak as if fathers are tyrannical kings.”

  “It is better to say kings are tyrannical fathers,” she said, her tone clear that this was no joke. “That is beside the point, though. One should not ighe truth because it sounds unbelievable. Pray tell, as a child, did your father ever promise? Or is it only when you held power over yourself that your father would eain such weakness?”

  Although he lowered his head in thought, of course he khe answer. Even her previous corre of kings as fathers now settled into pce.

  “I do n this up to shame dear,” she said, her tone softer now, gentle. “However, I think being aware of this brings a natural crity. Dear asked what it means to be a good so such a measurement is set by the father, measured by the father, and announced by the father. What dear dares not even sider is the precise opposite, that of whether his father is a good father.”

  She paused there; he uood why, the moment her hands holding on to his arm. A simple gesture, chaste, ohat she often performed in public. Of all things, he had uimated her ability to perform the most.

  “Dear asked about those things which justify themselves. For the most part, these things emerge naturally. However, they are things made up of people, thus are anything but natural. A guild does not bee a guild because it is the best choice for some purpose, but because it offers those with power some particur be. So it is that we have something that is both resilient a without purpose. Or rather, its purpose is to itself, not to the city nor the ruler. Any bes or taxes it pays are necessary in pursuit of its purpose and it should naturally seek to reduce these ies if ever possible.”

  He let out a long breath, her expnation, while not overly novel pared to previous discussions, still proved heavy when juxtaposed with the other half of what she had spoken about. That, to his father, he was an unavoidable expense and little more. Not that he hadn’t known that for a long time already, had eveold as much by his father.

  “It is my iion to making sting ges. Thus, these ges must also justify themselves, even in the face of petition and even in the abseny support. Does dear know what I most prize in these endeavours?”

  Her question hung in the air, not with great pressure, ihe opposite, a gentle pull that coaxed an answer from him.

  “I would suppose you look for steady ine,” he said with a hint of pride.

  She tittered, a hand over her mouth, which rather shattered his egile as it was this moment.

  “Pray tell what it is, then,” he said.

  His surliness certainly endeared him to her, a smile lingering on her lips. “It is managers. A good manager will hire good workers and ensure each worker has appropriate work to do. Good workers with appropriate work are productive. If we pare the disruption caused by a bad worker to that caused by a bad manager, it is easy to see that a bad manager is much worse as they would hire bad workers as well as improperly assign work to good workers.”

  Although a longer expnation than he expected, and ohat still felt g, he appreciated it. However his thoughts still stu the other issues they’d discussed. That did not mean he did not think over what she had said, though.

  “Then is it not important to make ges that do not rely on a good manager?”

  A note of ughter left her lips, mingling with the breeze. “The trick, as I see it, is to first establish something good, then to make it sturdy. The Veians, for example. One wonders how they have avoided most internal trouble and, to me, it stems from their ele. While not airely accurate description, it is as if they vote each time to eliminate someone and so, at the end, the only o is inoffeo all and mild in ambitions. This leaves free everyone else to tinue doing those things they are good at without much disruption from above.”

  His knowledge of Veian history and politics left much to be desired; however, he heard in her words an echo of something else. “The joint suls with their veto powers,” he said, more a whisper, “so signifit ge required agreement or promise.”

  To that, she said nothing, left him to his thoughts while she watched the men of the militia walk.

  “I have been full of doubt. All along, I waited for you to slip-up, to reveal some other pn. Ygestion to sider what good we may aplish together, this manner of rulership that goes against the on wisdom. However, this is your truth, is it not?”

  She did not give an immediate answer, yet she did not dawdle either. The breeze brushed against them, a wele chill in the growi, and her voice joi.

  “I believe people are good.”

  It hit him hard, bowing his head; she responded by raising her own, a smile on her lips, that it would have looked to those watg as if the couple were sharing a sweet moment.

  Doubt, no, it had been his pessimism which kept him from believing ihat he could tell himself she was both thoughtful and misguided, the world not as simple as she made it seem.

  However, faced with her initial reforms to the militia, he could no longer deny her petenot brilliance, but petence. She did not simply round up a bunch of peasants and hand them spears and arquebuses and expect success.

  An imitation, she called it, thick with self-abasement. Yet it resembled nothing, resembled everything. The A Romans, the Czechs, the Swiss, the Polish, the Hungarians, even the Muslims. It was as if she read through every book ever written on warfare and taken notes.

  Perhaps she had.

  Earlier in the day, he had withe strength of gunpowder. These bombard crews were not the bumbling men he had heard stories of before. Ten crews of six men, each capable of loosing a shot in a minute. With the arquebusiers, her first pany could ma least two shots in a minute, albeit then slowed by fouling.

  How would a battle with su army go? He didn’t know—couldn’t know. Not yet, at least.

  Her hands on his arm dropped down, brushed against his hand, and her voice followed the gentle wind. “There are those who cim to be rational, that their beliefs naturally follow from the facts. What this means is that any attempt to question those beliefs is necessarily an atta their very being as it calls into doubt their ability to reason. Of course, few people go out of their way to believe things they know untrue, rather they do not think to question those beliefs they agree with or to look again at those beliefs they have already accepted.”

  She paused there; a gentle ugh spilled from her lips and her head bumped against his shoulder.

  “In war, there is certainly a measure of power in the fidence belief brings. There is a simir measure of power in strict order and harsh discipline. However, the bes of these are, in a sense, fleeting. That they are justified in victory, only to bee inexplicable i. Or rather, the expnation bees that the army did not suffitly believe, or that they did not impose striough discipline.”

  “That everything must justify itself.”

  His quiet interruption gave her pause, yet the smile he heard in her words that followed told him she did not mind. “I believe in dear and would support him as best I may. That all I ask is to know the expectations he has for himself, such that I would hold him to those alone.”

  At st, the knife she had brandished earlier now buried itself deep into his gut. The idle talk about his father not without purpose. No, she never did anything without purpose. Nor was it lost on him that her question did not explicitly limit itself to the anding of her army. How, even now, she would not force him into a role he did not think himself capable in.

  A bad worker an issue, a bad manager much worse.

  “It is a great shame you would have no daughter,” he whispered, and he meant it with all his heart.

  “I know.”

  He could uand now how necessary this marriage had been to her, how she could strive so early to prove herself, disregarding any obstacle, even—especially—her own beliefs. If only she had thought God would uand.

  If only.

  However, he dared not broach such a topic given his own situation. That did not mean he had nothing to say.

  “I accept the ission.”

  His gentle voice joihe breeze, yet was still clearly heard. “King Sigismund will be at war with the Greeks again within a year. At that time, I shall propose sending a small force to assist the Greeks, perhaps two hundred men and four ons. They may leave early uhe pretence of training with the Austrians and then march through Hungary to reach the front.”

  He drew in a breath, unprepared for the news. “You are fident?”

  “Polish nobles have been celling grain tracts with Imperial merts, King Sigismund has beeing with many of the more moderate members of the Sejm, and there has been a notable shipment of ons from Sweden.”

  Of course she knew. He gave his a rub, the extent of what she alluded to at the tre of his thoughts. “What reason have we to interfere?”

  “To King Sigismund, promise means that he takes two steps forward and theep back. We ot promise with such a neighbour.”

  Although he nodded along, he found his question unanswered. Found his question did not need more than that answer. Rather, what he truly wao knohy she desired a capable army at all, yet that itself was a foolish question, one he already well-khe ao.

  “Then I shall go to Greed be sure not to promise.”

  “Is that so? Pray d Lord Styria along, or someone else you intimately trust, that I would worry less knowing you have someoo look after you,” she said.

  Her voice held no insinuations, perfectly i. However, he heard clearly what went unspoken, ay ugh leaving his mouth. “I am not so needy as to need looking after,” he said lightly.

  “While that may be so, dear o be kind to his wife.”

  He froze. Unlike any time before, she spoke, not evenly, but someetuntly, almost a whine, voice every bit that of a bullied lover. Just whehought he khe full extent of her ability to act, she had to prove him wrong. Had to test him.

  “Okay, okay, I shan’t worry darling,” he said, his own ag on show with his gentle, coaxing voice.

  “Good.”