The tension in Duskwatch was palpable as news of the imperial envoy’s arrival spread. Merchants hurried to clean their stalls, militia members polished their armor, and Dorian was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  "My lord," he stammered, pacing in Lucian’s office. "The Emperor’s envoy will arrive tomorrow. We need a plan!"

  Lucian reclined lazily in his chair. "Easy. We let them see what they want to see."

  Elaine snorted. "And what exactly is that?"

  Lucian waved a hand. "A thriving town, strong leadership, a hint of mystery. Nobles love that stuff."

  Dorian’s face twitched. "You… you make it sound like we’re hosting a masquerade ball, not a political delegation!"

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  Lucian grinned. "Same thing, really. Just with more paperwork."

  The next morning, the town square was transformed. Banners flew, musicians played cheerful tunes, and even the militia stood in an impressive formation (after several hours of practice). When the envoy’s carriage finally arrived, the entire town held its breath.

  Out stepped Lord Hadrian Vale, a sharp-eyed man draped in imperial finery. His calculating gaze swept across the town before settling on Lucian.

  "Lord Veilwood," he said, voice cool and measured. "The Emperor has taken great interest in your… methods."

  Lucian smiled pleasantly, ignoring the beads of sweat forming on Dorian’s brow. "Naturally. Duskwatch is a model of efficiency."

  Hadrian raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? Then I look forward to seeing it firsthand."

  Lucian clapped his hands. "Great! Right this way. Let’s start with the marketplace. It practically runs itself!"

  Dorian groaned internally. That’s what I’m afraid of…