"You know," Voss said, breaking the silence as he stirred a small glass of steamed eldenwood tonic, "you remind me of your mother when she was your age."
Fornos, still resting lazily on the couch, head in Mary's lap, arched an eyebrow. "Father, I know Mother was called the 'Ice Ledger' in her youth. That's ancient history."
"I'm not talking about that title," Voss replied with a faint smirk.
Fornos tilted his head. "Then what title are you referring to?"
"The one reserved for one of the founding minds behind the Iron Bank."
Fornos sat up sharply. "Father, you really don't know how to joke. If Mother had founded the Iron Bank, why would you let me destroy it?"
Mary let out a quiet breath, neither denying nor confirming.
Fornos looked between them, narrowing his eyes. "Wait. You're serious."
Mary reached over to smooth a crease in her silk sleeve. "You uprooted the entire institution because one of their regional executives insulted your father during a trade summit."
"They implied I was a merchant lackey pretending to play noble," Voss added, his tone neutral, but Fornos could still detect the residual sting. "They questioned our family's legitimacy because we didn't marry into a noble house."
"I allowed it," Mary said simply. "Because the Iron Bank stood against our marriage from the beginning. That man merely voiced what others believed."
Fornos blinked, processing. "So let me get this straight. You—Mother—founded one of the wealthiest financial entities in the Western Peninsula, left it behind to marry a man the bank didn't approve of, and then quietly gave me permission to annihilate it when one of their directors got snide with Father?"
Mary nodded once. "Correct."
Voss chuckled. "She didn't even flinch when you started targeting their branches. I was the one telling her to reconsider."
Fornos ran a hand through his hair. "And you call me manipulative."
"You are manipulative," Mary replied without missing a beat. "But you learned it honestly."
The tension that had lingered since their confrontation began to dissolve into something lighter—not exactly warmth, but mutual understanding. Fornos leaned forward and poured himself another glass of herbwine, needing something to cool the fire of revelation burning behind his eyes.
"You know," he said slowly, swirling the drink in the glass, "I thought I was building something new. A force. A company. An ideology of control and independence. But I think I'm just following family tradition."
"Every generation adapts," Voss said. "My father worked steel and sold ores to armies. I built a trade empire. Your mother created an economic dominion and then abandoned it for love. And now, you've built an army from ash."
"I'm not sure if that's poetic or terrifying," Fornos muttered.
Mary looked over at him, her eyes colder now, like a blade beneath silk. "What you did to the Iron Bank showed me you were ready."
"Ready for what?"
"To start playing at our level."
Voss sighed and sat forward. "Your warband, your golems, even your ambitions—they're impressive, but they are the tip of the spear. The real battles are fought in back rooms, in ledgers, and in who controls the flow of resources before they even reach the front lines."
Fornos smirked. "You're trying to tell me I still have more to learn?"
"No," Mary replied. "We're telling you that now you've passed the test, we can speak plainly."
Fornos's gaze sharpened. "Go on."
"You think this is about building an army to gain independence," Mary said. "But what you're building is a dynasty—one that will need more than soldiers and golems. You need infrastructure, banking arms, secure relay networks, and most importantly—faith from those beneath you."
"I already command fear," Fornos replied.
"Fear is temporary," Voss said. "Faith is legacy."
Mary added, "The Iron Bank wasn't just a lender. It was an enforcer of order through debt. It dictated wars without lifting a blade. And we gave that up—for this family."
Fornos's voice was quieter now. "You want me to rebuild it."
"No," Mary said. "We want you to build something better. You've proven you can destroy giants. Now prove you can replace them."
Fornos leaned back, glass resting on his knee, thoughts spinning. "The Ash Company can be more than a warband…"
"It must be," Voss said. "Or it'll be crushed the moment the noble houses see it as a threat."
Fornos stood and began pacing, mind racing. "If we convert it into a service—golem-based security, privatized resource extraction, war logistics, and controlled expansion—we can create a dependency. Nobles won't want to destroy us. They'll need us."
"Good," Mary said, smiling faintly. "Now you're thinking like a Dag."
Fornos turned to her. "And what about the people in the Fifth Continent? My soldiers. My clients. The children."
"They are your first shareholders," Mary said. "Treat them like that. Keep them fed, trained, and bound by contract instead of collars."
Fornos stared into his cup, expression unreadable. "And if they rebel?"
"Then you're not their leader anymore," Voss said simply. "Just another tyrant with a golem."
A beat passed.
Then Fornos smiled. "Well. That just means I'll have to be a better tyrant."