The Arrival of the Eleventh
It had been ten generations since the county last hosted an Imperial Administrator—a post so prestigious and rare that most locals considered it myth more than memory. But when the black carriage rolled through the southern pass, pulled by obsidian-coated stallions and escorted by twelve silver-bannered riders, even the skies seemed to pay attention.
The townsfolk gathered in the square, whispering and jostling, as the carriage doors opened.
Out stepped Joseline Ace, clothed in indigo velvet marked with the seal of the Ministry of Justice. Her boots clicked against the cobblestones like a clock striking law into place. She was young, mid-thirties perhaps, with gloved hands and an unreadable expression that flickered only briefly into a smile as she looked upon the town.
"I thought it would be... smaller," she murmured.
Beside her, a steward unfurled a scroll.
"In the name of Empress Regina of the Verdant Empire, the Ministry of Justice declares this district hereby under official observation and stewardship by appointment of Imperial Administrator Joseline Ace, Eleventh in her line, Keeper of Regional Records, and Envoy of the Southern Law."
The townsfolk bowed. Even the mayor fell to a knee.
From behind the crowd, Jacob Silvan watched quietly, one brow raised.
David nudged him. "Well. Looks like your tidy little corner just got very... imperial."
---
Later That Day — At the Magistrate's Office
Joseline walked through the magistrate's halls with cool precision. She didn't comment on the clean ledgers, the stacked parchments, or the seamless filing systems. She didn't need to.
She already knew who was responsible.
She found Jacob alone in the courtroom, adjusting the banners before the day's hearings.
"Assistant Magistrate Silvan," she said, her voice smooth as lacquered oak.
He turned, bowed instinctively. "Administrator Ace. Welcome to—"
"I've read your reports," she said, stepping forward. "Meticulous. Useful. Idealistic."
Jacob blinked. "Thank you...?"
She stepped past him, inspecting the courtroom like a ship's captain inspecting her deck.
"I will be overseeing administrative management for this district," she said, "and by Imperial order, I outrank all local authorities, including the mayor, the guard captains, and the magistrate."
Jacob held his breath. "Understood."
"I won't interfere with your court unless absolutely necessary," she added, glancing back. "And I'm not here to undo what you've done. Quite the opposite."
That surprised him.
Joseline walked to the high desk and tapped the wood with a single finger.
"The Empire needs people like you," she said. "People who remind the provinces that justice is not just something spoken of in marble halls."
Jacob frowned slightly. "Then... why are you here?"
She met his gaze, her words deliberate. "To help you build something that lasts."
---
That Evening — In the Administrator's Tower
Joseline lit no candles. She sat by the window, her gloves removed, revealing callused fingers inked with the faint stains of a bureaucrat's burden.
Her steward entered.
"Shall I begin the coded report, my lady?"
She nodded.
"To the Ministry of Justice," she said softly. "Subject: Silvan, Jacob. Status: Loyal. Effective. Unaware of our directive. Public trust rising. Regional stability improving. Recommendation: Continue silent support."
The steward scribbled furiously.
"Anything else, my lady?"
Joseline looked out at the town—the warm glow of the tavern, the sounds of a village not afraid of its shadows for once.
"Yes," she said. "Tell them he's not the only seed planted in the mud."
Maids, Misdirection, and Mandates
The rain returned with a cold whisper, sheeting the cobbled paths in silver and drowning whispers in the gutters.
Three families had come, separately, quietly—each telling the same tale in anxious tones. Their daughters, maids employed at the estate of Governor Leto Carwell, had gone missing over the last two weeks.
"No letters. No wages. Nothing," said one tearful mother.
Jacob wrote every word, offered every comfort. Then, as always, he began digging.
---
Day One
He sent an official request to inspect the estate grounds.
It was denied.
"Private property," read the terse reply. "No reason for search."
David narrowed his eyes. "Shall I lean on a few arms?"
Jacob shook his head. "We do this right. If we bend law to chase law, we lose the people."
Instead, he tried to interview the remaining staff. They were tight-lipped, pale, and clearly frightened. One maid dropped her broom when he asked if she knew a girl named Frella.
The doors of the estate were shut tighter than a noble's purse.
---
Day Two
Jacob returned with a court-stamped summons for Governor Carwell to appear for questioning.
He was "unavailable for public matters."
That evening, Jacob received a formal reprimand—signed by the Governor's own seal—threatening punitive action for "harassment of a respected official's household."
David spat the words when he read them. "That bloated lizard's hiding something."
Jacob stared out at the tower where the imperial banner flew—where Administrator Joseline Ace had made her base.
He didn't look away.
---
Day Three
He tried to speak with the guards at the estate gates. One quietly whispered that two of the missing maids had been sick before they vanished. He said no more.
That evening, Jacob sat at his desk in the quiet magistrate's hall. The lamp burned low. His ink was already drying on a formal document: Petition of Emergency Oversight—Filed by Assistant Magistrate Jacob Silvan.
He wrote the last line without shaking.
> "When even lowborn lives vanish and the law looks away, there is no law at all."
He sealed it and handed it to the fastest courier.
"To the Administrator's Tower," he said.
---
Administrator Ace Responds
The letter reached Joseline Ace within the hour.
She read it once.
Then again.
Then she stood.
"Steward," she said coolly. "Prepare the Imperial Quill. Draft a writ of authority—Level Three Override."
The steward blinked. "That's—"
"Yes. That is the level for abuse of rank obstructing justice under the Crown's Seal. Governor Carwell is to be removed from his home, his household sealed, and he is to be placed under arrest."
The steward hurried. Joseline strode to the window, her voice calm and sharp as winter wind.
"Have him dragged out in front of the town."
---
Later That Night — The County Square
Torches flickered as townfolk gathered under the rain-drenched eaves. A contingent of imperial riders stood outside Governor Carwell's estate.
From within came shouting.
Moments later, Leto Carwell, still in his sleeping robes, was pulled out in shackles.
The town gasped. The nobles on the hill watched with narrowed eyes.
From the magistrate's side, Jacob and David approached. Jacob said nothing. He only watched as the man who had tried to bury truth was dragged toward the magistrate's prison.
Joseline stood in the square, arms folded, cloak dripping from the storm. She gave Jacob a nod.
"Keep digging," she said. "This was the first stone. There may be a mountain beneath it."
Jacob bowed. "Yes, Administrator."
---
In the Shadows of the Sealed Estate
The investigation was only beginning.
With the estate now under official review, Jacob and David returned to find abandoned rooms, burned ledgers, and secret paths behind walls.
But of the missing maids, there was still no trace.
What they did find, however, was a hidden door leading underground—freshly sealed, with a rusted symbol etched into the stone. One that had nothing to do with nobility.
David ran his fingers across it.
"What in the name of the Empire... is that?"
Jacob stared, suddenly cold.
"We may have just stepped past law," he murmured. "And into something older."