The morning sun poured through the tall windows, gilding the scatter of parchments across the table. Resme bent over the ledgers, lips moving faintly as she counted columns of names and dues. Kalistra leaned against the map beside her, tracing borders with an idle finger.
"These estates are weighty, Princess," Resme said, closing one ledger with care. "Once the full accounts arrive, I can begin setting them in order."
Metheea's gaze lingered on the inked columns, unease curling in her chest. "And Lord Jegaspe? Has he written since the proclamation?"
Resme paused. "No, Princess. Not a word."
The silence pressed harder. Even after her brother's declaration, Jegaspe had not sent his loyalty, not even a token letter. It gnawed at her. Perhaps the ledgers hide more than they show. Perhaps he has been taking what is mine.
Her voice sharpened. "Then I will not wait for him. Schedule a visit to the nearest holding. A week from now, I will see it myself."
