“The merchants and farmers refuse to feed them because they can’t,” Arista explained. “The empire confiscated the city’s reserves when the Imperialists took control. The rains and the war destroyed most of this year’s crops. The city doesn’t have enough to feed its citizens, much less an army. Fall is here, and cold weather is on its way. These people don’t know how they will survive the winter. They can’t take care of themselves with a thousand soldiers raiding their shops and farms. We’re thankful for your contribution in taking the city, but your continued presence threatens to destroy what you risked your lives to liberate. You must leave.”

“If I force them back into camps with inadequate food and leaky canvas shelters, half will desert. As it is, many are talking of going home for the harvest season. I shouldn’t have to tell you that if this army disappears, the empire will take this city back.”

Arista shook her head. “When Degan Gaunt was in charge, the Nationalist army lived under similar conditions for months without it being a problem. The soldiers are becoming complacent here in Ratibor. Perhaps it’s time you pressed on to Aquesta.”

Renquist stiffened at the suggestion. “Gaunt’s capture makes taking Aquesta all the more difficult. I need time to gather information and I’m waiting for reinforcements and supplies from Delgos. Attacking the capital won’t be like taking Vernes or Ratibor. The Imperialists will fight to the last man to defend their empress. No. We need to stay here until I’m fully prepared.”

“Wait if you must, but not here,” she replied firmly.

“What if I refuse?” His eyes narrowed.

Arista put the parchments she was holding on the desk but said nothing.

“My army conquered this city,” he told her pointedly. “You hold authority only because I allow it. I don’t take orders from you. You’re not a princess here, and I’m not your serf. My responsibility is to my men, not to this city and certainly not to you.”

Arista slowly rose.

“I’m the mayor of this city,” she said, her voice growing in authority, “appointed by the people. Furthermore, I’m steward and acting administrator of all of Rhenydd, again by the consent of those who live here. You and your army are here by my leave.”

“You are a princess from Melengar! At least I was born in Rhenydd.”

“Regardless of your personal feelings toward me, you’ll respect the authority of this office and do as I say.”

“And if I don’t?” he asked coldly.