“You left me,” Ake said. “You left me behind in Vultjag because you didn’t want me taken with the others at Sieroch.”

“Mm,” Baru grunted. “Fetch me more paper.”

“You could have left Tain Hu instead,” Ake whispered.

“I couldn’t leave Hu.” Baru wrung out her wrist. “She was a duchess. I had to bring the rebel leadership together in one place. I had to give them a convincing victory and then an immediate crushing reversal, to show the confidence of Falcrest’s control. Also, I wanted every moment I could get with her. Will you sign this?”

“Not until you tell me what it is, and I read it, in case you’ve lied.”

The order needed a clean draft anyway. Baru snatched a fresh sheet from the pile. “This is your letter of provisional governorship. I’m going to stamp it with something called an incryptor, which creates a special polestar mark. That will bind this document directly to the Emperor’s authority. When you go home, if anyone tries to stop you from doing what I’ve written here, you show them this seal—”

Everyone stiffened. “Home?” Ude gasped.

“Yes. I’m pardoning all of you, unconditionally.”

“You’re conceding,” Ake said, in cautious wonder.

“Oh, I’m far more than conceding.” Baru signed, in tight rectilinear blocks, AGONIST. “Ake, you will rule the North.”

“I will what?”

“You’re familiar with the provincial economy through your work in the Fiat Bank. You understand the difficulties of governance during the winter, and the Coyote mutineers look up to you as Duchess Vultjag’s friend. A perfect choice, I think.”

Ake looked as if she’d just drawn a bucket of rattlesnakes from the well. “I will not be your pawn,” she said, thinly. “None of us will. Not again.”

“You won’t be anyone’s pawn. I told you. This order grants you broad authority within your dominion. You can carry on Tain Hu’s work as you see fit.”

“But Aurdwynn has a governor,” the herbalist Yythel said, reminding Baru that she was literate, and followed news, and developed strong opinions. “Heingyl Ri is in the Governor’s House.”

“I don’t care,” Baru snapped. “She can write me a letter of complaint.” Her incryptor jumped in her fist and smashed the Imperial mark onto the letter. She raised it up and offered it to Ake’s trembling hands.

“Your Majesty…” She smoothed the letter on the table. “These are wartime emergency powers.”

“Yes, of course.” Baru couldn’t help but grin, she was so very clever. “The North of Aurdwynn is in a state of open rebellion, isn’t it? Lawless and disordered.”

“The rebellion is over—”