Following Katarina’s absolute domination of the economic battlefield, the Montecardi estate hadn’t been this loud in years.
Possibly decades. Possibly ever, if you factored in Marga’s voice, which carried like cannon fire and was currently describing some sort of story that did not sound as fun as she was making it out to be.
"—so the bridge is ON FIRE, right, fully engulfed, and the priestess is standing on the other side completely naked because her robes caught a spark and she panicked and threw them off, and Brynn, absolute genius that she is, says ’I’ll catch you’ and the priestess JUMPS—"
"She jumped!" Brynn confirmed from across the yard, three drinks deep and grinning like a woman who’d won something she didn’t know she’d been competing for.
"—and Brynn catches her, and the bridge collapses behind them, and then the priestess looks at Brynn and says ’you can put me down now’ and Brynn says ’I’d rather not’ and—"
"I was being CHIVALROUS!"
"You were being horny, Brynn! There’s a difference!"
The yard erupted. Pia and Lotte were howling. Dagna had wine coming out of her nose. Torrens, who still hadn’t spoken, was shaking with silent laughter in the corner, which was the most emotion Katarina had ever seen from her.
[Nope, that’s all far too adventurous for my taste. I’d rather sit down with a nice little ledger and a nice cup of coffee and look at numbers all day.]
The Parenna and Duccetti representatives were at a table near the wall. Giulietta was three glasses of wine deep, and even Costanza had shaken Katarina’s hand at the door and held it a beat longer than protocol required, probably out of admiration. Hopefully out of admiration.
Vessa was with Brynn’s crew, sitting cross-legged on the ground, listening to Marga with the wide-eyed fascination of a girl who’d grown up in a dry goods shop and had never met people who set bridges on fire for a living.
Seris moved through the crowd carrying wine and making conversation. One thing about her, she was a very good conversationalist. Every time she talked to someone, she made them feel like the most important thing in the room.
[It’s like she’s always had the traits of a good businesswoman and just didn’t have someone to... give her direction, let’s say.]
Katarina stood on the terrace and watched all of it.
The estate was lit up. Lanterns on the balcony rails, a fire pit in the yard, candles on every table.
She opened the Ledger.
It popped up with gilded calligraphy blooming at the edge of her vision, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like a tool answering a question. It felt like it was showing her something.
House Montecardi — Current Holdings:
Montecardi Estate — C+
Vellasera Port — C+
Vineyards — B
Iron Mine — C
Greypass Inland Corridor — B+ (operational, revenue-generating)
Brevaine-Montecardi Trade Partnership — Active
Active Trade Routes: 2
Commercial Alliances: 3 (Parenna, Duccetti, Brevaine)
Revenue: B
Reputation: B-
She read through it slowly.
Three years ago, this dashboard had been a wall of D’s and had a single, particularly infuriating line that said "Active trade routes: 0." Three years ago, the runway was eighteen months and the gardener didn’t care enough to garden and the revenue summary page had a wine stain on it.
Now they controlled half the district. A four-year-old with a photographic memory had started asking questions at dinner and hadn’t stopped, and this was where it led.
More than that, Sovereign Qi had now pooled in her spirit root.
She felt it, warm and dense, settling into the core of her cultivation base with a weight that was different from anything she’d generated through meditation or training. This wasn’t the thin trickle of daily practice. This was the Ledger rewarding systemic achievement, and the system she’d built was an entire regional economy restructured to outlast her.
[It’s a little bit unfair, to be honest. I make good deals, and I get rewarded by way of my body becoming stronger.] She smirked. [I wouldn’t have it any other way.]
The qi kept coming.
More than she’d ever felt at once, filling channels she hadn’t known were empty, and for a moment the night air tasted electric. The lantern light seemed sharper.
She should probably meditate. Sit down, close her eyes, circulate the qi properly, consolidate the gains. A breakthrough’s worth of energy was pouring into her and the smart thing, the strategic thing, was to use it before it dissipated.
But then she heard Vessa laughing from across the area.
It came from across the yard, bright and sudden, at something Brynn had said, and Brynn was laughing too, and then Marga was laughing, and the whole group was a mess of noise and warmth and firelight.
Katarina closed the Ledger.
The gilded text faded. The qi kept pooling.
She’d deal with it later because right now Vessa was laughing and she wanted to know what was so funny.
She walked back inside, down the stairs, and across the yard.
Brynn saw her coming and threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the circle, and Marga was already mid-sentence in a new story that involved a goat and a border checkpoint, and that combination alone was terrifying.
The fire popped. Pia said something to Lotte and they both cackled. Giulietta from the Parenna family was, against all odds, arm-wrestling Dagna, and losing badly, and not caring. Seris drifted past with a wine bottle and kissed the top of Katarina’s head without breaking stride.
Katarina exhaled deeply and closed her eyes.
[Vivienne Ross died alone on a Saturday night in a corner office on the sixty-second floor. Nobody probably found her until Monday.]
She looked around. At the mercs and the merchants and the families and the fire.
[I spent thirty-two years grinding to reach the top of society, and the instant I did, I died. And now, I’m going to do it all over again. My second empire begins here.]