The first thing Adrian learned about creating a new institution was that everyone wanted to control it.
The second thing he learned was that nobody wanted to pay for it.
“Absolutely not.”
Duke Alaric Voss sat at the council table with his arms crossed.
Adrian looked at him.
“You haven’t even heard the full proposal.”
“I’ve heard enough.”
“The engineering corps?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the crown already has the Ministry of Public Works.”
Adrian glanced toward Minister Osric Bell.
The older man shifted awkwardly.
Adrian looked back at Voss.
“And how many engineers does the ministry have?”
Voss hesitated.
“That isn’t the point.”
“It is exactly the point.”
Adrian placed a report on the table.
“Twenty-three engineers, surveyors, architects, and craftsmen were identified across the capital.”
He tapped the report.
“Seven of them work for the crown.”
Voss frowned.
“That’s still enough.”
“No.”
Adrian opened another document.
“The southern road requires repairs.
Three bridges are unsafe.
Two irrigation channels need rebuilding.
Port Caldris needs new cranes.
Several provincial warehouses require structural repairs.”
He looked around the table.
“We don’t have enough people.”
Lord Cedric Marrow spoke.
“How much will the new corps cost?”
“Initially?”
Adrian gave him a number.
Cedric’s face tightened.
“That’s expensive.”
“I know.”
“We don’t have much room in the treasury.”
“I know that too.”
Duke Voss leaned forward.
“Then perhaps this is not the time.”
Adrian looked at him.
“When will it be?”
Voss didn’t answer.
Adrian continued.
“When the roads collapse?”
Silence.
“When the bridges fail?”
Nothing.
“When another bad harvest arrives and we discover our irrigation system can’t handle it?”
The duke’s expression hardened.
Adrian leaned back.
“Waiting is also a decision.”
That ended the argument.
Not because everyone agreed.
Because nobody had a better answer.
The engineering corps was approved.
Barely.
Adrian gave it a small budget.
Much smaller than he wanted.
But it was enough to begin.
The headquarters would be a converted royal warehouse near the western edge of Valoria.
It wasn’t impressive.
The roof leaked.
The windows were cracked.
Half the building had been unused for years.
Adrian walked through it with Osric.
“This is terrible.”
Osric smiled.
“It was cheap.”
“That’s one way to describe it.”
“We can repair it.”
Adrian looked around.
“Then repair it.”
Osric laughed.
“You’re going to make me work.”
“I thought you were the Minister of Public Works.”
“I was hoping to remain a theoretical minister.”
Adrian laughed.
“Not anymore.”
The first meeting of the engineering corps was surprisingly chaotic.
Twenty-three people stood around a large wooden table.
Daniel was there.
So was an elderly bridge builder named Master Garrick.
A young surveyor named Mira.
Several blacksmiths.
Two architects.
A mathematician.
Three people with experience in water systems.
And a mage who specialized in earth magic.
Adrian stood at the head of the table.
“I don’t expect miracles.”
Several people looked relieved.
“I expect measurements.”
That changed the mood.
Adrian placed a list in front of them.
“These are the first problems.”
Roads.
Bridges.
Irrigation.
Warehouses.
Ports.
Drainage.
“Which comes first?”
The room became quiet.
Then Master Garrick spoke.
“Bridges.”
The surveyor disagreed.
“Roads.”
The earth mage shook his head.
“Drainage.”
A blacksmith suggested tools.
Daniel suggested water systems.
Within minutes, everyone was arguing.
Adrian smiled.
Good.
They were thinking.
He raised a hand.
“Stop.”
The room quieted.
“We’re not choosing based on opinions.”
He pointed toward the list.
“Estimate cost.”
He pointed again.
“Estimate economic benefit.”
Then:
“Estimate time.” Get faster updates on g.com.
“And estimate how many people depend on the project.”
The engineers looked at one another.
Mira smiled.
“You want a priority system.”
“Exactly.”
Master Garrick nodded.
“That’s sensible.”
Adrian sat down.
“Then build one.”
The meeting lasted four hours.
By the end of it, the corps had created its first priority list.
The collapsed southern bridge came first.
Not because it was the largest.
Because it connected several farming villages to a major trade road.
Repairing it would immediately reduce transport problems.
Second came drainage work around several flood-prone farming areas.
Third came improvements to irrigation.
Fourth came repairs to major roads.
The port was important.
But its largest improvements would require more money.
Adrian approved the list.
Then he added one condition.
“Every project gets a report.”
Mira asked, “What kind?”
“Materials used.
Workers employed.
Money spent.
Time taken.
Problems encountered.”
She nodded.
“And results?”
Adrian smiled.
“Especially results.”
Meanwhile, the grain investigation had reached a more uncomfortable stage.
Clara returned to Adrian’s office late one evening.
She looked exhausted.
Adrian immediately frowned.
“You were told to sleep.”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
Clara ignored him.
“I found the missing link.”
Adrian sat forward.
“What link?”
She placed a document on the table.
“The grain isn’t being stolen from the kingdom.”
Adrian frowned.
“We already knew that.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“We thought it was being bought from provincial stores.”
“It is.”
“Legally.”
Adrian stared at her.
“Then what?”
Clara pointed toward the records.
“The problem is who is deciding the price.”
Adrian read the document.
Several provincial officials were selling grain to merchants at unusually low prices.
Those merchants then sold it at much higher prices at the southern ports.
The profit was enormous.
Adrian understood.
The grain wasn’t disappearing.
It was being diverted.
Not through theft.
Through manipulated contracts.
“How many provinces?”
“Three.”
“Officials?”
“Seven confirmed.”
“Merchants?”
“Four major companies.”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“And House Merrow?”
Clara paused.
“Connected.”
“Directly?”
“No.”
Adrian waited.
“Indirectly.”
She slid another paper across the desk.
“One of the companies buying the grain is partially owned by a relative of Count Merrow.”
Adrian read it.
“That’s not enough.”
“I know.”
“Keep going.”
Clara nodded.
“There is something else.”
She pulled out another document.
“These companies are also involved in shipping.”
Adrian stared at the page.
The same merchants buying cheap grain in the west were transporting it to the south.
And selling it at much higher prices.
Adrian leaned back.
“So they’re making money twice.”
“Yes.”
“Buying cheap.”
“Then selling high.”
“Who pays the difference?”
“The people.”
Adrian looked down.
Farmers received less.
Merchants made more.
Consumers paid more.
Provincial officials received payments.
The crown lost tax revenue.
It was an elegant system.
And completely rotten.
Adrian did not immediately order arrests.
Instead, he called Lord Cedric.
“Can we change how provincial grain contracts work?”
Cedric considered it.
“Yes.”
“How quickly?”
“Not quickly.”
“Why?”
“Because provincial governments have authority over local purchases.”
“Then we change the rules.”
Cedric looked concerned.
“The nobles will resist.”
“Some will.”
“What do you propose?”
Adrian thought.
“We create a minimum purchase price.”
Cedric frowned.
“That could increase costs.”
“It could.”
“Then the crown establishes regional grain exchanges.”
Cedric stared at him.
Adrian continued.
“Farmers can sell grain through a transparent market.
Provincial officials can still buy grain, but the prices are recorded publicly.”
Cedric slowly nodded.
“That would make manipulation harder.”
“Exactly.”
“And merchants?”
“Can buy grain.”
“At market price.”
“Yes.”
Cedric smiled.
“You’re creating a proper grain market.”
“I’m trying to create a market where everyone can see the price.”
Cedric nodded.
“That will upset people.”
“I know.”
The proposal was presented to the council three days later.
The reaction was immediate.
Duke Voss objected.
Several provincial nobles objected.
Two merchants who had been invited as advisers objected even more strongly.
They argued that government interference would damage trade.
Adrian listened.
Then he asked one question.
“If the current system is working, why are grain prices rising while farmers receive less?”
Nobody answered.
One merchant eventually said:
“Markets fluctuate.”
“Of course.”
Adrian nodded.
“But transparency doesn’t destroy markets.”
He placed the proposal on the table.
“Every major grain transaction will be recorded.”
A nobleman frowned.
“That is excessive.”
“Why?”
“It interferes with private business.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Then you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”
The nobleman’s face tightened.
“If your business is legitimate, transparency shouldn’t hurt it.”
Silence.
Adrian didn’t push further.
He knew better than to try to win every argument in one meeting.
Instead, he offered a compromise.
The system would begin in three provinces.
For one year.
Afterward, the crown would review the results.
The nobles reluctantly accepted.
It wasn’t victory.
But it was progress.
That evening, Adrian walked through the palace garden.
Elena joined him.
“You looked angry today.”
“I was.”
“Because of the merchants?”
“Partly.”
She was quiet for a moment.
“Are you going to punish them?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“After we know exactly what they did.”
Elena nodded.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s important.”
She looked at him.
“You really don’t want to become like the old kings.”
Adrian stopped walking.
“What do you mean?”
“Father told you to learn from the past.”
She smiled.
“You’re actually doing it.”
Adrian looked toward the palace.
His father had spent years keeping Arvendale stable.
Perhaps that had been his greatest contribution.
Adrian didn’t intend to throw away that stability.
He intended to build on it.
“I don’t want to destroy the kingdom just because I think I can improve it.”
Elena smiled.
“That’s probably a good thing.”
“Probably?”
“You still have terrible judgment sometimes.”
Adrian laughed.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Two months later, the first engineering project was completed.
The southern bridge stood again.
It wasn’t beautiful.
It wasn’t grand.
But it was stronger than before.
And it cost less than the original estimate.
The engineering corps had kept detailed records.
The project had employed local workers.
Local stone had been used.
Several young craftsmen had learned new construction techniques.
Most importantly, the road reopened.
The first caravan crossed the bridge that morning.
Adrian stood nearby.
A farmer drove his wagon across.
Then another.
Then a merchant caravan.
The wheels rolled over the repaired stones.
Adrian watched quietly.
It was just a bridge.
Nothing more.
But he smiled anyway.
Because this was what change looked like.
Not palaces.
Not speeches.
Not grand declarations.
A bridge that worked.
A field producing more grain.
A pump moving water.
A soldier receiving better supplies.
A merchant paying the correct tax.
A talented commoner getting a chance he would never have received before.
Small things.
Thousands of them.
Adrian knew there would be setbacks.
There would be political fights.
There would be corruption.
There would be mistakes.
Maybe even wars.
But for the first time since his reincarnation, he felt that Arvendale wasn’t simply reacting to its problems.
It was beginning to move forward.
And Adrian had only just begun.