The silence in the council chamber lasted longer than Adrian expected.
He sat on the throne, looking at the people gathered before him.
Most were strangers.
Some he recognized from the books he’d been reading.
Others he knew only because of the memories left behind by the original Adrian.
At the front stood the royal chancellor, Lord Edmund Vale.
To his right was Lord Cedric Marrow, the Minister of Finance.
Beside him sat the Minister of War, General Gareth Rowan.
There were ministers responsible for agriculture, trade, justice, foreign affairs, and several other departments.
Then came the nobles.
Dukes.
Counts.
Barons.
Representatives of the great families.
Adrian studied them quietly.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, the Chancellor stepped forward.
“Your Majesty, according to the laws of succession, the crown has passed to you following the death of King Richard.”
Adrian nodded.
“I understand.”
“The council awaits your first orders.”
Adrian almost laughed.
My first orders.
He’d been king for less than an hour.
They were already waiting for him to show what kind of ruler he would be.
He looked around the room.
“Before we discuss anything else, I want reports.”
Several ministers exchanged glances.
“Reports?” the Minister of Agriculture asked.
“Yes.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“I want the current state of the kingdom’s finances, military, food supply, roads, trade, mines, and provincial administration.”
Lord Cedric raised an eyebrow.
“Your Majesty, the annual reports were submitted to your father.”
“I know.”
“Then I assume you have access to them.”
“I do.”
Adrian paused.
“But I want updated numbers.”
Cedric’s expression became slightly more serious.
“How soon?”
“One week.”
A few nobles shifted in their seats.
The Minister of Finance bowed.
“As you command.”
Adrian looked toward the Minister of War.
“And the military?”
General Rowan was an older man with broad shoulders and a scar running across his left cheek.
He stood.
“Thirty-eight thousand active soldiers.”
Adrian nodded.
“How many are actually combat-ready?”
The general paused.
“Most.”
“That’s not a number.”
Several nobles looked at Adrian.
The general’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Approximately thirty thousand.”
“Approximately?”
“Some units are stationed far from the capital.
Some are undergoing training.
Others are responsible for border patrol.”
Adrian nodded.
“Give me a complete report.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Adrian continued.
“How many soldiers are stationed on the eastern frontier?”
“Eight thousand.”
“How often do they receive supplies?”
“Every three months.”
Adrian frowned.
“Three months?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The general looked confused.
“Because that’s the standard schedule.”
Adrian leaned back.
He made a mental note.
The eastern frontier was far from the capital.
If something went wrong, three months between supply deliveries could become a serious problem.
But he didn’t know the terrain.
He didn’t know the roads.
He didn’t know how much food soldiers required.
He didn’t know how many wagons were available.
So he didn’t criticize it.
Not yet.
“Include supply routes and transport capacity in the report.”
The general nodded.
“Understood.”
Adrian turned to the Minister of Agriculture.
“Food production.”
The minister stood nervously.
“Your Majesty?”
“How much grain did the kingdom produce last year?”
The man hesitated.
“Approximately…”
Adrian waited.
The minister swallowed.
“I’ll have the figures prepared.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t know?”
“I oversee the ministry.
The actual records are maintained by regional offices.”
Adrian stared at him.
The man lowered his head.
“I understand.”
Adrian didn’t scold him.
Instead, he said, “Bring me the numbers.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
One by one, Adrian asked questions.
How many ports did the kingdom have?
How much iron was mined each year?
How much coal?
How many mana crystals?
How many roads were paved?
How many schools existed?
How many mages served the crown?
How much tax revenue came from each province?
The answers were inconsistent.
Some ministers knew their departments well.
Others relied heavily on written reports.
A few couldn’t answer simple questions without asking their assistants.
Adrian listened.
He didn’t interrupt.
He didn’t insult anyone.
He simply took notes.
By the time the meeting ended, the nobles looked confused.
They had expected the useless prince to make some foolish announcement.
Instead, the new king had spent hours asking questions.
Nothing more.
The Chancellor approached him after the others left.
“You surprised them.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Who?”
“The council.”
“Why?”
“Because you didn’t behave like the prince they remember.”
Adrian gave a small smile.
“People change.”
The Chancellor studied him.
“Indeed.”
Then he bowed and left.
Adrian remained in the chamber.
He looked at the piles of papers sitting on the table.
“This is going to be a nightmare.”
A voice came from behind him.
“Probably.”
Adrian turned.
Elena stood in the doorway.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on the king.”
“You shouldn’t complain about your job in front of the princess.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“You called the kingdom’s paperwork a nightmare.”
“It is.”
She walked over and sat in one of the chairs.
“You looked like you were interrogating everyone.”
“I was asking questions.”
“You asked General Rowan how many horses the army owns.”
“That’s an important question.”
“Why?”
“Because armies need horses.”
Elena stared at him.
Then she laughed.
Adrian smiled.
“What’s funny?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“You actually care.”
Adrian’s smile faded slightly.
He looked at the empty council chamber.
“I have to.”
Elena became quiet.
For a moment, she looked at him like she was trying to understand who her brother had become.
“Adrian.”
“Yes?”
“Are you scared?”
The question caught him off guard.
He thought about it.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
Elena smiled faintly.
“Good.”
Adrian frowned.
“Why is that good?”
“Because it means you understand that this matters.”
She stood.
“Father used to say that the most dangerous people were those who weren’t afraid of the crown.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
She walked toward the door.
“Goodnight, Your Majesty.”
“Goodnight, Princess.”
She stopped.
Then looked over her shoulder.
“You know you can still call me Elena.”
Adrian smiled.
“I know.”
She left.
Adrian sat alone.
The room felt much larger now.
He looked at the throne.
He still didn’t feel like a king.
Not yet.
Maybe he never would.
But that didn’t matter.
He had a kingdom to understand.
The following morning, Adrian began working.
The first thing he did was establish a simple rule.
Every ministry would submit monthly reports.
Not summaries.
Actual numbers.
Revenue.
Expenses.
Production.
Manpower.
Supplies.
Problems.
He wanted facts.
Not flattering reports written to make ministers look good.
The second thing he did was request maps.
Lots of them.
Political maps.
Military maps.
Trade maps.
Resource maps.
River systems.
Road networks.
He spread them across the table in his study.
Arvendale was enormous.
Adrian traced the major rivers with his finger.
The western plains were connected to the capital by two major roads.
The eastern frontier had only one reliable road.
The southern coast had several ports, but most were poorly connected to the interior.
The Iron Mountains were rich in resources but difficult to reach.
Adrian stared at the map for a long time.
He already saw possibilities.
But he forced himself to stop.
Don’t jump ahead.
He didn’t know the cost of building roads here.
He didn’t know the available workforce.
He didn’t know how magic affected construction.
He didn’t know what the nobles controlling the regions would do.
Ideas were easy.
Implementation was difficult.
That lesson had been drilled into him during his engineering career.
A design wasn’t a finished product.
It was only the beginning.
Three days later, the first reports arrived.
Adrian sat at his desk.
The financial report was on his left.
The military report was on his right.
Agriculture was in front of him.
He started with the treasury.
Then he stopped.
He read the number again.
“That’s impossible.”
The royal treasury had less gold than Adrian expected.
Much less.
The kingdom wasn’t bankrupt.
But it was dangerously close to having serious cash-flow problems.
Adrian continued reading.
Debt payments.
Military expenses.
Palace expenses.
Noble pensions.
Infrastructure.
Trade revenue.
Taxes.
Then he reached the final page.
He stared at it.
“Why are palace expenses this high?”
The royal secretary standing nearby lowered his head.
“Previous expenditures.”
Adrian looked at the list.
Luxury clothing.
Banquets.
Imported wine.
Decorations.
Private hunting expeditions.
And a large number of expenses belonging to the previous prince.
Adrian rubbed his forehead.
“How much of this was mine?”
The secretary hesitated.
“Approximately…”
He gave Adrian the number.
Adrian stared at him.
“I spent that much?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“That explains the reputation.”
The secretary said nothing.
Adrian closed the report.
The old Adrian had been a fool.
There was no point pretending otherwise.
But Adrian wasn’t going to keep paying for his predecessor’s mistakes.
He stood.
“Cancel every unnecessary royal expense.”
The secretary blinked.
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
“Your Majesty, some of these are traditional.”
“Then tradition can survive without them.”
The secretary bowed.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Adrian sat again.
His eyes returned to the reports.
This was only the beginning.
He had a kingdom full of problems.
But for the first time, he had something the previous Adrian never had.
A reason to care.
He picked up the agricultural report.
And began reading.