New Surprises

The grand chamber was filled with the soft scratching of quill on parchment as Serena sat at her massive desk, absentmindedly signing off on yet another flow of requests. The stacks of documents on the desk were neatly organized, with Great Sage occasionally chiming in to highlight key points or summarize lengthy reports. The faint golden light of the room's enchanted sconces bathed everything in a warm glow, making the space feel almost serene.

The quiet creak of the chamber doors caught Serena's attention, and she glanced up briefly to see Lian entering. The soldier walked with more ease than she had in earlier months, her shoulders less stiff, her expression less guarded. It was a subtle change, but Serena noticed it immediately. A small smile tugged at her lips as she returned to her work, the faintest flicker of amusement at how comfortable Lian had become around her.

When Lian saw the unexpected smile, she froze mid-step, her confidence momentarily faltering. "Uh… My Lady, I—good evening," she stammered, fumbling slightly as she approached the desk. Her hands wrung together as if trying to steady her nerves.

"Good evening, Lian," Serena replied, setting her quill aside and folding her hands on the desk. Her voice was calm but tinged with curiosity. "You seem a bit... flustered. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Lian cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "I… well, it's about the troops, my Lady. Specifically, their pay. I wanted to ask if you might consider... increasing it. Especially for the married soldiers."

Serena arched a brow, her expression shifting to one of mild surprise. "A raise? Interesting. What are the current rates?"

Lian hesitated, clearly reluctant to answer. "For single soldiers like me, it's… manageable. We have the barracks and the chow halls, so there's not much we need to spend coin on. But for the married ones..." She trailed off, wincing slightly before continuing. "They earn about… two silver and five copper a week."

Serena's brow furrowed deeply, her crimson eyes narrowing in disgust. "Two silver and five copper? That's borderline insulting. How are they expected to support a family on that?"

Lian shifted awkwardly, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "It's… it's always been that way, my Lady. Most of them do side work when they can—helping with repairs, tending fields when they're off-duty—but even then, it's not enough. They stretch every coin just to get by."

Serena leaned back in her chair, her expression darkening as she processed the information. "And this has been the standard for how long?"

"Years," Lian admitted, lowering her gaze. "Before you took over, my Lady, the old lord saw no reason to raise pay. Soldiers were treated as expendable. And… I suppose no one ever thought to bring it up to you."

Serena's fingers drummed against the desk as she scrutinized Lian. "Why not? Surely someone thought this was worth addressing. Why did no one bring this to my attention sooner?"

Lian's face flushed slightly, and she stammered under Serena's sharp gaze. "W-we didn't want to seem ungrateful, my Lady. You've already done so much for us. New armor, better rations, proper barracks—we didn't want you to think we were taking advantage of your kindness."

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint rustle of parchment. Serena's expression softened, though her voice remained firm. "Kindness has nothing to do with it, Lian. Taking care of my soldiers isn't charity—it's my responsibility. And that includes ensuring they're paid enough to live, especially if they have families."

Lian looked up, her surprise evident. "You mean… you'll raise their pay?"

Serena nodded, already reaching for a fresh sheet of parchment. "I'll draft the order tonight. Soldiers with families will receive double their current rate—at minimum. As for single soldiers like you, your pay will also increase, though not as drastically. No one under my command should feel like their loyalty and hard work aren't valued."

Lian's lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to protest, but instead, she simply bowed deeply. "Thank you, my Lady. This will mean so much to them. To all of us."

Serena gave her a faint smile, one tinged with amusement. "Just do me one favor, Lian. Next time something like this comes up, don't wait so long to tell me. I don't tolerate inefficiency, but I tolerate unnecessary suffering even less. Understood?"

Lian straightened, her face resolute. "Understood, my Lady. I'll remember that."

With a nod of dismissal, Serena returned to her work, her quill scratching against the parchment as she began drafting the pay adjustment order. Lian turned to leave, her steps lighter than when she had entered. For the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of pride—not just in her role, but in the ruler she served.

The grand chamber was dimly lit, the warm glow of the enchanted sconces casting a golden hue over the stacks of parchment scattered across Serena's desk. She leaned over a particularly thick report, her crimson eyes scanning the details with sharp focus as her quill danced across the page. The quiet was broken only by the soft rustle of paper and the occasional creak of her chair.

The sound of footsteps approaching the desk drew her attention. Lucien appeared at her side, a tray balanced in one hand. Without a word, he set it down beside her, the faint clink of porcelain breaking the stillness. A steaming cup of tea rested on the tray, accompanied by a small dish of honey and a single sprig of mint.

Serena arched a brow, leaning back slightly as she regarded him with a mixture of suspicion and amusement. "Tea? How thoughtful, Lucien. Should I be worried?"

He smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the edge of the desk. "I figured even a monster gets thirsty now and then."

Her lips curved into a wry smile as she picked up the cup, her crimson eyes flicking to him over the rim. "Hidden poison works best on monsters, you know. Should I take a sip, or should I wait to see if you start twitching first?"

He chuckled softly, his expression unbothered. "Go ahead. If I wanted you dead, I'd be a little more creative than tea."

She took a slow sip, the warmth spreading through her as the delicate blend of mint and honey hit her tongue. Setting the cup down, she tilted her head, her smirk deepening. "Not bad. I'll admit, I'm a little impressed. You've got the servant act down pat. Shall I start calling you my personal butler?"

Lucien's smirk widened, his tone laced with mock gravity. "If that's what it takes to keep you from burning this castle down, then yes. Though I'd expect a raise."

"Careful, Lucien, or I might actually consider it," she quipped, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. "It's hard to find someone with your particular mix of sarcasm and grudging loyalty."

"Grudging? Oh no, my loyalty is entirely conditional," he shot back, his tone dry. "But I'll give credit where it's due."

She raised a brow, her curiosity piqued. "Credit? From you? This should be good. What's the occasion?"

Instead of answering, Lucien stepped closer, surprising her with a sudden softness in his expression. Before she could say another word, he leaned down and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to her cheek. The gesture was light but deliberate, his warmth lingering against her skin for a fleeting moment.

"Good job," he said quietly, his voice unusually sincere. "You're a fine queen."

She blinked, momentarily stunned, her usual sharp retort failing to materialize as he pulled back.

Before she could recover, he was already walking toward the door, his steps measured and casual. "Try not to overthink it," he called over his shoulder, the smirk in his tone unmistakable. "And don't worry—I'm sure the poison won't kick in for at least another hour."

The door shut behind him, leaving Serena alone in the quiet chamber. She sat motionless for a moment, her cheek still tingling where his lips had touched. A faint, incredulous smile tugged at her lips as she shook her head, reaching for her tea.

"That insufferable bastard," she muttered to herself, though her voice held no malice. With a small, amused huff, she returned to her work, the faintest flicker of warmth lingering in her chest.

The grand chamber was silent save for the occasional rustle of parchment and the frustrated sighs of Serena. A small pile of crumpled papers sat near the edge of her desk, a testament to her growing irritation. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as she stared at the blank sheet in front of her. The quill in her hand hovered uncertainly before she let out another groan and tossed it aside.

"Damn it," she muttered, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk. "How do I justify this? Every angle feels weak."

Her crimson eyes darted to the crumpled papers, then back to the blank page, as though hoping inspiration might strike. She picked up her quill again, scribbled a few words, then cursed softly under her breath and crumpled the sheet into a tight ball before tossing it into the pile.

"Two adventurers' guilds," she murmured to herself, almost as if testing the words. "One in the central district, one near the outer wards. More jobs for people, more protection for the city... but the expense… how do I spin this without sounding reckless?"

The faint shimmer of Great Sage appeared at the edge of her vision, its calm, soothing voice breaking the silence. "Analysis complete, my Lady. Would you like to hear the potential economic and protective benefits of establishing two adventurers' guilds?"

Serena blinked, straightening in her chair as a small flicker of relief crossed her face. "You've been listening this whole time, haven't you? And you waited until now to chime in?"

"You seemed determined to work through the problem unaided. I did not wish to interrupt."

"Well, interrupt next time. Save me the headache," she snapped, though there was no real venom in her tone. "Alright, Sage. Lay it on me. What's the justification I've been clawing for?"

The orb pulsed faintly, projecting a translucent list into her field of view. "Opening two adventurers' guilds will have the following economic and protective benefits:

1. Job Creation: The guilds will employ not only adventurers but also guild staff—clerks, trainers, blacksmiths, and innkeepers. This diversifies job opportunities and boosts economic activity.

2. Increased Trade: Adventurers tend to attract merchants selling specialized goods—potions, weapons, and supplies—stimulating trade in the surrounding areas.

3. Infrastructure Development: Establishing guilds encourages the growth of nearby businesses, such as inns and taverns, creating secondary economic benefits.

4. Enhanced Protection: Adventurers can be mobilized quickly in case of external threats, such as bandits or monster incursions. This complements the city guard's efforts without stretching their resources.

5. Recruitment and Training Hub: The guilds will serve as centralized locations to recruit and train capable individuals, strengthening the city's overall defensive capability."

Serena leaned back, her brows furrowed in thought. "That… actually makes sense. If I phrase it as both an economic investment and a strategic enhancement, it'll be hard for anyone to argue against it."

"Precisely, my Lady," Great Sage replied. "Would you like assistance drafting the proposal?"

She smirked, reaching for a fresh sheet of parchment. "No need. I've got it from here. Just keep feeding me numbers while I write. We'll shut down any objections before they start."

As she dipped her quill into the inkwell and began to draft the proposal, her tone shifted, becoming lighter. "You know, Sage, for something that isn't supposed to have emotions, you're oddly satisfying to work with. If you were a person, I'd almost be tempted to thank you."

The orb pulsed faintly, its tone even but tinged with something almost akin to amusement. "Acknowledged, my Lady. Your satisfaction is sufficient gratitude."

Serena chuckled softly, her frustration melting away as the words began to flow. For the first time all evening, the idea felt not just possible but genuinely exciting. Two adventurers' guilds—one in the heart of Celestafell, the other near its outer edges. Jobs. Protection. Growth. It was more than just a proposal now; it was a vision for the future of her city.

The grand chamber doors swung open with a soft creak as Serena stepped out, her expression unusually bright, the neatly rolled parchment clutched in her gloved hand. The proposal for two Adventurers' Guilds, freshly written and finalized, was a plan she felt truly proud of. The thought of seeing it implemented filled her with rare excitement. Her cloak swayed behind her as she made her way down the castle's corridors, her boots clicking against the polished stone floor.

Her destination was clear: the Construction House, where the city's builders and planners coordinated the myriad projects that kept Celestafell thriving. She had a mind to not only set the Adventurers' Guilds in motion but also, if the Construction House's owner agreed, to propose the creation of a Laborers' Guild—a centralized organization where those skilled in manual work could find steady employment and fair wages.

The thought of creating opportunities for both adventurers and laborers alike brought a faint, satisfied smile to her lips as she navigated the castle halls. But as she descended the central staircase, something unexpected caught her eye.

In the bustling kitchen just off the main corridor, Lucien stood among the staff, sleeves rolled up, helping a cook carry a heavy tray of steaming loaves to a side table. His expression was neutral, his movements efficient, as though he'd been doing this sort of work for years. One of the younger kitchen hands laughed at something he said, and he smirked faintly in response.

Serena paused mid-step, watching him for a moment. The sight of Lucien Vaeral, the once-proud heir to the old lord, quietly helping in the castle kitchens, struck her as both amusing and oddly endearing. An idea sparked in her mind, mischievous and impulsive.

She turned and made her way into the kitchen, weaving effortlessly between the bustling staff. As she approached Lucien, she tapped him lightly on the shoulder, her crimson eyes gleaming with mischief.

Lucien turned, his brows furrowing slightly as he met her gaze. "What are you—"

Before he could finish, Serena leaned in and pressed a quick, unexpected kiss to his lips. It was brief, a feather-light touch, but it lingered just enough to leave him momentarily stunned. When she pulled back, her smirk was nothing short of triumphant.

"Don't ever embarrass me again, Lucien," she teased, her tone playful. Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned on her heel and strode out of the kitchen, disappearing through the door with her cloak trailing behind her.

Lucien stood frozen for a moment, his mouth slightly open as he processed what had just happened. One of the cooks, a middle-aged man with a bushy mustache, whistled low under his breath. "Didn't know you were on such... intimate terms with the Queen, lad," he said with a grin, elbowing Lucien in the ribs.

Lucien blinked, his face flushing slightly as he scowled at the cook. "Shut up, Eren." He shook his head, muttering to himself as he picked up another tray, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips despite his best efforts.

Serena strode confidently through the castle gates, stepping out into the bustling city streets. The parchment was still clutched in her hand, her excitement renewed by her impromptu detour. The fresh air was cool against her skin, carrying with it the sounds of the city: the chatter of merchants, the clang of hammers from the smithy, and the distant hum of construction near the outer wards.

As she passed through the market district, several vendors called out to her, offering everything from fruit to finely woven fabrics. She waved them off with a polite smile, her mind too focused on her task to linger.

The Construction House loomed ahead, a sturdy stone building with wide double doors that stood open to accommodate the constant flow of workers, architects, and planners. Inside, the air buzzed with energy. Tables were covered in blueprints, stacks of lumber and stone samples lined the walls, and laborers moved between rooms discussing schedules and materials.

The owner, a tall, wiry man named Doran, spotted her immediately and approached with a respectful bow. His weathered hands were covered in charcoal smudges, and a measuring tape hung from his belt. "My Lady, this is an unexpected pleasure. What can we do for you today?"

Serena handed him the parchment, her tone brisk but warm. "I have a new project for you, Doran. Two Adventurers' Guilds—one in the central district, the other near the outer wards. The proposal outlines the locations, specifications, and the resources you'll need."

Doran unrolled the parchment, his sharp eyes scanning the details. "Two guilds, eh? That's ambitious, but I like it. Adventurers bring a lot of energy—and coin—into a city. I'll get my best people on it."

Serena nodded, then added, "And one more thing. If you're up for it, I'd like to see a Laborers' Guild established as well. A centralized hub for skilled workers—carpenters, masons, smiths. Somewhere they can organize, find steady work, and receive fair pay."

Doran's brows lifted, and a grin spread across his face. "You've got a sharp mind, my Lady. A Laborers' Guild would do wonders for the city's workforce. Consider it done."

"Good. Send me updates as the work progresses," Serena said, her voice firm but pleased. She turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back at him. "Oh, and Doran? Don't cut corners. These guilds will be a cornerstone of Celestafell's future. Make them worthy of the city."

He bowed again, his grin widening. "You've got my word, my Lady. They'll be nothing short of perfect."

Serena left the Construction House with a satisfied smirk, the promise of progress fueling her steps as she made her way back toward the castle. 

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over Celestafell as Serena stood at the edge of the central district, her crimson eyes sweeping over the freshly completed Adventurers' Guild. The building stood tall and proud, its sturdy stone walls adorned with intricate carvings depicting swords, shields, and mythical beasts. The guild's emblem—a stylized compass overlaid with a pair of crossed blades—gleamed on a wrought iron sign above the entrance.

Adventurers already bustled in and out of the wide double doors, their laughter and chatter spilling onto the street. Inside, she could see rows of noticeboards lined with requests, from mundane delivery jobs to dangerous monster hunts. Clerks sat at counters, organizing contracts with efficient precision, while a training area in the back hummed with the clash of practice weapons.

Serena nodded to herself, satisfied. "Exactly as I envisioned."

She turned and made her way toward the outer ward, where the second Adventurers' Guild stood near the newly fortified walls. This one was more modest, built for functionality over grandeur. Its wooden beams and slate roof blended seamlessly with the surrounding structures, but the interior was no less vibrant. Local tradespeople had already set up shop around the guild, selling potions, weapons, and supplies, creating a small economic hub that radiated with life.

Serena paused at the gates of the guild, watching a group of young adventurers gathering supplies for their first job. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and she couldn't help but allow a rare, soft smile to touch her lips.

Her final stop was the Laborers' Guild, located near the marketplace. It was a sprawling structure with wide open doors that invited workers of all kinds. Inside, rows of desks were staffed by coordinators who paired skilled laborers with projects in need of their expertise. Boards on the walls displayed lists of available jobs, their details meticulously organized.

Carpenters, masons, smiths, and other artisans moved through the space, their faces alight with purpose. She noticed a corner dedicated to apprenticeships, where young workers eagerly learned trades under the guidance of experienced mentors.

Serena walked through the guild, inspecting the craftsmanship of the furniture, the polished floors, and the efficiency of the staff. Everything was as it should be—functional, welcoming, and bustling with activity.

Standing outside the guild, Serena allowed herself a moment of pride as she looked back at the city. The three guilds stood as symbols of Celestafell's rebirth, each one a testament to her vision and determination. "The foundation is set," she murmured, her voice resolute. "Now we build higher."

With that, she turned and made her way back to the castle, the satisfied hum of progress accompanying her every step.