Baron Andrew
Baron Andrew didn't get out much, but when he got a letter from Rebecca requesting his presence at her manor in Lichfield, he knew it was going to be good. Choosing his horse, he decided to travel with his two best men, even though it was a mere 2 days by horse.
The roads were remarkably safe once he entered County Lichfield, something he noticed immediately. Swarms of guard patrols, and all sorts of roadworks well under way. As he waited at a bridge, he struck up conversation with one of the County Lichfield soldiers.
"Been noticing lots of construction on my way to Lichfield." Andrew said, gesturing at the masons working on the bridge.
The soldier nodded. "Aye, the Duchess is an uproar over the state of the lands. She's paying double time for work to continue around the clock on the roads alone. You should see what's going on down in Port Nautitus."
Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
The soldier leaned in and whispered. "Nobody knows for certain, but I think we're about to move on the gangs. Artillery and entire platoons have been massing for weeks."
Andrew thought on this as he rode away. Just what was Rebecca planning? He knew she had spoken of an Empire when she came to him a year or so ago, but he had chalked that up to boasting, even if it was from the Rebecca Ashe. This, though? This actually was Empire building.
By the time he arrived in Lichfield, he was nearly speechless. Entire districts were under active construction, and the churches were finally getting repairs that were a decade or more overdue. Just how was she funding all of this? Though, it didn't really matter did it? By the time he got to her Manor, he was starting to get on board with it all.
Marvin was waiting for Andrew as he dismounted from his horse at the front gates of the Manor.
"Good Afternoon Baron, how was the trip?" Marvin asked, casually leaning against the stone wall of the stables.
"Oh? Not going to confiscate my weapons?" Andrew asked with a wry smile.
"Why would I? You'd be dead before you hit the floor if you were a threat." Marvin stated quite plainly. "Duchess Ashe is waiting in her study."
Andrew and his men walked through the Manor. He stopped for a moment at the portrait of her father in a hallway. Myles Ashe certainly wasn't the worst Duke that Lichfield ever had, but the rumours of his incompetence still persist nearly 150 years later.
The next portrait in the hall was Rebecca's brother, Reginald Ashe. By all accounts Rebecca should have never been the Duchess.
"Four children. Four tiny coffins." Andrew whispered, shaking his head.
"Sir?" One of his men asked.
"Political assassinations. The greed of man is why the punishment of the South waits in her study for us."
"I'll make sure to tell her you think so highly of her." Marvin said as he leaned on a pillar behind Andrew, causing Andrew to practically jump out of his skin.
"How did you get there?" Andrew asked, holding his chest for a moment.
"Trade secret." Marvin said with a wink. "Enchanted armour. Cost us a fortune." Marvin started walking, only to make no noise as he did so.
"How many heart attacks so far?" Andrew asked as he wiped his forehead and continued walking.
"Only one. Scares the daylights out of nosy nobles thinking the Manor isn't guarded. They round a corner and there I am, leaning against the wall, casual as can be. They turn around and there I am again, still leaning against the wall."
Andrew and Marvin talked a bit more until the door to Rebecca's study loomed before them.
"Enjoy yourself, Baron."
Andrew nodded, and knocked once before opening the door. It was an impressive collection of books on the shelves, even by the standards of the nobility. Glancing at the titles, he saw a book that he was certain could buy an entire Kingdom, but he froze when he saw what she currently had on the desk before her. It was in Old Rozen, of that he was certain, but he knew enough to know what that title said.
"Where did you find that?" He asked carefully.
"In the Umbra Curia, if you'd believe it." Rebecca said with a tiny smile, her hands folded neatly on her lap. "The original unsigned dissolution papers for the Rozen Republica."
"Unsigned?" Andrew's eyes practically bulged out of his head.
"Consul Marcellus Ashe left us quite the landmine. Before I share what I plan to do with it, I want your personal recommendation." Rebecca for the briefest moment narrowed her eyes. "Do sit down, the chair isn't going to bite you."
"I-" Andrew paused. Ashe? Could it be? "Marcellus Ashe, you said?"
"I did."
"Does your family ever not cause problems?"
"Oh, is that what you call it? Problems?" Rebecca's mouth widened into a genuine smile. "Forgive me for having the inborn need to rule. Now, I believe you were answering my question."
Andrew spent a moment to gather his thoughts. There were obvious answers to the question she posed, but he dismissed most of them immediately as being obviously wrong.
"You'd never declare the Republic still existed. That'd open a box we'd never be able to close again. Two thousand year old grievances ripped right back into open." Andrew said after a minute, a twinkle in his eye. "You'd also never pass up the chance to show off lineage like this, so you wouldn't bury it either."
"So tell me Andy. What do I do with it?" Rebecca was pleased with Andrew's responses so far, and wanted to see what his conclusion is.
"You're going to fake a signature. Show off an original document-"
"Very close, but very wrong." Rebecca interrupted Andrew and didn't let him finish, a tiny sneer showing on her lips. "It needs to hold up to scrutiny. What would happen the moment a creation mage is asked to verify the document?"
"Ah."
"Encased in glass. Passed off as a period copy. Marcellus scribbled on the back of the last page and gave away the game, so it's my only option."
"He wrote on it?"
"Oh yes. And I quote, this is probably better left unsigned. It might come in handy later. Signed Consul Marcellus Ashe."
Andrew groaned, causing Rebecca to nod in approval. "So why did you invite me here? Surely not to just give me an ulcer in person."
"Quite right." Rebecca cleared away the ancient papers delicately, placing them into a wooden box. "Duke Alaric Westham is on-board. The Whitemire Court has all but collapsed. You know what this means."
"Your little project is finally getting started?" Andrew asked with a smile.
"Indeed. Which means I need open support from you now. It does mean an end to most of your overt criminal activity, but Andrew I'm sure you understand how this works."
"If you don't hear about it, it didn't happen. I know the game, Rebecca." Andrew nodded. "I'm assuming Court is going to start happening here at your Manor?"
"Naturally. Since I tore Whitemire's Castle to pieces, nobody else but me has facilities large enough. I've already sent letters inviting the... usual suspects."
"Who do you expect to be trouble?"
"Westham will be simple. He shows up because he must, not because he wants to. If half the nobles were half as competent as Alaric, I wouldn't need to make this Empire to begin with." Rebecca adjusted her hair. "The self-proclaimed Kings are the ones who will balk, at first at least."
"That's the reason for Port Nautitus?" Andrew asked, remembering what that bridge guard told him.
"Who told you?" Rebecca's voice was firm and it was clearly an order.
Andrew didn't buckle. "Can't reveal my sources Rebecca, you know that. But it was vague, just rumour of men and artillery massing."
Rebecca's expression softened immediately. "Ah. So you don't know the plan."