Chapter 61 --61
"Days. Weeks. Depends on what keeps breaking," Dimitri said grimly.
Elara ate her portion of bread and meat and observed her household. Exhausted. Frustrated. Overwhelmed by the scope of work required.
But no one had quit. No one had demanded to go back to the palace. They were complaining, but they were staying.
"Listen," she said, and the conversations died down. "Tonight is going to be uncomfortable. We’re sleeping on floors. The plumbing barely works. The kitchen is non-functional. But tomorrow we start fixing things systematically. I’ll clean more rooms with magic. You’ll repair what can be repaired and list what needs replacement. We’ll establish routines for cooking, cleaning, security. It will get better. But tonight is just survival."
"How inspiring," the hawk knight muttered, but he was smiling slightly.
"I’m not here to inspire. I’m here to manage expectations." Elara stood. "Get whatever sleep you can. Tomorrow we work."
As people dispersed to their assigned rooms—most clutching bedrolls to sleep on bare floors—Elara went to her own room.
It was clean, at least. She’d done that much with magic. But it was empty except for one trunk of belongings and a bedroll on the wooden floor.
She lay down in the darkness and listened to the sounds of her household settling in. Muffled conversations through thin walls. Someone crying quietly—probably from exhaustion. The beast knights moving around as they organized their cramped shared space.
This was independence. This was what leaving the palace looked like.
A decrepit mansion with rats and leaks and broken plumbing. Thirty-two people sleeping on floors. No money for beds. No functioning kitchen.
No assassins in the hallways. No poisoned tea. No sisters plotting murder.