"Make Way! Make way for the Captain General! Make way for High Governor Hresvelg!"

Tens of thousands called Yunkai home, and if this city had been in Fodlan it would be among the largest on the continent. But Edelgard could not find it in herself to compare Yunkai to Fhirdiad or Enbarr or Derdriu. There were no wide plazas, no canals, no aqueducts... only narrow streets and dirty markets huddled in the shadows of great pyramids that towered over everything and hid away the sun. The setting sun turned the yellow city into a city of reds and oranges and blacks, defined as much by shadow as by the light.

"I am finding this city beautiful," Petra stated from where she rode beside Edelgard. "I was not realizing this until very recently."

Edelgard blinked, realizing with surprise that she agreed with Petra. The city stank, shit ran in the streets, and every open space was cramped and archaic… but still, life persisted here. So much life, and all of it wonderful. Old men selling silks, dyers bargaining for seashells, a wineseller calling aloud for men to sample his wares…. So much decay, and so much beauty, like flowers blooming in rotted wood.

"The city has grown on me," Edelgard admitted, "But every time I look, I see only more work, only more change that needs to be wrought. Who built that wall? What purpose does it serve? Why are its gates so narrow? I can't look anywhere in this city without seeing something broken and old-fashioned."

She could not wait for Hubert to return from his diplomatic mission with their nominal 'Queen.' With him gone she felt as though her left arm had been severed… But nobody else was suitable for the task. Ferdinand was too dangerous to leave so far from her reach, Caspar was too simple, Bernadetta was hopeless, Dorothea was… perfect for the task, but Edelgard did not trust her enough. Not yet.

"There are many things which could be better," Petra agreed, "But we must be ignoring them. We will be going home too soon."

Edelgard's lips parted slightly. Yes, they would be going home. She had to believe that. But where would that leave Yunkai? She supposed she would need to do as she planned in the empire. She needed to create a state with strong enough institutions that it could select a new ruler without bloodshed or birthright. Not for the first time, she felt the enormity of the task ahead of her. Even here in Yunkai, would such a thing be possible? And Yunkai was but one city. How could she think of doing such a thing in the great and storied Adrestian Empire?

"I worry," she said eventually. "The roots of oppression run deep in this land. Not just in the people's hearts, but in the architecture, the layout of the roads… There are plantations to the west of the city, great farms with rows of cells where men and women are kept like beasts. I have broken their chains, but they remain slaves in all but name. And what if I should truly free them? Could those plantations still function? Could I feed this city if they fail? Could I pay for the new army Ferdinand is training, or for the improvements to the city? It would be simpler to burn it all to the ground and start anew."

...But she could not find it in her heart to do that. The city was beautiful, despite it all. The former slaves milled about happily, some still wearing their old collars in a show of defiance. Some were brass, some were lined with gold. Some had beautiful etchings in their rim or even precious stones. Qaggaz had explained this to her, that slaves were only permitted to wear ornamentation if it was upon their collars, to symbolize that all their wealth belonged to their masters, and some of these slaves were wealthy indeed. The Ghiscari were a proud people, and it filled her with equal parts of rage and despair to see them so stubbornly clinging to the old ways. Things seemed so simple when she sat atop the great pyramid and contemplated what changes she should make, but down here, down amongst the people she was intending to help…

"You cannot seek to be changing everything," Petra said. "There was a governor from Adrestia who was sent to Brigid. He sought to civilize our people, bring in roads, laws, priests..."

"Davyd Gerth," Edelgard replied, a smile tugging at her lips. "Do you truly wish to compare me to that fool?"

"What I mean to say, Edelgard, is that you must be having humility. This city is enormous, and it is not Fodlan. They do not know the faith of Fodlan's goddess, they do not eat the same foods, or live under the same sun. You cannot have every answer for them."

"If not me, then who?"

"There are people of this city who are wanting change as much as you are, and they will be- they will have answers where you do not. If you rely upon them, it will be easier for you and better for all."

"Which people are those? The chief servants? Yezzan? Everyone capable is too invested in the old way to be trusted."

"Malazza? "

Edelgard laughed. "Whatever else she may be, she is not invested in the old way, that's true enough." The girl was an heiress of no great lineage, born of two wealthy merchants who both died prematurely and despite lacking any particular talent had come to think of herself as some kind of enlightened strategist. She had a sort of naive charisma about her, though, and Edelgard could respect her determination. Perhaps… perhaps Petra was right. Perhaps with guidance, Malazza could continue the work they had started.

A scream tore her from her thoughts. "Assassins!" her guard cried, and then she saw them. Forty men in tiger masks, armed with curved swords and bucklers. In the press of the crowd they had been almost invisible, and now they were cutting into her guard, but a few paces from where she sat. She swept a javelin out of the air with a contemptuous flick of her ax.

"I will remove them!" Petra yelled, ramming her blade through the eyeslit of one of the masks. She charged forward, cutting freely as the men's weapons danced harmlessly off her armor.

The flat of Edelgard's ax slammed into the side of another man's head, dropping him senseless to the ground. "Hold fast! Try to take them alive if you can!"

The masses panicked and ran, clearing away from the deadly melee. No doubt they were well-used to fights between the Wise Masters and knew better than to intervene. The masked men in the back used this new-found space to circle Edelgard's party in an attempt to cut them off, keep them surrounded.

Fools.

"Charge!" Edelgard called, and as one her mounted entourage surged forward, breaking through the thin line of masked men completely. You failed when you did not kill me in the first second, Edelgard thought with complete confidence. They did not have enough men to surround her guards, not enough to constrain mounted heavy cavalry. Her guard turned on the men again, horses rearing and kicking.

The whole fight was over in seconds, all the men running or dead or beaten down. "Pathetic," Edelgard said, "I would expect even the Masters to make a better attempt than this." She rolled one of the breathing men over with her boot. "Which house do you serve, wretch?"

The man opened his mouth and Edelgard looked away in disgust. The man's tongue had been removed, cut off, and then seared at the roots.

"Their brands have been removed by scarring them with acid," Petra stated, inspecting the shoulder of one of the dead men.

Edelgard clicked her tongue in annoyance. The Masters would have to do better than forty men, scarcely armed or armored, but she needed to know who was behind these attacks and know soon. Not for the first time she missed Hubert.

"There's nothing to be done at present," she managed eventually. "We need to push onto the garrison."

And without another word, they gathered the captives and moved on. When had death become so routine? But there was no use in dwelling one the past, and so she pushed on, on and through the city until she came to the garrison. The building itself was a long and low structure, a sort of fortified mansion that had previously belonged to House Ahlaq. They had used it to control trade coming into the city up the red road from Astapo, and now Ferdinand used it for the same purpose, with his garrison of Unsullied and informal militia.

They were training in the yard as Edelgard and her retinue entered the front gate, nearly a hundred men and women training with spears and shields. The militia wore armor of cloth dyed red and yellow, with plates sewn in as an extra layer of protection. Unsullied were among them, leading the drill and participating in it…. And in the midst of them rode Ferdinand, riding between their ranks on his proud Astral Charger, flowing red cape furling out behind him.

In truth, Edelgard had little attended to Ferdinand's efforts with the militia up until now, happy to assume he would be busy and useful while she played politics at the city level… But she had to give her rival some begrudging credit. The movements of the militia were basic, but still impressive for a host of former slaves who had never held a spear until a month ago. How many were there in the courtyard? Three hundred? Four? She dimly remembered Ferdinand outlining his whole scheme for the defense of the city to her. He had taken a hundred from each district and meant to use them to establish a core garrison for a series of fortified houses throughout the city. Places where freed slaves could train themselves at arms. To her shame, she could not remember most of the particulars, but she trusted his competence, if not his loyalty.

Ferdinand caught sight of them and blew a horn, signaling the end of the exercise. He rode over to them with eagerness, that insufferable smile of his as bright as ever. "Greetings, Edelgard! What do you think of my Freemen Militia?"

"You've done well, given the constraints of time and resources. Where did you get the armor?"

"The weaving houses saw a disruption in their ability to sell their wares, due to the war and the occupation so naturally they were willing to sell their services at a reduced price. Of course, that first meant that I had to determine a scheme for distributing the pay amongst the workers, but… no matter."

"What is our strength at arms?"

"Five hundred Unsullied left as a garrison by the Queen. With the armor surrendered to us by the Wise Masters we could field perhaps five thousand in defense of the city, but the bulk of those would be untrained tradesmen who would not willingly follow us to war."

"How many could we take on campaign?"

Ferdinand's eyes widened. "Why should we do that?"

"I asked you a question."

"Two thousand," he said, simply. "If we empty the city entirely of our forces, we could field a thousand militia, alongside the unsullied, the imperial soldiers, and a few of the Second Sons who remain in the city with us."

"Excellent," Edelgard replied. "I want you to increase that number to four thousand by the end of the month."

Ferdinand blinked. "You want me to triple the number of the militia in a single month? "

"Astapor, our neighbor to the south, has been eating itself alive this past month. The Dragon Queen's council has been killed and a butcher named Cleon has risen in their place. He has all the hallmarks of being a truly terrible tyrant. I shouldn't have to tell you the consequence of such chaos in our nearest neighbor."

Ferdinand frowned. "Refugees, rebels, and bandits spilling over the border into our territory. You fear that we will have to deploy forces to police the outlying lands and prevent bandit attacks?"

"Just so. The city is nearly starving as it is. If the roads were to become unsafe because of banditry..." She shook her head. "Besides this, there's New Ghis to consider. The word is that they've called most of their legions back to the capital. If they sail out in force we will need a large and strong force to meet them."

"Yes, yes, I see the need… however, the numbers you're requesting..."

Edelgard felt heat well up in her chest. "Are you saying that you are not up to the task?"

Ferdinand stood tall and puffed out his chest indignantly. "Of course not! I only mean to say that… steps will have to be taken. We have arms and armor and willing volunteers, but we have almost no officers, no experienced soldiers to act as commanders."

"So hire mercenaries."

"I've tried. There are mercenaries to be had, but no ships to carry them. Yezzan's fleets went rogue before the city fell, and as to the fleets of our neighbors, they will not so much as respond to my letters. The only mercenaries I've been able to find are those three."

He pointed to a trio of men sharing drinks near the back, their lighter skin and hair standing out starkly amidst the sea of Ghiscari. "I found those three on the docks," Ferdinand explained. "They managed to come over under the guise of being wine merchants and applied to me for work. No more than these have come."

The shortest of the three looked up suddenly and caught Edelgard's gaze momentarily, before looking away in fear almost instantly.

"They don't look like much."

"All three are reasonable fighters, but… yes, I have concerns about their loyalties as well. They are continually asking to hear of Queen Daenerys' movements. But this is the world in which we have come to be," he said helplessly. "The vast majority of this new world is opposed to us."

Ferdinand sighed, and at that moment something like understanding passed between them. However much they had clashed in the past, however much they disagree on matters of political theory… here, in this strange land, they were allies, and they would trust each other no matter what.