What Was It They Wanted Him to Do?

For an old man like the Grand Duke of Mainz, a roaring fire in the fireplace brought more warmth to the heart than the hot air blowing from a heater.

Especially after he had just told a chilling story from the capital.

Flames danced behind the wrought-iron grate, casting patches of orange and gold across the thick carpet and lighting the old man's pale, weary face.

Frederick took a slow sip of wine, then set his glass on the side table. His expression turned serious.

"Gallic nobles brought over by the Queen meddling in state affairs?"

He repeated the words in a quiet voice. Each one fell like an icicle dripping from the eaves, cold and dangerous.

The Grand Duke of Mainz's letter had only mentioned the military reforms. Frederick hadn't expected this as well.

"How far has it gone?" Frederick asked.

The Grand Duke of Mainz took another gulp of wine. The liquor brought an unnatural flush to his pale cheeks, but his eyes remained frighteningly clear—the look of a man who had weathered too many storms, cloudy yet sharp.

"Reviewing official documents was only the beginning." He put down his glass with a dull clunk. "Last month, three mid-level officials in the Royal Household's Ministry of Finance were transferred at the same time because of a corruption case involving royal lands. That part was fine."

"The problem is that every one of their replacements was a young noble the Queen brought over from Gaul."

He paused, the corner of his mouth curling with scorn.

"There was no paperwork. They didn't even go through the motions of a formal inquiry."

"One appointment order, and overnight, the key positions in the kingdom's finances had new occupants."

Frederick's brow slowly furrowed. He was still the Minister of Finance, and Rudolf, despite