Girardi had gone home.
Annan stood by the window and watched Girardi, no longer happy, leave Free City with his convoy in the evening sun. It was like looking at another version of himself.
Some things were not Girardi's fault.
He longed for freedom, had no interest in power, and stood near the bottom of the line of succession. If nothing had gone wrong, he would have spent his life idling away at his Manor.
But the Mad Dog Duke had killed every heir and every relative who defied him, while Free City had executed the remaining relatives who sided with him. Girardi was the only one left in the family.
He had not been ready. The throne that countless people had fought for, sacrificed everything for, and dreamed of had been shoved into his hands.
Whatever happened, Girardi had no other choice. He could either get absurdly lucky and find another direct descendant of Montablin Rock somewhere, or have a son and endure twenty years before handing the throne to him.
"Claire will be a strict sister," Olmedo said as he came over.
"But neither of them knows a thing about politics."
"Like you said, how much worse can it get?"
Idelia was selecting Graduates to support the Duchy. They would help Girardi and Claire stabilize the situation, and a hundred-strong unit of the Guard Legion would go with them.
More than protection, that unit was a warning to the Duchy's nobles to cooperate with the Grand Duke.
The Mad Dog Duke might have left the Montablinlock Duchy in ruins, but it still had some foundations left—the Mage Association, for example.
Annan left the Duchy's affairs to the two Deputy City Lords and turned his attention back to "Everyone's Singer."
People everywhere seemed to be going through withdrawal. The