Mariana Va Ironblade sat behind Elara's desk as morning light filtered through the administrative office windows, illuminating stacks of documents that never seemed to diminish no matter how many hours she spent working through them. The chair felt too large for her frame, designed for someone with Elara's commanding presence rather than her own more protective approach to leadership.

Two months had passed since Elara left for the capital, and what had started as temporary duty had become her new reality. Each decision was made by asking herself "What would Elara do?" but increasingly, she found herself trusting instincts that felt entirely her own.

The accumulated backlog of county business sprawled across every available surface, trade disputes, resource allocation requests, border security reports, and the endless stream of administrative requirements that kept a county functioning. Her personal guard training showed in her alert posture, ready to respond to threats even while buried in paperwork, though the threats here were bureaucratic rather than physical.

Learning by necessity had shaped her approach to leadership. County officials who had initially questioned her authority now sought her judgment with genuine respect. Where Elara had commanded through strategic brilliance, Mariana was discovering she led through protective care, treating the county's problems as threats to her family that needed to be neutralized.

The burden was heavier without Salomonis's guidance, which had been withdrawn when he was summoned to the capital. Every decision fell entirely on her shoulders, but surprisingly, that weight was becoming comfortable rather than crushing.

****

The county hall's main chamber filled with petitioners as mid-morning brought the day's formal proceedings. Mariana settled into the hearing chair with the careful attention of someone who understood that every decision affected real people's lives.

Lord Thorne, a mid-level noble with holdings along the eastern border, presented his case with the formal courtesy that barely concealed growing frustration. "My lady, the Brightwater estate's new irrigation channels are diverting water that has served my lands for three generations."

Lady Celeste Brightwater, representing merchant interests with equal nobility of bearing if not blood, responded with practical concern. "The tributary has sufficient flow for both estates if managed properly. Lord Thorne's objections stem from tradition rather than necessity."

Mariana listened with the patience of someone who recognized vulnerability beneath formal positions. Her military training had taught her to assess battlefields, but months of county leadership had taught her to assess human needs.

What would Elara do? she thought automatically, then caught herself. No.... what do these people actually need?

The realization hit her like a physical shock. For the first time, she hadn't reflexively deferred to her sister's methods. She was thinking as herself.

"Lord Thorne, your concerns are valid," she said, her voice carrying protective authority that surprised her with its naturalness. "But we solve this together, not through escalation that benefits no one."

Her solution came from instincts she was still discovering: seasonal usage agreements that honored tradition while accommodating growth, shared maintenance responsibilities that would build cooperation rather than resentment, and county oversight that ensured both parties' prosperity.

Both petitioners left satisfied, recognizing genuine care for their success rather than mere administrative expedience. Mariana watched them depart with growing amazement at her own capabilities.

I'm actually good at this, she realized. Not Elara's way, but... my way.

*****

The afternoon brought citizen audiences in the hall's public chamber, where Mariana's maternal nature found its most natural expression. The formal trappings of government fell away as she dealt with people whose problems were immediate and personal.

Elena the Baker entered with the worried expression of someone whose livelihood affected half the town. "My lady, the grain shortages are driving up costs. If I raise bread prices, families go hungry. If I don't, my bakery fails."

Mariana's protective instincts engaged immediately. "We'll arrange grain subsidies through county reserves," she decided without hesitation. "Your bakery feeds half the town, we protect what protects us."

Old Henrik, a veteran whose service record she recognized from guard training, struggled with storm damage to his farm. Before he could finish explaining his situation, Mariana was already approving repair assistance and arranging skilled labor through county connections.

"You served the realm," she told him with quiet conviction. "Now the realm serves you."

The Widow Meredith's request for education assistance for her children received not just official support, but personal attention as Mariana arranged tutoring through relationships she'd built during her months of leadership.

Each interaction built her understanding of what leadership actually meant. Citizens responded to her genuine care in ways that surprised her, not just compliance, but gratitude that felt almost familial. She was discovering abilities she hadn't known she possessed, finding satisfaction in protection that extended beyond physical security to encompassing entire lives and livelihoods.

This isn't just duty anymore, she realized as the last petitioner departed. This is becoming part of who I am.

****

As the day's official business concluded, Captain Reynolds appeared in her office doorway with the carefully neutral expression that meant concerning news.

"Ma'am, about that light beam a week ago, the one visible from the capital direction," he began with professional precision.

Mariana's guard training immediately focused on potential threats. "What did our scouts determine about the source?"

"Capital says it was a magical experiment. Some kind of defensive testing," Reynolds reported. "But the rumors coming with the trade caravans..."

The unofficial accounts painted a picture that challenged reasonable assessment. Whispers of factional fighting within the capital mixed with claims that the Empress had defeated a devil and ascended to godhood. Most absurdly, several merchants swore they'd seen dragons flying over the imperial district.

Mariana applied her military experience to separate probable truth from obvious fiction. Internal conflicts were always possible in politics, that rumour carried unfortunate plausibility. The divine ascension claims sounded like propaganda designed to bolster imperial authority after some crisis. But the dragon sightings...

Those are either complete fabrication or terrifyingly accurate, she concluded. No middle ground on something that impossible.

Her primary concern lay beneath all political considerations: Elara's safety. Whatever had caused that light beam, her sister was in the middle of it.

"Keep information restricted to essential personnel," she decided. "But quietly prepare contingency plans for various scenarios. If the capital is genuinely unstable, we need to be ready."