After securing the clean water source from Sakkos with some tough love, Marina turned her attention to the city's crumbling infrastructure. She assigned the establishment of a soup kitchen to Leslie, who was to be supported by Juan, Harold, Gregor, and Vasili.
Knowing that securing food supplies was just as critical as clean water, she turned to Dave her administrative staff for negotiations. What she hadn't entirely considered was that the 6'3 former navy mountain of muscle might have a slightly different approach to diplomacy.
Street-smart Luca, always in search of entertainment, found the prospect interesting and volunteered to join in. Marina was taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm, but she accepted nevertheless.
When they arrived in the lower city, Leslie's soup kitchen was already in operation.
Each person received a single liter of clean water—not much, but all they could afford. Initially, they had planned on three liters per person, but upon arrival, they realized the census was woefully inaccurate. There were far more people than recorded, a grim testament to how little the nobles cared for the lower classes.
However, the kitchen didn't serve soup. Instead, it distributed dried vegetables and salt, courtesy of Dave and Luca.
The duo had "persuaded" a shady merchant, Bartholus, to cooperate. Surprisingly, Bartholus had already signed a contract with the governor's office to become their primary supplier before even being asked.
Marina found his enthusiasm intriguing but ultimately attributed it to Dave's persuasive skills. What she didn't know was that had she inspected the man more closely, she would have noticed the tight bandages beneath his fine garments, the only thing keeping him in one piece.
The men of the Velkas navy believed in chivalry, that women should be spared from ugly things. So, Dave and Luca had ensured that every visible portion of Bartholus remained untouched, leaving just enough for business to proceed without alarming their governor.
As each person collected their rations, they were instructed to boil their water before drinking. Some were grateful. Others hoarded supplies. Without proper ledgers, Marina knew they would be taken advantage of. But for now, it was a necessary loss.
Her growing reputation as the noble-beating governor earned her unexpected trust among the people.
Finally, Marina arrived at the dilapidated underground sewers of the lower city.
Some areas had partially caved in, while others bore signs of secret storage operations. They would need more workers. Her own team and the handful of returning city officials weren't enough. They needed locals, people who understood the city's hidden pathways and could withstand Aeger's sweltering heat.
She had been diplomatic with the merchants and nobles thus far, but now, it was time for them to contribute something beyond exploitation. If they had built their wealth off Aeger's lawlessness, then they could damn well help rebuild what they destroyed.
It was time to start collecting debts.
Marina conducted an immediate city-wide survey, identifying major contamination points and areas suffering from malnutrition and sickness. She spent the entire afternoon assigning people left and right, and most of the staff who had returned to the governor's office were immediately placed on sanitation duty.
She launched the first major sanitation initiative, focusing on reopening old aqueducts, repairing broken sewage systems, and enforcing waste disposal laws.
The decree was issued the same day. By Marina's command, all major noble estates, business guilds, and trade syndicates were required to contribute workers, materials, and funds to the sanitation project. Those who resisted would find themselves unable to operate in the city—an economic chokehold they could not afford.
Predictably, outrage followed.
"The Governor is overstepping her authority!" one merchant bellowed, his plump fingers trembling as he clutched the edict. "She has no right to force us into this labor!"
"This is absurd!" another noble spat, his golden rings clinking as he slammed his fist against his dining table. "How dare she demand our laborers?"
Meanwhile, as the nobles cried out in indignation, some scrambled to find loopholes, attempting to file appeals with the court. Others ran to the Grand Palace, wailing to the Diarchy like distressed children tattling to their parents.
One particularly rotund noble, drenched in sweat from his hastily arranged visit to the palace, gasped, "Your Highness the Golden Lion, Your Highness the White Tiger—she is a menace! A tyrant in the guise of a governor! Surely you see reason?"
His complaints were met with a long, unimpressed silence. A bored court official yawned audibly. One noble, seeing that the twin kings were in no hurry to interfere, awkwardly patted his own stomach in frustration, muttering something about stress-related indigestion.
Back in the city, Marina remained unimpressed. She had no patience for those who profited while others died. She dispatched Jean and a contingent of soldiers to 'gently remind' them of their civic duties. The message was clear—contribute, or suffer the consequences.
To Marina's surprise, some complied without resistance. The more intelligent nobles understood that a dead workforce meant dead profits. The smarter merchants recognized that a plague reaching the upper districts would be disastrous for business.
And then there were those who refused outright.
By the evening, Marina had nearly turned the lower town upside down—quite literally in some cases. She had personally led the charge in clearing out illegal drug storage areas in the sewers, sending smugglers scrambling like rats from a sinking ship.
Her unexpected raids on corrupt trade hubs had left merchants clutching their chests in melodramatic despair, as if she'd personally snatched the coins from their purses.
One particularly dramatic bootlegger had collapsed against a barrel of contraband liquor, wailing about how 'no one respects tradition anymore!' Marina, unimpressed, had merely rolled her eyes and ordered his operation dismantled.
The sheer chaos of her actions had left a wave of confusion, fear, and begrudging respect among the lower city's inhabitants. It seemed the so-called 'southern coward' had no intention of playing by the usual rules.
Just as she was preparing to continue, a jeep screeched to a halt near her. The soldier who had escorted her to the Twin Kings on the first day of her arrival in Aeger jumped out. Unlike their first encounter, his demeanor was different—more measured, more respectful.
Marina noticed the shift instantly. She had seen it before—the kind of respect given not because of titles or bureaucracy but because of perceived power.
The soldier had realized that Marina was not some meek bureaucrat doomed to fail. More importantly, he had noticed that the Twin Kings seemed... interested in her. And that, in Aeger, meant everything.
Marina, the unfeminine Southerner, a woman from a region scorned for avoiding confrontation, had somehow drawn the attention of the infamous diarchy. More than that—she had sat on His Highness the Golden Lion's throne. A feat unheard of.
The soldier took a steadying breath before speaking. "Governor, you are being summoned to the Grand Palace."
Leslie exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose as the soldier relayed the summons. He had anticipated the Twin Kings would call, but not so soon—nor so abruptly.
Without a word, he draped Marina's military jacket around her shoulders, his touch firm but quick, as if reinforcing her armor for the battlefield that lay ahead.
"Be careful with your words," he muttered, his voice low and urgent. "I can't leave my post to go with you, but don't let them back you into a corner."
Marina nodded and went with the soldier.
Which led to Marina standing before the Grand Palace once more, summoned like an unruly child before the Twin Kings of Aeger.