The northern iron merchants were, to put it mildly, robbing the fortress blind.

I sat at the massive, dark oak desk in the Warlord’s solar, staring at a stack of incredibly disorganized parchment ledgers. Quartermaster Koji stood at attention on the other side of the desk, his scarred face looking genuinely stressed as he watched me drag a finger down the column of ink.

"Quartermaster," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "Why are we paying a forty percent premium for coastal salt when we control the only iron trade route that the coastal merchants need to supply their shipyards?"

Koji swallowed hard. The seasoned warrior, who had regularly faced down corrupted beasts and capital assassins without blinking, looked terrified of my index finger.

"It is a traditional tariff, Lady Kitsune," Koji explained carefully. "The coastal guilds have always charged a premium for winter deliveries. Lord Akira usually just approves the extra expenditure to ensure the men have enough preserved meat."

"Lord Akira is a brilliant military tactician," I said flatly, tapping the parchment. "But he is letting them run a basic inflation scam."

Koji blinked, looking confused. "A scam, My Lady?"

"My Uncle Kenji didn’t just make me scrub floors, Koji," I explained, leaning back in the heavy leather chair. "He was a low-level black-market merchant who was too cheap to hire an actual accountant. Whenever the Emperor’s tax collectors came around, I was the one sitting in the dark, forging his shipping ledgers so he wouldn’t get thrown in prison. If the books didn’t balance perfectly, I didn’t eat for two days."

I pointed at the merchant’s seal at the bottom of the page.

"I spent nine years cooking the books for a paranoid drunk," I told him grimly. "I know exactly what a fake tariff looks like because I used to invent them. This merchant is claiming ’winter hazard pay’ for a route that hasn’t seen snow in three weeks."

I pulled a fresh piece of parchment toward me and picked up a quill.

"We are not paying the premium," I declared, quickly drafting a new missive. "Send a message to the head of the coastal guild. Tell them that if they do not drop the winter tariff by fifty percent, the Northern Marches will immediately halt all iron shipments to their shipyards. Let’s see how well their boats float when they don’t have nails."

Koji’s eyes widened. A slow, deeply impressed grin spread across his scarred face. He looked at me not just as the Warlord’s wife, but as a fellow survivor.

"That is... incredibly ruthless, My Lady," Koji noted, bowing his head. "They will panic within the week."

"I call it aggressive budgeting," I smiled, sliding the parchment across the desk to him. "Now, let’s look at the grain stores. I think we can stretch the winter wheat if we—"

The heavy oak doors to the solar swung open.

The temperature in the room instantly spiked. Akira strode in, bringing the sharp scent of winter pine and cold air with him. He had just returned from morning drills on the training grounds. He was wearing his dark leather sparring tunic, his hair slightly damp from the snow, and he looked absolutely devastating.

Koji immediately snapped to attention, saluting his Warlord.

Akira didn’t even acknowledge his Quartermaster. His amber eyes locked completely onto me.

Before I could even set my quill down, Akira crossed the room in three massive strides. He didn’t walk around the desk to look at the ledgers. He didn’t ask Koji for a report.

He just reached down, grabbed me by the waist, and effortlessly lifted me entirely out of my chair.

"Akira!" I yelped, instinctively dropping the quill as my feet left the floorboards.

He didn’t put me down. Instead, the terrifying, legendary Demon Prince of the North calmly sat down in my heavy leather chair. Then, he adjusted his grip and settled me securely sideways across his lap, wrapping his massive arms tightly around my waist.

He buried his face directly into the crook of my neck, letting out a long, rumbling sigh of absolute contentment.

The solar fell dead silent.

I sat completely frozen on my husband’s lap. I slowly turned my head to look at Quartermaster Koji.

Koji was staring straight ahead at the stone wall, his face completely blank, desperately pretending he wasn’t witnessing the most feared man in the Empire acting like an oversized, incredibly needy guard dog.

"Akira," I whispered, my cheeks burning with a furious blush. "I am working."

"Work," Akira mumbled against my collarbone, his breath sending a shiver straight down my spine. "I am not stopping you."

"You are sitting in my chair," I pointed out. "And I am sitting on you."

"A tactical improvement," he murmured, his arms tightening around my waist to ensure I couldn’t escape. "The fortress is freezing. You were shivering."

"I was not shivering! I was intimidating the coastal merchants!" I huffed, trying to push his heavy shoulders back, but it was like trying to push a mountain. The tension and fear that had kept him strictly at arm’s length in the capital had completely vanished. Now that the tether was sealed and we were home, The Warlord had zero boundaries left.

"Intimidate them from here," Akira suggested reasonably, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just beneath my jaw.

I let out a completely flustered sigh, realizing it was a battle I was not going to win. I awkwardly leaned forward over his thick arm, reaching for the grain ledgers on the desk.

"Fine," I grumbled, dipping my quill back into the inkwell. I looked back up at Koji, who was still staring rigidly at the wall. "As I was saying, Quartermaster. The winter wheat."

Koji cleared his throat loudly, his eyes locked firmly on a tapestry across the room. "Yes, Lady Kitsune. The silos are at eighty percent capacity. However, Commander Tomoe is currently dealing with a minor incident at the southern gates regarding a lumber caravan and Lord Yuki’s demands for a new scratching post."

"Tell the Commander to give Yuki a block of pine and tell him it’s rustic," I sighed, deeply appreciating Koji’s absolute refusal to look at us. "He’ll fall for it."

"Right away, My Lady," Koji bowed crisply.

"You are going to ruin my terrifying reputation," I whispered to Akira, setting my quill down and leaning my head back against his shoulder as Koji gathered the signed missives.

"You threatened to sink an entire merchant fleet with a single piece of parchment," Akira rumbled softly, his thumb gently drawing circles on my hip. "Your reputation is perfectly intact. Let Koji handle the wheat. You have been looking at ink for three hours."

"If I don’t look at the ink, this fortress will go bankrupt buying premium fish for your cat," I reminded him.

"Then I will conquer a coastal city and take their fish," Akira replied instantly, without a single ounce of hesitation.

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, the sound echoing brightly in the warm stone room. I turned slightly in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing a quick, fierce kiss to his lips.

"You are ridiculous," I smiled against his mouth.

"I am yours," he corrected smoothly, his amber eyes shining with that deep, steady warmth.

Quartermaster Koji let out a very quiet, very deliberate cough as he reached the door.

"If the Lord and Lady excuse me," Koji said, pushing the heavy oak open. "I will... go deliver this threat to the coastal merchants immediately. Very urgent."

Koji practically sprinted out of the solar, pulling the doors shut behind him with a solid thud.

We were alone.

Akira leaned back in the chair, pulling me flush against his chest. The heavy, protective Warlord aura completely enveloped me, safe, warm, and utterly immovable.

I looked at the stack of unfinished ledgers on the desk. Then, I looked at the Warlord who had literally burned down a piece of the capital just to keep me safe, currently looking at me like I hung the moon and the stars.

"The wheat can wait until tomorrow," I decided, burying my face into his shoulder and letting the quiet peace of the North finally settle over us.