Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

The golden rays of the morning sun spilled through the tall windows of the royal chamber, painting long lines of light across polished marble and rich tapestries. They climbed slowly over silken sheets and gilded furnishings, until they touched the edge of the great bed in the center of the room, where the Princess of Yarzat lay.

Jasmine stirred with a soft, involuntary murmur, her limbs stretching slightly beneath the delicate weight of the blankets. She had slept diagonally across the wide bed, her head nestled deep into the pillows, one arm sprawled above her crown like a sun-drenched sculpture, the other draped lazily over her bloated midsection.

Her dark hair was a gentle mess, thick, rich locks , the ends fluffy with sleep and stray strands curling in every direction.

As she shifted, the blanket slid down her side with the slow grace of silk, baring the curve of her bare back and shoulder.

She opened her eyes only halfway, blinking against the sunlight with the kind of disoriented softness that came not from unrest, but for simply being woken up.

Slowly, her body began to rise from the sheets, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her posture even as her mind returned to the world that awaited her command.

After a few quiet seconds spent blinking away sleep and gathering her thoughts, Jasmine noticed how empty the bed felt beside her. The sheets were cool where warmth should've lingered.

She turned lazily, her eyes scanning the room in search of the one who should have still been lying beside her.

A soft silent yawn escaped her lips as she stretched, arms rising above her head, the morning light tracing the curve of her shoulders.

That's when she spotted him seated at the table near the window, hunched over something, completely absorbed in whatever state business had stolen him away for before dawn.

A sly smile curved on her lips as a playful idea flickered to life.

Quiet as a whisper, she slid from the bed, not even bothering to cover herself. Her bare feet padded silently across the marble floor, the only sound in the room the turning of a page.

In one swift motion, she pounced, arms wrapping around Alpheo's torso from behind, yanking him back against her with sudden force.

Her hair fell in a wild curtain around his face as he jerked in surprise, arms flailing for balance. The chair rocked back dangerously.

"Gods—Jasmine!" he barked in alarm, twisting in her grip like a man thrown overboard.

She let out a bright, musical laugh. It bubbled out from deep in her chest and spilled into the quiet morning air, warm and unbothered, as she nuzzled her head into the side of his neck.

"You should've stayed in bed," she murmured through her laughter, still leaning over his shoulder. Her arms stayed wrapped around him like ivy, warm and insistent as the chair teetered back into place.

"You should've announced yourself. I am soft of heart, you know," he grumbled, though there was no real bite in his words. He adjusted himself on the chair, steadying the book he nearly sent flying, but he made no move to break free of her hold, not yet, anyway. Her breath against his neck was distracting, but not unwelcome.

Though he certainly disliked having his neck clasped by others.

"Your enemies would laugh if they heard that," she teased, voice a whisper laced with smug amusement.

"All my enemies have been humbled," Alpheo said dryly, flipping a page with deliberate calm. "And they have far more to cry about than my supposedly delicate nerves."

She chuckled and leaned her chin on his shoulder, watching as his eyes returned to the parchment in front of him. He seemed calm, composed, but she could feel the tension just beneath his skin. He was waiting for something.

Sure enough, the question came moments later, casual but unmistakably curious.

"What's that?"

Alpheo didn't lift his eyes. "The law reforms I've drafted. I've been reviewing them , checking for flaws, inconsistencies, something I might've overlooked."

Her brow arched lightly. "And did you?"

"Not yet," he said, though there was a shadow of doubt in his voice, the kind that only perfectionists carried.

Jasmine tilted her head, studying the side of his face with an impish grin. "Is the bed that uncomfortable? Or is it my company that makes you so restless in the morning?"

He let out a short laugh and finally turned his head slightly toward her, just enough for their eyes to meet.

"Neither," he said. "I'm simply an early bird by nature. Though perhaps I should clarify, it's not I who rise too soon. It is you who sleep too long."

He lifted his hand lazily, gesturing to the open window where sunlight spilled freely across the stone floor. "Look for yourself. It will be midday before long."

Jasmine followed the direction of his finger, and squinted into the sunlit sky with exaggerated offense. "Treason. You should've woken me."

"I did consider it," he said smoothly, turning back to his work, "but you looked far too peaceful. Like a cat in the sun."

She gave a mock gasp. "Did you just call me an animal?"

"I did, cats are elegant animal " he said with the sound of another page turning.

"So," Jasmine drawled accepting the compliment and settling beside him with a curious tilt of her head, "do you want to tell me why you felt it was necessary to reform the law? I'm sure there are more pressing matters that could've used your attention."

Alpheo didn't look up right away, his finger tracing a line down the edge of the parchment. "Most of the immediate work I've already delegated. A month has passed since our return, and I've spent that time reviewing reports, supervising from afar, and ensuring everything runs smoothly. What required my hand has already received it."

She lifted a brow. "You know I wasn't calling you lazy, if that's what you're thinking."

He smirked faintly. "I didn't think you were. If anything, I expected you to accuse me of never resting at all."

"Not far off," she murmured, eyeing the worn edges of the documents. "Still, lawmaking? That seems like the kind of thankless task you'd foist onto a minister."

"Normally, I would," he replied, finally turning in his seat to face her more fully. "But this particular task is... older than you think."

Jasmine narrowed her eyes playfully. "Alright, what am I missing?"

He leaned back slightly, a distant look creeping into his expression. "It was around three years ago, I believe. Maybe a bit more. We were here, in this very room. You found me poring over a dusty old volume, half-buried in legal codes . I remember telling you the laws were riddled with repetition, contradiction, and inefficiency."

Her eyes widened with sudden recognition. "You mean... you've been working on this since then?"

Alpheo nodded. "Not continuously, but yes. About four months after that conversation, I began sorting through the laws, deciding what to keep, what to revise, and what had no place in the state. I set the project aside many times, of course, as wars and crises demanded more of me."

He turned the book slightly so she could see the cover,it was plain and leather-bound.

"This," he said, tapping his finger against it with quiet pride, "is the result of nearly three years of intermittent work.''

"Alright," Jasmine said, folding her arms as she leaned on the table beside him. "Why spend so much effort on this? Why make it your business to fix what most rulers just let be?"

Alpheo glanced up at her, his eyes calm but focused. "Because for a state, there is no greater strength than standardization. The same laws for every city, the same rules for every judge, the same punishments for each crime."

He paused, gesturing loosely with one hand. "You've seen it already. I standardized the administration first, bringing all regions under a single bureaucratic system. Then the military, same equipment, same command structures, same drills . Then came taxation, uniform rates, predictable collection, and fewer collectors, each of whom has to report everything that they take, which is then effectively controlled to prevent them from playing their overseer."

"So now, naturally, the law?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Of course," he said with a small smile. "If the foundation's strong, it should hold everything else."

Jasmine gave a half-laugh and shook her head. "You know, I'm starting to believe you don't actually know how to rest."

Alpheo leaned back in his chair slightly, a dry smile tugging at his lips. "I rest enough. I've learned to make peace with a few hours of sleep, a walk in the gardens, or sharing a quiet moment over wine with some loud friends. Besides, this—" he tapped the book again, "—this has been gathering dust for months. I was simply waiting for the right moment."

"And you think now is the right one?"

"There won't be a better," he said simply. "We have, if luck holds, a stretch of peace ahead of us. Our enemies are humbled and the prestige of the crown... is at its peak. That's when change can happen then people trust the hands holding the reins."

He looked down at the parchment, then up at her again, his tone shifting, softer but firm. "Most nobles won't even notice what I'm doing. It won't strip their lands or titles or gold, but I will just tweak some small issues that they won't notice, social problems that I believe no civilised state can excuse to have, something that I have thought for a looong time to curb

And as I said, there is no better time than this."