Zai Tianci noted that this wife of his had already taken some level of initiative in her zombified state while he was cooking this midnight snack; some mathematical part of that psyche of hers put to work already aggregating together his analysis of the papers he had so well organized now into a strange, messy stack of seven different piles.

  Frustration hits his heart, a scowl emanating from this intrusion into his work before he suddenly sees the methodology to this… madness. “You think these guilds are connected in some way?”

  “Soup not spicy… me no likey…” Sophia’s face is flush against the table, the long critique from her diaphragm settling before she actually answers his question. “Allll~ seasonality looks the same way. And clients are shared too~”

  Gods above she’s good. Zai reminds himself to be vigilant as he now does see the pattern too.

  Sophia lazily begins to wake somewhat. “Do we knooowww whooose doing it??”

  “Mayor of course.” Zai rubs his forehead. “But I wonder how much of the town council as well.”

  “Mmmmm…” The Fourth Princess of the Ensolian Imperium murmurs to herself. “I think… the money from the Syndicate is going to different people. I think… that if they hide money from different sources… they can protect each other. Fishing has someone… farming has someone too… and maybe the hotel is the biggy.”

  “That’s too easy.” Zai begins.

  “Weeellll~, my brother always said to ‘don’t over complicate it.’” Sophia begins this most imperial of wisdoms to her politically married husband. “If someone is doing a bad thing… they probably are cutting corners already…!”

  It would make sense, at least in politics at this level of leadership.

  No personal staff numbering in the hundreds here, no funding in the millions to keep conspiracies spinning or bribed coin purses full. Down in this place, in this small town with an ocean view, maybe it was supposed to be simple.

  If it is that simple, why don’t we add a bit of complexity to it?

  There’s human politics still in play here, of the selfish and self-consuming kind. If just one small push could be made in just the right spot then this entire thing could fall apart.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Because that’s the weakness in conspiracies.

  When just a single peg falls, then the entire web falls beneath its own weight.

  “Maybe we just need one to fall.” Zai considers, gently whispering to himself. “If we can nail that Mayor, we could just step back and let the whole thing eat itself.”

  But the question remains on how to do it.

  Zai continues to himself, following his own pattern and base of knowledge.

  The constabulary certainly was the first, perhaps the most important key in all this. They were the first line of justice in this small place, and technically had the power to make an arrest with this level of irrefutable evidence presented to them.

  There’s a thought that crosses his mind. But if they were conspiring in this too…

  If they were involved then they should be the first to call for the downfall of the biggest animal in the flock; for the moment that thing falls the rest will consume it in a cannibalistic ritual of seizure and assassination (though, Zai hoped that being this low to the political ground nobody would resort to that).

  All the more reason to pit them against each other.

  “Sophia.” Zai begins, looking back to the young woman.

  Someone is drooling on the dining table, this Imperial Princess burying her head in a haphazard arm pillow and letting spit pool beneath her on fine Hong-er wood furniture.

  Shallow breaths, eyes gently shut; this…enemy… A poisonous part of Zai tells him, left completely defenseless in front of this prince. Take your chance now. The fate of the Dominion is in your hands.

  A part of his heart immediately pulses with guilt at that thought, a crippling pain that shoots across his chest. He prays for himself, at that implication. Gods above… save me.

  And his gods, or some terrifying part of himself, says the words that take him over: SAVE YOURSELF.

  And so Zai Tianci, Crown Prince of the Dominion, quietly rises from his chair and takes a cold, controlled step towards the Fourth Princess of the Ensolian Imperium.

  Sophia Elise the Eighth is exposed.

  Golden blonde hair falling like a curtain over her face, the nape of her neck left open to this one spectator. A pale complexion reflecting the warm glow of the table lamp, and now this close the Crown Prince could see the beads of sweat collect on her clothes, on her exposed skin… pooling on her collar bone.

  Her chest, crumpled in her hunched sleeping position, moves alongside the long, slow breaths. A sign of life, the ever-current pulsation of the breath.

  Her chest rises. Falls.

  She inhales.

  She exhales.

  There is a knife on the dining table.