Quinlan descended until his boots touched the roof of the market hall, and Jasmine slipped out of his grip before he'd fully landed.
She was already moving.
The Tyrant of Commerce crossed the rooftop, pulling her hair back into a working knot with practiced fingers while her gaze swept the central square below. She had a hundred thousand people to organize before nightfall.
"Count Aldren!" her voice cut through the crowd with the crisp authority of a woman who had been planning this conversation for hours. "I need you at the government hall. Bring whoever passes for a logistics coordinator among your staff. We're establishing administrative districts tonight, and I want preliminary census numbers by morning."
