The other two offices sat outside the palace proper. The Keeper of the Peace worked out of the main inner gatehouse, and the Master of Instruction's office was kept in the main barracks. Both often had seats in Reitz's private council, but neither helped with what Ezra was trying to build.
The Keeper of the Peace was, in Ezra's head, a police force and a Department of Defense rolled into one. He didn't just chase thieves. He controlled patrols, gate enforcement, arrests, and the kind of response that made ordinances real—escorts, raids, cordons, and "move this or else." If another office needed something enforced, or a situation needed to be contained before it turned into a riot, it passed through the Keeper's hands. It wasn't just in Bren too, it was for the whole of Fulmen. The office handled patrol rotations, assigned who was to go on missions and where they should be deployed.
The Master of Instruction sounded like a department of education, but it wasn't—at least, not in the way Ezra meant. While it did handle some matters of education, it only pertained to squires and would-be knights: physical and magical training, basic literacy, basic arithmetic, and etiquette. It acted more like a recruitment and screening office that liaised with the Keeper of the Peace than an actual department of education, because every system eventually needed bodies to carry it out.
For what he was planning he needed more hands, he was a toddler with no power at all and that needed to change. If he wanted to be taken seriously he needed to get results fast. Ideas were always around but execution was different. He already a had plan to curb the child mortality rate at least in Bren, but a lot of it had to do with infrastructure changes. There was no way that anyone in the council or even Reitz would listen to him but he shot his shot.
***
Reitz was in his private study when Ezra visited.
"Ezra, my boy, I didn't expect your company," Reitz greeted him with a toothy grin.
"How goes your rounds? Like what you see?" Reitz teased. For the past few days he'd known Ezra had been going around the offices, asking what people were doing. They'd left him largely unsupervised, other than the knights assigned to him. Reitz and Aerwyna had agreed to let him do as he pleased as long as it stayed within Bren.
In one of Reitz's meetings with his private council it was even brought up that Ezra had visited and he had peculiar requests—not the sort of requests toddlers made, but seasoned administrators. Kestel had even joked to Ashen and Aed that they would be next. Ezra never came to their offices though.
"I've heard that you've been going over Maester Rowan's rolls," Reitz continued. "You had your retainers and your knights go over the death registry rolls for up to ten years—pull out each listed cause of death, tally them, and put it all into one book."
Reitz paused. "You think Rowan's rolls are wrong? Or that the reports are missing something?"
"It's not that," Ezra blurted.
There are just some things I understand more, he thought.
"I was just gathering data."
"Data?" Reitz asked, one eyebrow lifting.
"I meant I was looking for patterns, so I know what to do about children dying in Bren," Ezra said.
Reitz closed his eyes like he was on the verge of a headache.
"You know, half my advisers were impressed that you could do numbers with your head in half a heartbeat. The other half think it's just antics." He opened his eyes again and looked at Ezra. "And the ones calling it antics are the ones that will take offense the fastest."
"Do you know how old noble children learn how to count? Never mind—don't answer, you probably do."
Ezra didn't.
"The point is, I understand that you want to help. I really do. But I think we should tone down on the feats, eh?" Reitz held Ezra's gaze for a beat, then his grin returned. "Oh well. Everyone knows what you can do anyway. Why not just add more to the list? At least I'll have more things to brag about."
Reitz laughed. "So—what is your brilliant idea?"
Ezra took a breath. He kept his hands still in his lap. If he looked too eager, Reitz would treat it like a trick.
"Not idea," Ezra said. "Ideas. One large. The rest small."
Reitz's grin thinned into something more attentive. "Go on."
"The large one is water," Ezra said. "Not in the palace. In the outer ring. Sand filters."
Reitz blinked once. "Sand."
"Yes," Ezra said. "A bed of sand and gravel. Slow flow. It catches what you can't see. If the aqueduct water is clean at the head, it won't stay clean by the time it's drawn—people wash where they drink, animals get into it, barrels rot, hands touch everything. A filter at the draw point makes the last step clean."
Reitz leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "And how many draw points do you imagine there are in Bren?"
Ezra didn't flinch. "Enough that people don't walk half a mile for water. We start with two wards. Trial it. Then scale."
Reitz's gaze stayed on Ezra for a moment. This child, not even four, had already understood the mechanics of potable water.
"Ezra… I can understand what you mean, but the Censurae's audit hasn't finished yet. We are unable to send our quota of crystals and cores to Rexasticus, so right now we can't be too generous with coin. We do have a treasury, but using it would leave me very uncomfortable. Especially since this proposition of yours is untested."
Ezra nodded once. "That's why two wards first."
"That's still labor. Stone. Timber. Carters. Foremen. And I don't get to tell Draffen to conjure them out of air." Reitz's mouth twitched. "Not unless you've learned that too."
Reitz exhaled through his nose, amused again, but only for a moment. "Give me the reason I should spend coin I don't have, on a thing no one here has ever asked me for."
"Because, children under ten keep on dying by menial and preventable causes. That really bothers me. I am sitting here, eating on a table of luxury while the same children in the outer ring die of stupid deaths." Ezra's voice trembled slightly; there was a hint of hurt in it, and he paused.
"It's just not economical. Every death added is one less person that can contribute to the prosperity of the city."
Reitz looked at Ezra with an intensity that didn't carry fury—just comprehension.
Reitz finally nodded. "Okay, if you are so set on this, we can figure something out. Bren isn't poor by any means, but I would rather not spend that coin if I can help it. We are in the marchlands, Ezra. If we need to be able to muster troops in a heartbeat, then we use that coin. This doesn't look like an emergency from where I am looking. But if you really think that it will help, I can spend some amount. But you have to prove to me this works."
Ezra nodded.
"I can do it, we can start with one ward, if two is too much. Give me three months to prove the change. Maester Rowan can give you the tallies afterward. We just need a week to setup the infrastructure. I can give suggestions to Maester Draffen."
Draffen wouldn't like that. Reitz contemplated if he was genuinely trying Ezra's suggestion or just spoiling him. Reitz knew Ezra had read all the books in the library twice already, but he also knew that theory and implementation were not the same.
"Fine, but there will be rules," Reitz said sternly.
"First, it will be your job to convince Draffen of whatever design or improvements you have come up with."
Ezra nodded.
"Second, I will need to have proof of whatever thing you implemented works. So I will be very strict when it comes to this. If it doesn't make a significant difference, we stop everything."
Ezra nodded again.
"I will give you two wards for this. Understand?"
"Yes, Father."
"Okay, now tell me the rest of your plan."
"The other part, after the sand bend are minor changes that won't cost anything. Just hands."
"Continue."
"We mark clean draw points. We forbid washing and animals upstream of them. We put a barrier—just a rail—so people don't step into the trough. We put the latrines farther from the water in the worst places. We do it in two wards and we track sickness and child burials before and after," Ezra said. "In the two wards, we will have to enforce this."
"You want ordinances." Reitz's smile returned, smaller now. "But Ezra, ordinances are enforced for the whole city. For the two wards that would be harder to implement, but you can talk to Rowan and Ashen for that."
"There will be opposition to this," Reitz added. "People don't want their routines disrupted. Especially that the two wards are the only ones that are going to do them. They might feel that they are being singled out."
Reitz's eyes flicked briefly toward the door. "Also, Enforcement costs men."
"Then we do warnings first," Ezra said. "Then small fines. Or take the bucket. Not beatings. People follow rules they understand and can keep. We don't make a law they have no way to obey. Then if everything is okay we can tell them afterward, why we are doing this."
Reitz drummed his fingers on the desk. "And you really think a few rails and rules will change a death registry?"
Reitz had a complicated look on his face. He was still gauging Ezra. He knew the capability and intelligence of his son, and it never stopped frightening him. Magical potential was one thing, but this was another entirely: to look into the workings of a city, pull insight from rolls, and have a plan of action. That wasn't just intelligence. He didn't know what to call it, or how to feel about it.
Ezra hadn't second-guessed himself once. He spoke like he was sure in a way that carried the weight of seasoned administrators. His reasoning was grounded in something, and he'd proposed changes in enforcement and implementation without wavering.
"I think it will change enough," Ezra said. "And if it doesn't, we stop. But we'll know."
Reitz snapped back into the conversation at Ezra's voice.
"I'll leave the matter of coin to you and Maester Rowan. I'll give him some figure that I can part with."
Ezra nodded.
"There is another matter as well, Father."
"Oh?"
"Yes, I am creating a contraption, that will aide the most if not all offices. I think it will double productivity."
Reitz didn't answer. He only raised an eyebrow. He already knew Ezra had the skill of a master craftsman. He'd seen Ezra's room with carved contraptions scattered about. He had even seen complicated gear couplings Ezra had made when he'd been bored—back when he was still a baby. Now this would be the first time something practical actually came out of it. Reitz was more confident in Ezra's skill with mechanisms than with administration.
Reitz nodded.
"What do you need from me?"
"I am going to let you see what I made in a few days. I haven't started but I know what to build and how to do it. I can give the masons and carpenters instructions on how to do it. I think you can will see the benefits immediately."
"You're that confident?"
"Definitely," Ezra said.
"Well then, I'm looking forward to it."
A pause followed, but Ezra continued to stare.
"I'm sensing this isn't all of it," Reitz said. "What is it?"
"I have a request. Once I have presented and proved the usefulness of my device," Ezra paused, "I want something that makes sure that any usage, modification, or manufacturing of the apparatus will go through me until such a time I voluntarily forgo this right."
Reitz looked at Ezra bizarrely.
"You want a writ that says they will need your approval about anything that pertains to the device?" Reitz repeated incredulously, still eyeing him suspiciously.
Ezra nodded.
The moment persisted as Reitz's expression transitioned from bewilderment to acceptance.
"Fine," he said, "but I don't exactly understand why."
"You will."
Reitz looked at him again and chuckled. Barely four, and this little runt was thinking of politics already.
"Also, if you see how useful how the device is, I hope you can support me in creating the next one."
"What do you mean the next one?"
"I have two things in mind. The other one just requires more… finesse and… coin."
"If you can prove to me that the first contraption contributes as much and can save me as much, then I can promise you the coin that it saves for the other contraption."
Little did Reitz know that he would come to regret saying that.