"Tell me what I've missed," Caelen said, leaning back. "Everything."
The reports began. They covered the weeks of his absence with the dry, detached efficiency of men who dealt in numbers rather than blood.
The harvest tallies were better than projected; the southern fields had been unexpectedly productive, filling the granaries to the rafters.
Trade agreements with the eastern guilds were pending, requiring only his seal to activate. There were the usual, petty border disputes, two villages arguing over water rights to a shared tributary, a quarrel that was entering its third year of bureaucratic stagnation. The treasury was stable. The "Long Dark" had briefly slowed trade, but the markets were recovering.
Caelen moved through the items with practiced speed. The King was reasserting himself over the man who had spent a month in Nevareth watching Soren govern.
