Lord Blake strode through the torch‑lit corridors of Harmway's ancient citadel, boots drumming against tiles still veined with old Imperial mosaics. Gold‑rimmed sconces cast restless shadows that chased him along the walls—a fitting escort for the new "Protector of the Isle," the title the Free Council had coined when they dared not crown him outright.
Protector sounded temporary, harmless, polite; in practice it meant he held the same power the former Romelian governor once wielded—plus a tidy thirty‑percent share of every coin, bale, and barrel that crossed the island's quays. A compromise basically since the older alternative was assigning the important isle to Blake as a fief.
A option that for obvious choice was disregarded.
