Elaena lounged on the bed, her back propped up by soft pillows as the warmth of their shared bedchamber settled around her. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The ledger in her lap was filled with neat rows of numbers, a record of the kingdom’s spending and the treasury's health. She flipped through the pages with practiced ease, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"You’ll need to suggest an increase in grain imports at the council meeting tomorrow," she said, her voice low but firm. "The harvest has been poor in the Reach, and the cost of feeding the cities will only rise. We can adjust the levy on salt to compensate."

She paused, eyeing the numbers on the page as she tapped the edge of the ledger thoughtfully.

"Also, remind them that the royal household has been spending far more than it should. Cut back on unnecessary luxuries, especially in the King's own wardrobe. The treasury is not a personal purse."

She looked up at her husband, still sprawled beside her, half-listening but more than capable of relaying her commands. "Make sure they know we're not running a charity. If they want more soldiers, they need to understand the cost."

Her fingers idly traced the edge of the book, her expression cool, but there was an underlying fire in her gaze—sharp, shrewd, and utterly in control. "You’ll handle it, won’t you?" she added, a subtle challenge in her tone as she tilted her head toward him. "Make them listen. No more waste."

She resumed her reading, as if the matter was already settled.