I yield the rest of my time to Queen Ileosa; I think she had something she wanted to say.

Now imagine that I'm not actually saying that but it is written on my face.

You are, of course, quite welcome.

The year is 4700, Absalom Reckoning.

Aberian Arvanxi has recently had his neighbors' daughters murdered.

A twelve-year old Ileosa is inconsolable.

They had a fight some days ago. She cast spells on him.

New ones, first-circle.

Attack spells. Flush with pride and flush with fear, Aberian hit her until she stopped.

Now they haven't spoken in days. Ileosa won't even come down for meals. Just sits up in her room all day playing that flute he'd bought her.

For twelve years he's been too soft on her, and it now fills him with fear.

He sees holes in her education.

What happens if he dies? What would have happened if she'd killed him, and his coward lenience left his baby girl ill-equipped to survive alone?

While Ileosa plays her flute, Aberian plans her curriculum.

What does Ileosa nee Arvanxi, the most hated woman of any in Varisia, "Eodred's hired wife," "the Whore-Queen of Korvosa," have in common with an ancient Pharaoh who ruled Osirion as a god.

What does Ileosa Arabasti, who has suffered for every little thing she owns, who lives in a hole with people who hate her, have in common a woman who grew up in Age of Enthronement Cheliax and who now dwells in Paradise.

Ileosa was born clinging to a liferaft of sin and corpses, and shown that if she ever let go she'd drown. Since then she's - what, climbed on top of it? Bailed a little? Considered - just considered - trying to make it seaworthy?

How despicable of her.

But Ileosa... won't complain. Not about this in particular! She'll sure complain about other things.

But she won't complain of being born on the raft and not under it. Her father took pains to show her how deep is the storm-tossed sea of blood she floats on, and to impress on her how quickly she could find herself at the bottom of it. Never complain of your rung on the ladder or what it takes to keep it, he told her. People are listening, above you and below, and they keep their knives sharp.

Your life could always be worse.

She should be glad of the comparison to Nethys and Iomedae. Look, da, I made it.

I made it so good they say I had it made from the very start.

Some of you seem a little afraid of my man Togomor. I want to be clear that no one, no one here has any reason at all to be a little afraid of Togomor.

We Vault-dwellers are the all of us one company, steel cold-forged against an anvil icy and penumbral.

Those of us in this room saw Korvosa through its darkest night to date.

We all lost people that we loved, last night. The future of our nation stood in doubt. We rose to the challenge.

If some sparks flew, well, that's the hazard of working at speed and with passion.

I, for one, am prepared to just this once let bygones be.

...Are you, though? Are you really?

And I encourage everyone here with casus belli for continued animosity to do the same.

Circumstances, they mitigate.

Far from holding anger in my heart, I believe rewards to be in order.

Reward-type rewards, or "hahaha your reward is death"-type rewards?

Reward-type rewards.

I, Ileosa Arabasti I, Queen of Korvosa, Steward of Chellish Varisia, decree that every single single Korvosan who can hear these words has earned a knighthood and the title of baronet.

Lands on the surface will be divided among you. If your landlord was eaten by a shadow, the home you are accustomed to living in will be awarded you and subtracted from your demesne. I think it would be a black mark of shame on the Crimson Throne if any veteran of the Vault survived the shadows and went back to renting.

Come forward, dames and sirs, single-file but double-quick; speak your name and kneel before me to receive your knighthood.

...Is this a trap.

If it is, it's baited with delicious Galtian cheese.

The common people's attitude towards Ileosa improves, on average, by one step; from Hostile to Unfriendly, from Unfriendly to Indifferent, from Indifferent to Friendly. The rare few Friendly people in the crowd are now positively Helpful.

The existing nobility's opinion of her moves just as sharply in the opposite direction.

Knights of the Vault!

Last night was the darkest night in Korvosa as yet. But the danger isn't past us.

We teeter, perched on the precarious point of a poignard.

Doom for everyone in this Vault could look as innocuous as a child going unminded for the wrong five minutes, a missing person unnoticed for twenty seconds too many, a wizard's warning that fails to properly percolate, let alone poor teamwork or slow communication among civilians and the Guard.

We must be able to adapt quickly to changing circumstances. We must have clear lines of communication.

For the purpose of general organization, I, Ileosa, Queen of Korvosa, command that all Knights of the Vault arrange themselves into Vault Groups of 4d6. Each Group will elect a Vault Officer, who will appoint a Lieutenant Vault Officer. These are not military positions, nor are they paid positions. In fact, no one can hold any position higher than Lieutenant Vault Officer while simultaneously belonging to any military chain of command. Military people should be focused on their jobs.

It is the duty of a Vault Officer to concern themselves with the affairs of their Vault Group. A Vault Officer must serve as a mediator within their Group, liaison with the Korvosan Guard, and their advocate to the Queen and Seneschall. Take notice of situations - anything acrimonious or at all out of the ordinary - before they deteriorate, and provide timely solutions. Or escalate a budding problem to the Korvosan Guard and your Vault Captain.

I'll combine Vault Groups to form Vault Battalions. Each Battalion will have an elected Vault Captain, who will in turn appoint a Lieutenant Vault Captain. From the Captains I will select a Colonel.

All the food you can eat, and wine you can drink, the ear of the Queen, an eighth-circle wizard who cares about you more than does Toff Ornelos - these are only the bare beginnings of all which I will do for you.

Our situation is dire. I won't whitewash things or try to manage your emotions.

But among our many terrible and potentially lethal problems, we of Korvosa are lucky that we do not suffer from unresponsive and incompetent royalty.

Not while I sit the Throne.

The future is littered with prizes, and we can position ourselves to snatch the lion's share.

The world's old order is crumbling; we are of the few aware. We can be prepared to pick up the pieces.

Our experience with terror is hard-earned; would it not be generous of us to share what we've learned with all of Varisia? I say again, Korvosa will not fade into irrelevance while I sit the Crimson Throne.

On the whole this... seems like a positive development? And not clearly to Ileosa's advantage? Like, she just gave Cressida Kroft another organization to be openly secretly in charge of, and this one's got everybody in it.

What's the trap?

Why the uncharacteristic generosity? I don't remember anything like this happening in Curse of the Crimson Throne.