Boundless Family Upgrades For The Deadbeat Lord

Alaric returned the following morning with six sheets of parchment, three hours of sleep, and the expression of a man who had discovered that Althoff’s administration was somehow worse on paper than it had sounded during the meeting.

Raymond found him in the dining hall before breakfast, arranging diagrams across the same tables that had carried the city plans the previous day.

Lily followed Raymond inside carrying his tea rather than a tower of territorial ledgers, and she looked noticeably happier about the arrangement.

Marianne arrived shortly afterward, followed by Boris, Jonathan, and Harlan.

Raymond had deliberately kept the gathering smaller this time. Torren, Oren, Darric, Edran, and the newly summoned specialists would be called whenever their fields were relevant, but yesterday had convinced him that putting every capable person in every meeting was another excellent way to waste capable people.

He took his seat at the head of the table, glanced at Alaric’s diagrams, and asked, ”Tell me you didn’t spend the entire night creating fifty departments.”

Alaric shook his head. ”No, my Lord.”

Raymond relaxed. ”Good.”

Alaric slid the first parchment toward him. ”I spent most of it deciding who should be allowed to create them.”

Raymond’s relief immediately disappeared.

At the center of Alaric’s proposal sat one simple problem: Raymond. Every important decision ultimately climbed toward the lord because that was how Althoff had always functioned, but the arrangement had only been tolerable when the barony contained twelve hundred starving people and almost no meaningful economy.

With more than five thousand citizens and dozens of development projects, Raymond could not personally approve every expenditure, construction request, appointment, patrol adjustment, market rule, land allocation, or supply movement.

Alaric explained it without criticizing him. ”Your authority must remain final, my Lord, but final authority and daily administration are different responsibilities. If every matter requires your approval before anyone can act, then the entire territory will always move as quickly as you can read parchment.”

Raymond looked at the documents beside Lily and grimaced. ”That may be the most terrifying threat anyone has made against me this year.”

Boris nodded. ”And we fought a Gold Rank beast.”

Raymond ignored him and motioned for Alaric to continue.

The first institution Alaric proposed was not a Department for farmers, merchants, builders, or soldiers.

It was a small governing council around Raymond himself. During winter, councils had formed whenever disaster demanded one and dissolved once the immediate crisis ended.

This would be permanent. Its members would represent the major concerns of Althoff and advise Raymond whenever decisions crossed multiple Departments, while specialists, commanders, craftsmen, or local representatives could attend when their knowledge was needed.

Raymond liked that immediately. ”No twenty-person meeting every time someone wants to repair a bridge.”

Alaric nodded. ”Exactly. The Administrator of Public Works may need to attend when we discuss major infrastructure, but there is no reason for that person to sit through every agricultural or military discussion.”

Jonathan gave a slow nod. ”That would be preferable.”

Boris glanced toward him. ”You say that because you’ve never listened to Harlan explain potatoes for an hour.”

Harlan remained completely serious. ”And yet you continue eating them.”

Raymond raised a hand before Althoff’s first permanent council collapsed into an agricultural dispute. ”Small council. Relevant guests. Good.”

Naming it took little time. Raymond wanted something simple enough that everyone understood what it was without needing an explanation.

Alaric suggested the Lord’s Council, and Raymond approved. It would not govern instead of him.

It would advise him, coordinate major decisions, settle problems that crossed administrative boundaries, and make sure the people responsible for different parts of Althoff actually spoke to each other before their plans collided.

Raymond remained Council Head and final authority. If everyone around the table disagreed with him, they were free to argue, warn him, provide alternatives, and preferably stop him from doing something catastrophically stupid.

The final decision, however, remained his. Marianne smiled at that explanation. ”Then perhaps we should establish very comfortable chairs.”

Raymond narrowed his eyes at her. ”I feel as though my own council is becoming hostile before it officially exists.”

Boris answered, ”Efficient development, my Lord.”

Permanent membership required more discussion. Alaric obviously belonged because someone needed to coordinate the developing civil administration.

Boris represented security and Althoff’s conventional military forces. Jonathan represented Raymond’s Household Knights and strategic military concerns, especially threats beyond what ordinary soldiers or guards could handle.

Harlan represented agriculture, still the foundation of Althoff’s survival and future economy.

Marianne would remain temporarily as the representative for civil welfare because she understood refugee housing, medical coordination, supply problems, and the practical difficulties citizens had faced throughout winter better than almost anyone present.

Marianne immediately made one condition clear. ”Temporarily, my Lord. I would eventually like to return to being your head maid rather than discovering a fifth occupation every morning.”

Raymond looked at her. ”You’re thirty.”

”Winter aged me.”

Boris coughed into his fist to hide a laugh. Raymond conceded the point. Selene Arward and future Department Administrators would gradually absorb Marianne’s territorial responsibilities.

Lily was not appointed to the Council. Raymond saw no reason to create an honorary position simply because she had carried responsibilities far beyond her age during the crisis.

She sat beside him because she was his personal maid and little assistant, brought documents when he requested them, took occasional notes, managed his personal schedule, and could leave whenever government discussions became unbearably dull.

Judging by the honey biscuit she was quietly eating while Alaric explained administrative hierarchy, she had already adjusted remarkably well.

Raymond noticed her staring at one calculation on Alaric’s parchment and made the mistake of asking, ”Problem?”

Lily swallowed before answering. ”Mister Dorne counted the same expenditure twice.”

Alaric paused, checked the page, and discovered she was correct.

Lily looked unbearably pleased.

Raymond rubbed his forehead. ”Yesterday I relieved you of this responsibility.”

”Yesterday you said I could still correct people when they’re wrong.”

Marianne turned away, shoulders shaking. Raymond sighed. ”I really need to become more careful with contracts around you.”

The larger question concerned Alaric himself. Raymond had no intention of creating an administration where every Department reported independently to him, because that would simply rebuild the existing problem under prettier names.

Someone needed to coordinate the civil side of government beneath Raymond, supervise Department Administrators, review routine decisions, consolidate reports, and ensure that one Department did not accidentally sabotage another.

Raymond preferred a straightforward title.

”Chief Administrator of Althoff,” he said, testing the words.

Alaric considered it and nodded. ”Accurate, my Lord.”

There was nothing inappropriate about the term. Althoff was building an administration, and Alaric would be the senior Administrator responsible for making that administration function.

Raymond had lived in a world where organizations collapsed under impressive titles attached to poorly defined jobs. He would rather use clear language and make sure everyone understood exactly who was responsible for what.

They spent the next hour defining the position carefully. The Chief Administrator would stand directly beneath Raymond in civil administration and coordinate the future Departments of Althoff.

Alaric could supervise senior civil officials, demand reports, resolve routine disputes between Departments, review expenditure within budgets Raymond had already approved, and carry the lord’s directives throughout the territorial administration.

He could not impose new taxes independently, dispose of House Althoff’s private property, grant noble privileges, alter major territorial policy, mobilize the military, or override Raymond’s direct orders.

He was not a substitute lord. He was the person ensuring the government continued functioning when Raymond was inspecting farms, visiting construction sites, dealing with military matters, sleeping, eating, or hiding from the forty-seventh merchant who wanted personal approval for a storage shed.

”If two Departments disagree?” Alaric asked.

Raymond considered it. ”If established policy already answers the question, you resolve it. If resolving it changes policy, requires major expenditure, affects territorial security, or creates a precedent likely to affect everyone, bring it to the Council or directly to me.”

Alaric nodded. ”Appointments?”

Raymond answered, ”Ordinary clerks and workers can eventually be appointed through their Departments once we establish standards. Department Administrators are appointed and dismissed by me, although you can recommend candidates.”

Boris leaned forward. ”Military appointments?” ”Separate chain of command. We’ll define that when we restructure the military.”

Jonathan remained silent but approving. Raymond wanted those boundaries established early.

The civil administration could coordinate with the military, request assistance, budget for it, and exchange information with it, but it would not quietly absorb military command simply because Alaric ranked highly within government.

The royal seal remained beside Raymond throughout the discussion. Every document referred to him exactly as the Kingdom knew him: Baron Raymond von Althoff, Lord of Althoff. Nobody questioned the title because nobody in the room knew there was anything to question.

The System could recognize him as a Count and House Althoff as a Tier-II Family, but that information belonged to Raymond alone. Until Solaria formally elevated him, the government he created would operate beneath his legitimate title of Baron.

Fortunately, five thousand people needed administration regardless of whether their ruler was a Baron or Count. The political contradiction could remain buried inside Raymond’s Family Panel until he had a reason and a safe method to address it.

By midday, the first layer of government existed on parchment. At the top stood Raymond as Lord of Althoff and Head of the Lord’s Council. Beneath his civil authority stood Alaric Dorne, Chief Administrator of Althoff.

Beneath Alaric would come the Departments they had yet to design, each with a defined jurisdiction, Administrator, staff, records, and authority. Military and security structures would retain distinct chains of command while remaining represented at the Lord’s Council.

The Council itself connected everything at the highest level without requiring every Department Administrator to become a permanent member.

Raymond read the structure twice, picked up his seal, and pressed it into the warm wax beneath the charter establishing the Lord’s Council and the position of Chief Administrator. He handed the document across the table.

”Congratulations, Alaric. You’re officially responsible for making sense of this mess.”

Alaric accepted it with both hands. Raymond pushed a fresh stack of parchment toward him and smiled. ”Enjoy today. Tomorrow, we build the Departments.”