"Wait!" Victarine's father shouted at her.
Savine peeked her head through the portal again and glanced at him.
"What now?"
"Please stop accepting the refugees into Fest."
Savine smiled, hearing that, and reappeared out of the portal.
"Why?" she asked playfully.
"If not, at least reduce the rate at which you hire them."
Victarine's father stood there silently, a difficult expression on his face.
"You don't want to explain?" she asked. "But I really want those people. So you just asking me to stop isn't enough. But if you give a good enough reason, then maybe I won't mind considering it."
"May we talk privately?"
"No." Savine's reply came immediately.
It was probably an odd sight, a duke of the Sovereignty standing helplessly before a woman covered in dirt and soot.
"…"
So very casually, she pulled a piece of the ground upwards and made herself a seat. She made herself comfortable on it and sighed.