Being a boss is a bit like being a conductor. Some might say that the conductor is the only one who doesn't play an instrument, but if he weren't there, it wouldn't be called music—it would just be a bunch of crap noise keeping you up at night.

So here I am, the Chief Magistrate of the city of Lyubeck, barely 50 years old. Unlike the others, I was young and dynamic, and now I was finally getting the respect I deserved. Plus, it was written in the job description: 'you have respectability.' I don't even know what that means.

But what I didn't see coming was that the position also came with constant work to do. I thought it was like all other political jobs: warming the seats in the town hall a few hours a day, three times a week, doing nothing. But now I'm supposed to work?

In terms of image, it looked great. The faction of the sovereign of Lyubeck, with whom we'd been at war for 150 years, offered me a non-aggression pact. Being nice? It's strange, but hey, we can try a different approach. So, I set to work organizing a banquet: fine dishes, the best wines, the best troubadours in the region. Nothing beats good food and beautiful music while the population outside starves and freezes in the snow.

It's like when it's raining outside, right? You're glad to have a roof over your head, and you're even more glad when others are drowning in the downpour. Because somehow, the misfortune of others enhances your own happiness, doesn't it? Or am I the only one who feels that way?

Besides, I wanted my son to find a wife before the party started. So I forced him to find some wench to give us heirs. No need to be picky, right? We're not asking them to play Romeo and Juliet, just to have children.

A good, solid woman, that's all we need. After all, immortality comes down to two things: keeping the family name alive and leaving your mark on the family business.

Grandpa and grandma had their thing: craftsmanship and farming. They built it all: the forge, the tailor's shop, the wheat fields, the farm, the leather workshop, the lumberjack's cabin, the bakery... As for me, I'm going to build a bank: the Linderberg Bank. Ah! That has a nice ring to it. And the realization of wealth, of course, is when the poor willingly come to you to hand over their money, and with a smile, no less.

Ah, but that takes time. First, we had to build a pawnshop and then make it grow. Never forget this: no matter how rich you are, always start with a small project to test the waters and see who your next enemies will be.

That day's town hall meeting was a waste of time: too many applicants, too many competitors. Despite the bribes handed out, no results. I had to find a way to have the city's sovereign assassinated if I wanted to become queen. Hey, it wasn't my fault, society is violent.

Meanwhile, the ball I organized allowed me to solidify my alliance with the Tricorno faction—the ones with the purple flags, who dress in purple. Yeah, we all decided to have different-colored flags and outfits to better recognize each other at meetings.

That said, all this partying and time spent building my political empire made me realize a problem: where the hell had all our money gone? 2,700 gold pieces? That's all we had left? That's not even enough to pay for the dog's caviar, damn it.

With all the banquets, real estate purchases, bribes, and... well, I mean, because of those rat employees and the state that crushes us with unjustified taxes, we were now on the brink of ruin.

Finally, the day of Champlain's trial arrived. In the meantime, we had given up on our plan to assassinate the judge because, well, in the meantime, the judge had become our buddy. So Chandler Knight could accuse my husband of all the misdeeds he wanted; it wouldn't change a thing because the judge was on our side, and when it came time to deliver his verdict, he just got up to have his coffee, and Champlain finished his trial all by himself.

But come on, do you really think we bosses have nothing better to do than spend our time in court? We have a world to run, let me remind you.

Anyway, now that this trial was behind us, let's get back to business. The biggest problem we had after that was that the iron mine in Lyubeck wasn't producing enough. It was slowing down all the production. I would've loved to build one myself, but with my liberal arts background, I couldn't. All I could do was send my son Theo to train at the artisan guild. So it will be up to him to build a mine.

This is urgent, by the way, because financial problems have been occupying our family so much that it's the second time we've missed the chance to take the position of city sovereign. So, I make a tough decision and decide to sell the den of thieves. It's always hard to sell a business, especially after all the trouble I went through to steal it.

Anyway, that sale allowed us to keep our heads above water. 6,500 gold pieces, and we're back in the game baby, just in time for Edward Junior to make up his mind and propose to his big cow.

The wedding took place immediately, without a single coin spent. But what? She wanted a wedding in a church, and Edward Junior proposed to her in a church. She should have specified if she wanted a ceremony. The tradition in our family is that right after the wedding, it's time for kids. We don't have time to organize honeymoons, and besides, they're too expensive.

Anyway, good job, the grandkids were on their way. So to celebrate, I take out a small loan of 30,000 gold pieces. Of course, I was too old to pay it back, so it will be up to my grandchildren to do it. And besides, it will be like a little souvenir from their Granny.

By the way, when there's enough for one, there's enough for two. Maria, my son's wife, gave us a grandson, and I decide to name him Paul because... I couldn't think of anything and I don't care. And yeah, I'm complaining because everything's going to hell.

Almost three years now that the position of sovereign has slipped through my fingers, all because I had an alliance against me: Cédric Lancaster and the city's sovereign. The two posts below are held by members of his family: Logan Lancaster and Edgard Lancaster. Inbreds of the worst kind, always voting for each other, marrying each other, electing each other... So, no more Mr. Nice Guy in politics.

I tried the strategy of being conciliatory, organizing banquets, forging alliances, but it doesn't work. Grandpa was right from the start: a good stab in the face is what works.

So, I have the city's sovereign followed. One late evening, he strays from the city center to take a walk in the forest. The forest is dangerous; there are wild beasts lurking around, and he's probably going to buy something in a blacksmith's cabin. But alas, night falls so quickly in our lands, and it's no surprise that the sovereign of Lyubeck was unfortunately attacked and found dead the next day.

As the Chief Magistrate, it was my duty to lead the investigation, and the autopsy I conducted concluded that it was a wolf attack. A wolf attack with swords, yeah, forests are super dangerous now, don't go there.

Oh, of course, it's unfortunate for democracy that the only higher position is held by just one person: me. But don't worry, when I'm elected, I'll organize hunts to track down those damned wolves. I promise. And of course, we won't forget that band of bandits who ruthlessly slaughtered the entire Lancaster family that night.

Ah, it's terrible, isn't it? They were all dead: wife, children, all of them. While the grandfather was being killed by a pack of wolves armed with swords, the others were being slaughtered outside the tavern by bandits.

And as the Chief Magistrate, I suspected these same wolves of having sold their weapons to the bandits to commit their crimes.

So, without delay, I send my son Edward Junior to file his candidacy just minutes after the two candidates were found dead. No time for funerals. Ah, the show must go on, as the young folks say. And besides, I think that's what they would have wanted.

It's funny, by the way, because while my son and my husband were setting up a double murder that will never be blamed on them, I, on the other hand, had just sentenced a guy to death for stealing a tomato. Yes, but he deserved it; it was a big tomato, too.

The future was gradually brightening before me. All that was left for me to do was find a solution to the lack of minerals: bribing officials, storming a mine, whatever it takes, because my forges had been at a standstill for two hours and my workers were sitting around doing nothing. They had been sitting there for three hours doing nothing. If this kept up, they would start thinking.

Finally, the time for democracy had arrived, and since there was only one candidate, there was no need to continue the debates. And that wasn't the end of it. Next up were the other positions: executioner and landowner. The position would be decided by drawing lots. And you know, when drawing lots, the most important thing isn't knowing where the short straw is, but who's holding the short straw.

Victory is complete. So, kneel, kneel before your queen, Castille Linderberg, Queen of Lyubeck.