The Gentleman's Agony

The Preservation Society might have been dismantled, but its ideology lived on.

Six months after the failed assassination attempt at the Royal Academy, a new organization emerged. They called themselves the Order of Tradition, and they were more sophisticated, more organized, and more dangerous than the Preservation Society had ever been.

The Order had learned from the Preservation Society's mistakes. They didn't use bombs or assassins. They didn't hold secret meetings in warehouses or plot obvious conspiracies. Instead, they worked through legal channels, using the kingdom's laws and institutions against the reforms.

Their strategy was brilliant in its simplicity: they would strangle the reforms with bureaucracy.

They filed lawsuits challenging the legality of the Shared Bond system, arguing that it violated ancient laws about magical practice. They lobbied the nobility to block funding for the pilot programs, claiming that the money would be better spent on infrastructure and defense. They spread propaganda through carefully placed articles in newspapers and pamphlets, claiming that the reforms were destroying the kingdom's economy and social fabric.

And they were effective. Devastatingly effective.

The pace of reform slowed dramatically as Elara found herself fighting legal battles instead of implementing change. Every new regulation was challenged in court. Every expansion of the pilot program was blocked by funding disputes. Every attempt to move forward was met with a new obstacle, a new delay, a new reason why change couldn't happen right now.

It was death by a thousand cuts. And it was working.

Nobles who had been supportive became cautious, unwilling to risk their positions by backing controversial policies. They saw which way the wind was blowing, saw that the Order of Tradition was gaining influence, and they decided to hedge their bets.

Proxies who had been hopeful became discouraged, wondering if anything would ever really change. They'd been promised a better future, had been told that the suffering would end, had dared to believe that things could be different. And now they were watching those promises crumble under the weight of legal technicalities and political maneuvering.

"They're strangling us with bureaucracy," Elara said one evening, throwing a stack of legal documents onto her desk in frustration. "Every time we try to expand the pilot program, they file an injunction. Every time we propose new regulations, they challenge them in court. We're spending all our time fighting legal battles instead of actually helping people."

She looked exhausted. The past six months had taken a toll on her—the constant fighting, the endless setbacks, the growing sense that they were losing ground despite all their efforts.

"That's the strategy," Silas replied, studying the documents. "They can't beat us through force, so they're trying to beat us through attrition. They're betting that we'll get tired, get discouraged, give up."

"Well, it's working. I'm exhausted, Silas. We've been fighting for almost a year, and we've barely made any progress. The pilot program is still limited to a handful of provinces. Most Proxies are still suffering under the old system. And the Order of Tradition is getting stronger every day."

Through the bond, Silas felt her despair, her frustration, her growing sense that they were fighting a losing battle.

He understood. He felt the same way. Every day brought new obstacles, new setbacks, new reasons to believe that change was impossible. It was wearing them both down, grinding away at their determination, making them question whether any of this was worth it.

But giving up wasn't an option. Too many people were depending on them.

"We need to change tactics," he said. "Stop playing defense and start playing offense."

"What do you mean?"

"The Order of Tradition is using the legal system against us. So we use it against them. We investigate their funding, their membership, their activities. We expose their connections to the old Preservation Society. We show the kingdom that they're not defenders of tradition—they're defenders of exploitation."

"That will take time. And resources. And we're already stretched thin."

"Then we get help. Madame Thorne's network, Duke Ravencroft's contacts, General Blackwood's intelligence operatives. We build a coalition and we go after the Order systematically."

Elara was quiet for a moment, considering this. Through the bond, Silas felt her weighing the options, calculating the risks and benefits.

"All right," she said finally. "We go on the offensive. But Silas, we do this carefully. No vigilante justice, no extralegal actions. We use the system against them, but we do it legally."

"Agreed. We're not going to become what we're fighting against."

They spent the next several weeks building their case against the Order of Tradition. It was painstaking work, requiring them to trace financial transactions, document meetings, connect seemingly unrelated events into a coherent pattern.

Madame Thorne's network uncovered financial connections between the Order and several nobles who had been part of the Preservation Society. The money trail was complex, running through multiple shell companies and foreign banks, but it was there. The Order was being funded by the same people who had tried to kill Elara multiple times.

Duke Ravencroft's contacts revealed that the Order was receiving funding from foreign powers who wanted to destabilize the kingdom. Neighboring kingdoms saw Elara's reforms as a threat—if Proxies in Velle gained rights and protections, Proxies in other kingdoms might start demanding the same. Better to crush the reforms before they could spread.

General Blackwood's intelligence operatives documented meetings between Order members and known criminals. They were hiring thugs to intimidate Proxies who had transitioned to the Shared Bond system, to make examples of people who supported the reforms, to create an atmosphere of fear that would discourage others from participating.

The evidence was damning. The Order of Tradition wasn't a grassroots movement defending traditional values—it was a well-funded conspiracy backed by people who had a vested interest in maintaining the status quo.

Elara presented the evidence to the Royal Council in a carefully orchestrated presentation. She had charts, documents, testimonials from witnesses. She showed the money trail, the foreign connections, the criminal activities. She made it impossible to deny that the Order was engaged in illegal activities.

The reaction was immediate. Nobles who had been sympathetic to the Order quickly distanced themselves. Funding dried up. Legal challenges were withdrawn. The Order's leadership was arrested on charges of conspiracy, fraud, and treason.

Within a month, the Order of Tradition was as dead as the Preservation Society before it.

But the victory felt hollow. Because Silas knew that destroying one organization wouldn't end the resistance to reform. There would always be people who benefited from the old system, who would fight to preserve their privileges, who would create new organizations to replace the ones that had been destroyed.

"It's like fighting a hydra," he said to Elara. "Cut off one head, and two more grow back."

"Then we keep cutting," Elara replied. "We keep fighting, keep exposing the conspiracies, keep pushing for reform. Eventually, we'll win."

"Will we? Or will we just keep fighting the same battles over and over again?"

"I don't know. But I know that giving up isn't an option. Too many people are depending on us."

She was right, of course. But Silas was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of the constant threats, tired of the slow pace of change. He wanted to see real progress, wanted to know that their efforts were making a difference, wanted to believe that the kingdom could actually be transformed.

But progress was slow, and the resistance was relentless, and sometimes it felt like they were running in place, expending enormous effort without actually moving forward.

"Silas," Elara said, feeling his despair through the bond. "Don't lose hope. We're making progress, even if it doesn't feel like it. The pilot program is expanding. More Proxies are transitioning to the Shared Bond system. The reforms are working."

"For some people. But most Proxies are still suffering. Most aristocrats are still exploiting them. The system is still fundamentally broken."

"Then we keep fixing it. One piece at a time, one province at a time, one Proxy at a time. We don't have to fix everything at once. We just have to keep moving forward."

Through the bond, Silas felt her determination, her refusal to give up, her absolute conviction that they would eventually succeed.

And he drew strength from that conviction, let it bolster his own flagging spirits, let it remind him why they were fighting in the first place.

"You're right," he said. "We keep fighting. No matter how long it takes, no matter how many organizations we have to dismantle, no matter how tired we get. We keep fighting until the job is done."

"Together," Elara said.

"Together," Silas agreed.

And they did. They kept fighting, kept pushing for reform, kept dismantling the organizations that opposed them. It was exhausting work, frustrating work, sometimes seemingly endless work.

But it was also necessary work. And they were the only ones who could do it.

So they did.

Together.

"They're strangling us with bureaucracy," Elara said one evening, throwing a stack of legal documents onto her desk in frustration. "Every time we try to expand the pilot program, they file an injunction. Every time we propose new regulations, they challenge them in court. We're spending all our time fighting legal battles instead of actually helping people."

"That's the strategy," Silas replied. "They can't beat us through force, so they're trying to beat us through attrition. They're betting that we'll get tired, get discouraged, give up."

"Well, it's working. I'm exhausted, Silas. We've been fighting for almost a year, and we've barely made any progress. The pilot program is still limited to a handful of provinces. Most Proxies are still suffering under the old system. And the Order of Tradition is getting stronger every day."

Through the bond, Silas felt her despair, her frustration, her growing sense that they were fighting a losing battle.

"We need to change tactics," he said. "Stop playing defense and start playing offense."

"What do you mean?"

"The Order of Tradition is using the legal system against us. So we use it against them. We investigate their funding, their membership, their activities. We expose their connections to the old Preservation Society. We show the kingdom that they're not defenders of tradition—they're defenders of exploitation."

"That will take time. And resources. And we're already stretched thin."

"Then we get help. Madame Thorne's network, Duke Ravencroft's contacts, General Blackwood's intelligence operatives. We build a coalition and we go after the Order systematically."

Elara was quiet for a moment, considering this. Through the bond, Silas felt her weighing the options, calculating the risks and benefits.

"All right," she said finally. "We go on the offensive. But Silas, we do this carefully. No vigilante justice, no extralegal actions. We use the system against them, but we do it legally."

"Agreed. We're not going to become what we're fighting against."

They spent the next several weeks building their case against the Order of Tradition. Madame Thorne's network uncovered financial connections between the Order and several nobles who had been part of the Preservation Society. Duke Ravencroft's contacts revealed that the Order was receiving funding from foreign powers who wanted to destabilize the kingdom. General Blackwood's intelligence operatives documented meetings between Order members and known criminals.

The evidence was damning. The Order of Tradition wasn't a grassroots movement defending traditional values—it was a well-funded conspiracy backed by people who had a vested interest in maintaining the status quo.

Elara presented the evidence to the Royal Council, and the reaction was immediate. Nobles who had been sympathetic to the Order quickly distanced themselves. Funding dried up. Legal challenges were withdrawn. The Order's leadership was arrested on charges of conspiracy and treason.

Within a month, the Order of Tradition was as dead as the Preservation Society before it.

But the victory felt hollow. Because Silas knew that destroying one organization wouldn't end the resistance to reform. There would always be people who benefited from the old system, who would fight to preserve their privileges, who would create new organizations to replace the ones that had been destroyed.

"It's like fighting a hydra," he said to Elara. "Cut off one head, and two more grow back."

"Then we keep cutting," Elara replied. "We keep fighting, keep exposing the conspiracies, keep pushing for reform. Eventually, we'll win."

"Will we? Or will we just keep fighting the same battles over and over again?"

"I don't know. But I know that giving up isn't an option. Too many people are depending on us."

She was right, of course. But Silas was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of the constant threats, tired of the slow pace of change. He wanted to see real progress, wanted to know that their efforts were making a difference, wanted to believe that the kingdom could actually be transformed.

But progress was slow, and the resistance was relentless, and sometimes it felt like they were running in place, expending enormous effort without actually moving forward.

"Silas," Elara said, feeling his despair through the bond. "Don't lose hope. We're making progress, even if it doesn't feel like it. The pilot program is expanding. More Proxies are transitioning to the Shared Bond system. The reforms are working."

"For some people. But most Proxies are still suffering. Most aristocrats are still exploiting them. The system is still fundamentally broken."

"Then we keep fixing it. One piece at a time, one province at a time, one Proxy at a time. We don't have to fix everything at once. We just have to keep moving forward."

Through the bond, Silas felt her determination, her refusal to give up, her absolute conviction that they would eventually succeed.

And he drew strength from that conviction, let it bolster his own flagging spirits, let it remind him why they were fighting in the first place.

"You're right," he said. "We keep fighting. No matter how long it takes, no matter how many organizations we have to dismantle, no matter how tired we get. We keep fighting until the job is done."

"Together," Elara said.

"Together," Silas agreed.

And they did. They kept fighting, kept pushing for reform, kept dismantling the organizations that opposed them. It was exhausting work, frustrating work, sometimes seemingly endless work.

But it was also necessary work. And they were the only ones who could do it.

So they did.

Together.

End of Chapter 24