Ignasi Alfonso Avernus Narikopolus de Kantaria is, almost immediately following the Four Day War, the only archduke from the old regime who remains standing under the new. This is really not very impressive - Hellcoast and Ravounel had no proper hereditary archdukes in the first place, and the Heartlands were held by the Thrunes, so it's really only House Charthagnion and House Henderthane that House Narikopolus has managed to outlast. The Henderthanes were already a shell, in the final days of Thrune rule, the competent members of the house having been removed only a few years before. There was only a terrified coward in the archduke's seat, and he left with no protest. House Charthagnion was worse than anyone, maybe worse than the Thrunes themselves, and almost no members remain (besides the children, who the new Queen has unaccountably decided to spare). It's said that they had a deal with Hell that damned all of their descendants in perpetuity. So it's no great accomplishment, really, to have passed such a low bar.
Even so, Archduke Narikopolus is very invested in continuing to pass it.
When the Archmage Naima comes to Kantaria to heal the populace, the archduke is prepared to meet her. The archmage is notorious for only taking audiences publicly in rooms full of a thousand sick people, but so be it. The only room large enough for her purposes is the old Asmodean temple, which her staff have already temporarily taken over. They hang a dragonfly and lotus banner over the remnants of the broken stained glass window, which still shows the edges of a star.
Kantaria, he explains, has always privately preferred Iomedae to Asmodeus. Everyone knows the goddess guides swords truer than the Prince of Lies. Now, they can worship her openly, and can give her the place in the city she deserves. He shows her his plans to replace it with a cathedral for Iomedae - one worthy of the province of her birth.
"A cathedral for who?" asks the archmage.
It is loud in the room, given all the crying babies, so it is in fact difficult to hear. He tries not to be violently annoyed about it. "For Iomedae."
"No, I mean - the entire county of Kantaria cannot have more than fifty thousand souls. The settlement is more fortress than town. It doesn't need such a massive building. Besides, you already have this temple. It would serve the Inheritor well enough. You ought to widen the windows to let in more light, and of course what's left of the stained glass must be replaced, but the layout is sound, and the stone is good."
The archduke balks. "Here? This place will always be a symbol of Hell. Do you know what they did here?"
"Blood sacrifices and torture, I imagine," shrugs the archmage. "But it serves my purposes well enough, and will serve Hers, too. Some stone is evil, but not this stone. It's only soaked in blood, not made from it. More forced labor to build another in white does nothing to erase what happened here." She looks at the plans again. "Your design is beautiful, though. I'm sorry."
He'd not expected effusive praise, but he had hoped, of course, for approval. "The people need to know that their rule has been transformed. No mere coat of paint over the old will be enough for that."
"I agree. But a new cathedral is a coat of paint, in the end. If you want my advice, take the money you set aside for this project, and offer it to the church in Lastwall. Ask them for paladins and Iomedan staff to help the men of Menador - to counsel its people, and to counsel its nobility. I know religion has never been a particular interest of yours, Archduke, and it's done you good so far. But if you mean to pay off the goddess - and the queen - for your conduct under the Thrunes, you should set yourself to seeing that your people do not suffer, and grow virtuous once more. Iomedae is a practical goddess, and approaches that end as you approach the defense of your march. She cares about results, not aesthetics."
That stings badly, truth be told. But so be it. House Narikopolus has not ruled Menador for nine hundred years by making enemies unnecessarily, nor by concerning itself with insults more than wounds.