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Tiara- Part One

Page 23

by Robin Roseau


  “Told me he was sending me to resolve one problem, but do you think he gave me that much power to solve one relatively minor problem?”

  “I don’t know.” That was also a whisper. “Your Highness, I don’t know.”

  “I imagine that’s very uncomfortable.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Wait,” I replied.

  “And if they don’t make your deadline?”

  “Then I leave,” I said. “We all leave. I’m not bluffing.”

  “I believe you.”

  “That’s not what’s going to happen, however.”

  “It might.”

  “True. Except you’re going to go back tomorrow and tell them the embassy is packing. And they’ll come back with some poor compromise that’s still a worse agreement than we had a year ago, and we’ll continue to pack.” I raised my voice. “Ms. Pelonden, please come in.”

  There was only a brief pause, and then the doors opened. Renishta stood framed in the doorway, and I could see Terla and Selzen behind her. “Your Highness?”

  “We’re shutting the embassy down. Spread the word that Gandeet is uninterested in continued trade with Flarvor. I want a plan for how soon we can leave this fine country?”

  At that, Ms. Blendost stepped past her. “Your Highness…”

  “I am sorry this has been such a short posting for you, Ms. Blendost,” I said. “Please assist Ms. Pelonden. You as well, Ms. Sarlenda.”

  I received three curtsies, and then the door closed again.

  * * * *

  Half the staff checked to see whether I was serious. Well, that’s probably hyperbolic. It was really only half the department heads as well as Ms. Sessen. She stood in my office, looking at me as I sat behind my desk. Finally, I smiled. “What do you know about citrus, Ms. Sessen?”

  “Quite a lot, actually.”

  “I rather thought you might,” I said. “What do you know about maps?”

  “Quite a lot, I suppose. What would you like to know?”

  “Can you acquire maps?”

  “Of course. Of Gandeet?”

  “No. I want large maps of Flarvor and Ressaline, or at least covering as much of Charthan as you can acquire. How long will that take?”

  “Not long, Your Highness.”

  “And I want a board,” I said. “On a stand or something. We’re going to mount the maps standing up. We’ll be drawing on them, Ms. Sessen. If we need to trace existing maps, we can do that.”

  “Now, Your Highness?”

  “As fast as you can.”

  “Within the hour, Your Highness.”

  “Excellent.”

  It was ten minutes later that Mr. Redhouse returned. “You have come to your senses, Your Highness?”

  “I wasn’t aware I had lost them,” I replied. “I am sorry I do not have your faith, but I don’t imagine I need it, so long as you do your job. How go preparations? When will we be able to depart Dennaholst?”

  He stared at me, not answering. “A week or two.”

  “Explain why we can’t be gone in three days.”

  “Your Highness!” he said.

  “That’s no explanation,” I replied. “I honestly don’t know. We pack our things. We hire overpriced transportation to get everything to Flarvor. Inside our border, we offload everything, kick the Gandeetians from our country, and hire more reasonable firms. You have the entire embassy staff to help you, minus Ms. Sessen.”

  “And Mr. Gleece, who is making a standing map board for you.”

  “I don’t need anything fancy, so I do hope he is doing something he can assemble quickly.”

  “Ms. Sessen gave him an hour.”

  “And then you will have his services returned,” I replied. “I have not heard an explanation.”

  “Do you know how valuable some of these furnishings are? And many of the staff have been here for years. Should they pack hurriedly, possibly at their expense? You have caught us entirely unprepared, and we never considered we would be required to depart on such notice. Perhaps you would have us leave everything behind.”

  “I see,” I said. “A week or two?”

  “A month would be better.”

  “I expect proper progress, but take proper care,” I replied. “You know your job, Mr. Redhouse, and clearly I don’t.” He offered a little bow, which I appreciated. “You didn’t come here for this conversation.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re back to that?”

  “We’re leaving, but now you want a map board? Why?”

  “I would think that was obvious. I wish to mount a map and use it to plan.”

  “Our route home?”

  “Not at all. We have citrus to sell, and perhaps other things. I will have to ask Mr. Epseen to produce a list. Lady Olivia is so going to enjoy the prices we offer. Will there be anything else, Mr. Redhouse?”

  “No, Your Highness.”

  Ms. Sessen was efficient. It took her the hour, and perhaps slightly more, but then there was a knock. She came in, Mr. Gleece behind her, two of Sergeant Felist’s guards helping with the large map board. I came around my desk and pointed. Mr. Gleece oversaw setting up the board, and then Ms. Sessen stepped forward and tacked two maps two it, one north of the other. Mr. Gleece had to help with the higher tacks. I looked at it. “Mr. Gleece, I may require a small step stool.”

  “I’ll bring one right up, Your Highness,” he said. “It’s not fancy, Your Highness.”

  “I see that,” I said. “But it is absolutely what I needed. Thank you.”

  He offered an unnecessary bow. I turned to Ms. Sessen. “Here’s what I want to do.” I explained then said, “Find my aides, then the four of you will help me.”

  Map Diplomacy

  It was the next day when one of the Royal Guard knocked at the open door. “Princess Darfelsa, Ms. Leyviel is here.”

  I looked over. “Show her in.” And then I returned my gaze. Ms. Sessen was taking her turn on the step stool, setting a pin. “Good,” I said. “What color were we using?”

  “White,” Ms. Blendost said. She handed up a white marker to hang from the pin.

  Ms. Leyviel stepped in then came to a stop. She offered an unnecessary curtsey, but it was cute. I turned and stepped over to her, acutely aware of how I was dressed. “Your Highness,” she said. “I barely recognized you.”

  “This is how I typically dressed in Charth,” I said, giving a turn. “Lady Ambassador Cuprite informed me the day I arrived that I was simply another member of her staff.” I took her arm. “Come look what we’ve been doing.”

  I pulled her to the map and gestured. “What do you think?” She cocked her head. I watched her, waiting.

  “It’s very… artistic.”

  “Sycophant,” I said.

  “Your Highness,” she stammered.

  “You don’t have a clue what we’re doing, do you?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Well then,” I said. “You shall have a tour.” I stepped away, then nearly ran around my desk. I grabbed my chair, and rolled it around, bumping it into the back of her knees. She sat, and then I rolled her into position. “Climb down, Ms. Sessen,” I said. “Who has my pointer?” I accepted the pointer from Ms. Sarlenda. I gestured. “This is Flarvor.” I crudely drew the outline. “Gandeet is over here. Barrish is here. Up here is Ressaline. This isn’t all of Ressaline, of course. We actually used an old map of Charthan. There is Charth.” I gestured. “And we crudely indicated where Ressaline City is, but of course, it is well off this particular pair of maps.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Your Highness.”

  “You perhaps understand what a map is?”

  “Of course. But what are all those pins?”

  “Ah. These here represent our citrus groves in southwestern Flarvor. And we used yarn to represent the trade routes for our citrus.” I gestured.

  “What are the black strands?”

  “They repres
ent former trading routes,” I said. I gestured. “These are the new routes.” And I traced the yellow yarn through Flarvor, through Tebradine, and into Ressaline. “Of course, Lady Olivia will have her own ideas of distribution, but we believe the good people of Ressaline City would appreciate more citrus, don’t you think?”

  I didn’t pause. “Of course, they have been slow to offer return trade beyond silver and tin.” I gestured. “Their mines are here. Well, some of them. More of them are off the page, and we’re not really quite sure where all of them are. But they’ve begun to increase the amount of winter wheat they produce. We placed those pins somewhat haphazardly, but you can see how the wheat can travel south.”

  I showed her everything we had done then said, “Of course, Ressaline won’t take everything we have historically traded to the east, but we have other neighbors.” I handed back the pointer and turned to Ms. Leyviel. “Oh, dear. You have turned a rather unexpected color.” I hurried to her, and Renishta was holding a cup of water. I helped Talith drink and then pulled another chair in front of her, sitting down and taking her hands.

  It took a moment for her to focus on me, but then her eyes drifted back to the map. “Talith,” I said gently. “What’s wrong?”

  She pointed to the map. “You’re serious.”

  “Of course, I’m serious,” I said. “If Gandeet is uninterested in continued trade, well, that’s to the advantage of our other trading partners. But after a decade of increasingly poor trading agreements, I think this actually will work out better for our citizens.” I stood up and walked to the map, taking up the pointer. “This is the real challenge.” I pointed to where we had inaccurately added Ressaline City. “It’s not here. I think I said that. It’s deeper in their mountains. I’ve never been, but I understand travel is very difficult. There are challenges with my plan, but I bet I can find a few Flarvorian traders who would help me overcome those challenges. If we can deliver fresh citrus here, wouldn’t that be grand, but even if it must be preserved, I imagine the women of Ressaline City would pay a premium.”

  I smiled and handed the pointer back to Ms. Blendost. “I’ll probably have to finally accept an invitation to visit, so I can see for myself.” I stepped over and sat back down in front of her and took up her hands. “But you didn’t come here to learn about new trading routes for my country. Are you on an errand for your mother?”

  “No,” she said, somewhat woodenly. “Minister Silmarion asked me…” She trailed off. I waited, smiling. Slowly, her gaze shifted back to me. “Um.”

  “Just say it, Talith,” I said. “I won’t be offended with you. Him, perhaps, but not you.”

  “He requests you return to the capitol to discuss the… misunderstanding.”

  “We were all speaking the same language,” I said. “He told me there was nothing he could do. That was quite clear, and I don’t believe there was any misunderstanding.” I changed my tone. “There has been no misunderstanding. I understood your minister quite clearly.”

  “Princess Darfelsa,” she said. “Please.”

  “I’m far too busy to waste my time with trips to him. If he wishes to speak to me, he may come here.” I offered another smile. “Ms. Leyviel, you may think I’m bluffing. I imagine he does. I find it unlikely he has even considered that I am serious.” I let the smile fade. “I am dead serious. Tell him that. And tell him until we have vacated Gandeet, this embassy is Flarvorian ground, and I hold absolute authority on these grounds. He is unwelcome unless you are present.”

  “Please don’t make me tell him that,” she said, barely a whisper.

  “I will leave it to you,” I said after a moment. “But if he arrives without you, he won’t get past the foyer.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I actually believe you might be a fair woman. You have your own biases; we all do, after all. And I’m not so foolish as to believe you’re on my side. Your first loyalty needs to be to your own country, after all. But I believe you’re the closest I’m going to get to a fair observer.” Then I smiled again and patted her hand beside. “And I like you.”

  She looked down at my hand, now resting on hers. I thought she’d pull away. She didn’t. She only stared for a moment. Then, I slowly pulled my hand away. She looked up at me, and I could read the uncertainty in her eyes.

  “I wasn’t trying to imply anything,” I said. I paused. “That’s probably not entirely true. I was trying to imply I am kindly disposed towards you. It feels like, if your government should choose to rethink the relationship between our countries, and my father doesn’t recall me, that we could be personal friends.” I patted her hand again, but only briefly. “I have spent three years in Charth. Casual affection is the norm. Not-so-casual affection is also the norm, but that is not what I am implying.”

  I could read the uncertainty, and so I climbed from the chair and returned it to its normal position. “Perhaps I misread the situation. I would still prefer you be present at any meetings.”

  She stood. I had partially turned away, but she moved to stand in front of me. “You’re a princess, and I’m a nobody.”

  “We’re two relatively young women,” I replied. “We have far more in common than our differences. The commonalities make friendship possible; the differences make friendship interesting. I’m not looking for a lover in this country. I’ve done that, and it didn’t go well. I am only offering friendship, but I’ll leave the next move to you. Think about it, but I won’t be offended if you prefer a professional relationship only. I wouldn’t mention this portion of the conversation with the minister.”

  “No,” she agreed. She walked over and looked at the map. Then she turned to me. “Would Minister Silmarion be wasting his time to come here?”

  “If he thinks he can bully a poor agreement from me, he is,” I said. “I would consider an agreement that I consider fair to both sides. We can negotiate details.”

  “Do you want me to tell him about this?” She gestured to the map.

  “Tell him whatever you want,” I replied. “I’m not sure I particularly care. Frankly, I don’t think he’s emotionally capable of negotiating a fair agreement.”

  “I can’t comment on that,” she replied. “You’re a very confusing woman.”

  “I’ve tried to speak plainly.”

  “It’s not your words that are confusing. You’re…” She trailed off then made a gesture to me. “Confusing.”

  I laughed. “I am fairly sure your confusion is the confusing part.”

  “You’re a princess, but look at you.”

  “You think perhaps I wear a gown all day long, and you’re wondering where my tiara is.”

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  “Perhaps you should stop thinking of me as a princess and think of me as Darfelsa. I’m just a woman, and princess is just a title like any other.”

  “Not like any other.”

  “Well,” I said. “I'm not sure what to tell you.”

  “I’ll think about what you said.” She paused. “I should go.” She turned for the door, got partway there, then turned back. “Am I supposed to curtsey or something?”

  “I wish everyone would stop worrying about that. I’m satisfied if treated with reasonable respect. You’re doing just fine, Ms. Leyviel.”

  She nodded. “I can’t tell what you mean by half of what you’ve said.”

  I sighed. “You’re wondering if my words are empty, or if there are hidden messages?”

  “I guess.”

  “Perhaps take my words as honest,” I said.

  She paused. “So, you actually want me to come back.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “As a friend.”

  “Yes, Talith. But it’s going to be awkward if you can’t stop thinking about gowns and tiaras.”

  “I’ll think about it,” she said. She turned for the door. Ms. Pelonden was there, holding it for her, and I saw two of the guards ready to escort her from the embassy. But she came to a stop, looking o
ver her shoulder at me. Then she turned to fully face me. “There’s a comedy club. I’m meeting friends, tomorrow night. Would you like to join us?”

  “I would,” I said. “However, this is a point I need to put that tiara back on.”

  “You don’t like comedy clubs?”

  “It’s not that. It’s a security issue. There are reasons why the royal family keeps private boxes at the theaters in Flarvor.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”

  “That hasn’t been an issue in Charth, but I think I need to follow the same security I’d follow in Flarvor.”

  “You have to have guards when you’re home?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Perhaps arrangements could be made,” Sergeant Felist said, stepping forward. “What is the name of this club?”

  “The Laugh House,” Talith said.

  “I’ll make inquiries,” said the sergeant. She turned to me. “I should be able to have a final answer by morning.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant. Am I invited if it is complicated, Talith?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will let you know if Sergeant Felist makes arrangements.”

  She smiled. “Good. If not, we’ll find other choices.”

  “I’d like that.”

  She stepped to me and took my hands, both of us smiling. “I’m conflicted,” she admitted.

  “Oh?”

  “Loyalty to my country versus enjoying watching this.”

  “Ah,” I said. “I understand. It’s quite uncomfortable from this side, but I do understand.”

  She looked down at our hands. “This doesn’t offend you?”

  “No.”

  “It feels exceedingly forward.” But she lifted her eyes. She squeezed my hands. “If you can’t go to the club with us, maybe we could do something the following evening.”

  “Plan on it.”

  “Perhaps dinner with Mother?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well then.” She squeezed for a moment, and this time when she turned, she didn’t stop.

  I stared after her, even once the door was closed. Everyone else was watching me. Sergeant Felist stepped to my shoulder. “Do you want me to find an excuse why you can’t attend the club?”

 

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