by Robin Roseau
“If you can make it work, I’d enjoy it,” I said. “But I won’t pressure you if you’re uncomfortable.”
“You’ve made enemies, Darfelsa.”
“I’m aware. Your judgment, Mariya.”
“It’s unlikely you’ll be going to this club.”
“I know. It’s fine.”
“All right. I better get on that, though. They may be accustomed. You’re staying in until I get back.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Do I need to worry the minister will show up this afternoon?”
I laughed. “What do you think the chances are?”
She didn’t answer, but I decided her willingness to leave my side was an answer.
* * * *
It was some hours later that Sergeant Felist told me simply, “No. Absolutely not. Even if you hadn’t made enemies, I wouldn’t let you go.”
“All right, then,” I said.
“So I found a different club.”
I laughed. “Seriously?”
“Yes. It’s around the corner.” She paused. “However…”
“Oh, I think I like that however.”
“I think it maybe be somewhat risqué.”
“What is it called.”
“Bashful. It’s around the corner from The Laugh House. They’re accustomed to offering some level of privacy. There’s a main floor, and it is ringed with boxes where the second floor would be. Two of them are fairly large. However…”
“Two ‘howevers’ in one conversation. Yes?”
“The two largest boxes are accessible from the main stage.”
“I suppose that is a security concern.”
“Not particularly. But I believe it offers an opportunity for the actors to involve the members of the box.”
I laughed. “Did you see a show? I don’t want to attend somewhere with an ill reputation.”
“I didn’t. I could ask around town.”
“No,” I said. “Thank you, Sergeant. How much warning do they need?”
“Very little, but then you are subject to availability. The boxes were scheduled half full tonight but full on Saturday.”
“Thank you,” I repeated.
I sent a message to Talith via her mother’s home.
* * * *
It was the next afternoon that there was a commotion outside my office. At first, I thought it was related to the moving preparations, but then there was a knock, and the door opened. All of us turned to see a member of the royal guard. “Princess Darfelsa, Minister Silmarion demands an audience.”
“Demands?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Is Ms. Leyviel with him?”
“Yes, and several other gentlemen.”
“Do any have obvious weapons?” Sergeant Felist asked.
“No.”
“Demands,” I echoed. I sighed. “Sergeant, I suppose we should see him. Please see to it.”
She nodded. She stepped to the door, and I wasn’t that surprised when my office filled with my entire honor guard, escorting the minister’s party. They took up places around the room. Minister Silmarion marched in like he owned my office, said nothing to me, but stomped over to the map board.
“You do not make demands in this embassy,” I stated.
He ignored me, which was annoying, but I wasn’t going to be baited that easily. But he stared at the map before turning to me. “The women of Ressaline are animals.”
“You should go into diplomacy,” I said. “You’ll start a war faster than I would.”
He gestured to the map. “You’re bluffing. They don’t have anything to trade.”
“Oh?” I said. “I’ve been posted there for three years. I don’t recall seeing you there, Minister Silmarion. This isn’t short-term planning. We might have to extend them credit for a year or two. But they have a lot of land, Minister. Did you know our countries enjoy trade with no tariffs?”
“You’re lying.”
I shook my head but stepped to my desk, collecting a clipboard with a few papers. I stepped back to his side and handed it to him. “These numbers are preliminary. On the left are my best calculations for trade with Gandeet. On the right, for trade with Ressaline.” I pointed. “This is cost of the goods from the source. That is a poor price for the orchards. They actually sell for higher amounts within Flarvor, but they grow more than we can eat.” I traced it through. “As you can see, the Gandeetian government makes greater profit than everyone else combined.” I gestured to the other side. “I used the same cost of goods for sales to Ressaline. Transportation to Charth is approximately as difficult as transportation here, but without the tariffs and without the bottleneck at the border. That saves as much as two days of travel, and as long as a week at some points. I divided it into two at that point, the numbers if we deliver to Charth, and the second if we deliver further.” I gestured. “This is an unknown. There are difficulties in transporting to Ressaline City.” I pointed to the last number. “Oh, look. There’s all this excess. It’s a significant figure, Minister. If we divide that out, we can pay the orchards a third more. Everyone involved makes more.”
His lips tightened. “You’re lying.”
I took the papers from him and set it back on my desk. I said nothing for a moment, then I didn’t turn back to him right away. “My father has certain attitudes regarding bureaucracy.” That was when I turned. “He calls it a necessary evil that should be kept as small as possible. Some level of bureaucracy is necessary. As an example, for the good of all, each of our countries must maintain roads, and we keep a military.” I gestured. “I have a significant honor guard. We do not consider this bureaucracy, but the bureaucrats are the ones who see to it these people are paid, they’re clothed and fed. They have roofs over their heads when in our service. The Ministry of Transportation requires significant supplies, and tools, and what not. Bureaucrats handle that. Bureaucrats manage schedules for the courts, and other bureaucrats collect taxes and other fees. Still others inspect construction works, ensuring they are built properly. Some level of bureaucracy is required simply to get anything done, and some is required to counteract human greed. After all, without inspections, some people would cut corners that shouldn’t be cut.”
“Do you think I need this lecture, Princess?”
“Not so far,” I said. “But there is a significant difference between our countries. We have enough bureaucracy to see to it our system works. Your system is bureaucracy. You have people who collect fees for everything, and your fee structure is complicated besides, charging one fee for this person, another fee for someone else, and a third fee for us. Your bureaucracy exists not to ensure people are paid, and supplies reach where they are needed, but it exists simply to feed itself.” I stepped closer. “You told me I lived under a horrible system, but my family exists to make life better for the people of Flarvor, and your bureaucracy exists to make life better for the bureaucrats. While Father hasn’t said this to me, if he got a good look at your government, he would call your bureaucracy a leech upon society.”
“You can’t talk to me like that!” he yelled.
“You’ve twice accused me of lying,” I said. “You’ve told me I grew up under a horrible system. You have insulted me as a woman. You have insulted me as Father’s representative. I’ve lost track of the other insults. So excuse me if I’m tired of your attempts to bully me!”
No one said a word. The minister breathed heavily for a minute. Finally, I smiled, and when I spoke, my words were gently said. “You came for a reason. Perhaps it wasn’t to exchange insults. Perhaps you wished to see for yourself if Ms. Leyviel accurately explained the situation here. Perhaps you actually wish to make an enticing offer in hopes of retaining our embassy here, and continued trade.” I gestured to the trade map. “Perhaps you would rather our citrus continue to follow the old routes.”
“We don’t need your thrice-damned food.”
“Well then,” I said. “Ressaline City will enjoy it
, I’m sure. Good day, Minister.” He stood there, glaring at me. I waited, then set a hand on my hip. “I don’t know what you want. You seem to be happy to bully me right out of your country. I’m sorry we can’t move faster. Mr. Redhouse has explained the difficulty in packing decades of art, furnishings, and other possessions.”
“You’re a foolish woman!”
“I imagine you’re right,” I said.
He stomped away, closer to the map. He stared at it for a while. “They don’t have a thing to trade.”
“Then I’m sure Father will send someone back, someone far less foolish than me,” I replied. “I’m sure you’re right. They’re far too stupid to learn how to plant winter wheat. Sheep are especially difficult to raise and shear.”
“They don’t have any of the luxury goods we sell you.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “They don’t. So?”
He turned to me. “What do you mean, ‘so’?”
“So?” I repeated. “Luxury goods. Do you think our people will rebel if I terminate bad trade agreements and replace them with ones that leave far more money in their hands? And you don’t need our citrus. You have fine apple orchards. It might take a couple of decades to expand them, but I don’t imagine you personally will suffer from scurvy in the meantime, even if the common folk on the street do.”
He began panting again. I returned to my desk and grabbed the clipboard. “Perhaps one of your assistants can explain what’s wrong with my math,” I said. “If anything, I’ve been conservative. I imagine there are expenses here I don’t know about.”
“They don’t have anything to trade you!”
“You keep saying that,” I said. “In between calling me a liar and a foolish woman. Do you know who our ambassador to Ressaline is?”
“Some woman.”
“Some woman,” I echoed. “Yes. She’s some woman, all right. Her name is Allium Cuprite. Did you know that?”
“Why should I care about your ambassador in Ressaline?”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t. She’s not a career diplomat. Prior to her posting as our ambassador, she worked for the Ministry of Transportation. When the previous minister retired, her name was on the top of the list for his replacement.”
“You’re lying.”
“Instead, Father sent her to Ressaline. At the same time, Mother befriended her, and I know for a fact she holds Allium in high regard. My sister and I do, as well. The Ressalines deeply admire her. She’s solved a variety of problems, some for both countries, but Lady Olivia requests Allium’s help quite frequently. She’s very, very good at solving problems. She’s especially good at solving problems involving transportation.”
I gestured towards the map. “Moving goods to Charth is no trouble. The Ressalines keep the roads in good repair, quite good, actually. But Ressaline City represents challenges. I haven’t been; neither has Ambassador Cuprite. But I’m going to love watching her solve that. She’s going to rub her hands in glee and tell me, ‘I haven’t had this good a challenge in years’.”
“They don’t have anything to trade!” he bellowed.
“They have silver and tin,” I said. “They have timber. They have land, upon which they can grow winter wheat and raise hardy sheep.” I smiled. “And they have slave labor, making it quite economically attractive.”
“And disgusting.”
I waved a hand dismissively. “Lady Olivia is brilliant. Allium Cuprite is brilliant. They’re going to love solving this. When I offer Queen Lisdee cartloads and cartloads of citrus at good prices, she’ll tell Olivia, ‘Make it happen, whatever it takes’, and you know it, Minister. Maybe we’ll get more land leases, giving more of our own people opportunity. Were you aware of that agreement, Minister?”
I folded my arms. “Maybe I’m bluffing. Maybe I’m simply an idiot. But if you have a fair offer, I’m here, and I’m willing to listen, in spite of your insults.”
He turned away and walked back to his people. He yanked the clipboard away from one of them and studied the numbers. I rather thought he might be better at that part of all of this than I was. He spoke quietly with his staff.
He turned back. “This falls apart if they can’t pay for the goods you want to sell them?”
“Not at all. This is my first plan. We have other neighbors. I just don’t know them very well, so I don’t know how interested they may be in our goods. This may turn more complicated, with wool and some of our goods going to Tellen, linen to Yard. Yard may also like wheat, but I can’t imagine they’re interested in wool. I understand they consider lamb a rare delicacy, however. I don’t know what the difficulties would be transporting it.”
“Where is this lamb coming from?”
“Western Charthan,” I replied. “Lamb may be difficult to move that far. I don’t know much about it.”
He stared at me for a minute, a full minute, then said, “It was quite difficult for me to arrange, but we will license Flarvorian transportation companies at favorable terms.”
“So you could do something after all,” I said. “What terms?”
He snapped his fingers. It was Ms. Leyviel who produced several sheets of paper. She didn’t meet my gaze as she handed them to me. I moved behind my desk, sat down, and read through them. “Ms. Blendost, do you have the terms used when licensing local carriers?”
“Yes, Princess Darfelsa,” she replied. She retrieved them from a folder on my own desk and laid them out. It took me seconds to see the numerous differences.
I sighed and looked up. “This isn’t even the start of negotiations.” I handed the Gandeetian papers to Ms. Blendost. “Return this, please. Come back when you have a real offer.”
“That is a real offer.”
“Let me put it this way. I am uninterested in uneven terms, any uneven terms. Furthermore, I have been reviewing a decade of agreements, and even if we were to come to agreement on this single issue, I will be vacating the majority of those countless other agreements.”
“You can’t do that!”
“I couldn’t have, if you hadn’t chosen to continually change terms with us. In effect, Minister, you summoned me to your country. And now I can negotiate any damned thing I please. You have abused my country for at least a decade and gotten away with it. Well, in your greed, you did it one too many times, and Father sent me with far more authority than a silly young woman should have.” I rubbed my hands together. “I find power rather delightful. I intend to use that power to protect my country. Get out of my embassy.” The last words were said coldly. “Come back when you have an agreement you’d consider if our places were reversed.”
“That’s a fair agreement!”
“You truly do like to bluster,” I said. “I am entirely unimpressed. It’s not a fair agreement. It is quite egregious. But let me be clear on one more point. We will be treating your companies identically to how you treat ours. That will most definitely be part of the final understanding. And you should know we will be using the funds we collect from your companies to repay ours. I have no need to feed our bureaucracy, Minister. I hope to find a way to avoid bloating it, just so that we may deal with yours. Get out of my embassy. Sergeant Felist, please escort these fine people from Flarvorian land.”
* * * *
“How egregious was it?” Ms. Sarlenda asked.
“Impossible,” I replied. “They demanded to not only license each company at crushing rates, but also the wagons, and they set standards on them no one would ever even attempt to meet. It was beyond ridiculous. I don’t know what game he’s playing.” I sighed. “I should have kept the papers.”
“Why?”
“So we could publish them.”
“What’s this?” I turned, and Ms. Pelonden held a light grey envelope.
“Where was that?”
“Here,” she said. “On this table. I’m not sure what I am to do with it, Princess.”
“I didn’t put it there. Perhaps one of our guests.” I held out my hand. She walke
d over and gave it to me. It was sealed, but there was no indication what it was. “Do you think we need to worry about poison?”
“Give me that,” said one of the guards. She stepped over and took it from me before I could object, then grabbed a letter opener and stepped across the room.
“You’re just as valuable as I am!” I protested.
“No one here believes that,” she replied. “Permission to open this, Your Highness.”
“Give it back.”
“You have choices,” said the guard. “You can give me permission to open this, or we can wait to see what Sergeant Felist says. We both know she’ll open it herself. Your Highness, will you override your guards regarding your security? You promised us that you wouldn’t.”
I sighed. “Please be careful.”
“I consider that permission,” she said. She set the envelope down on the table and gingerly broke the seal. Just as carefully, she opened the flap then used the point of the letter opener to drag out the contents. “It’s a note,” she said. “Addressed to you from Ms. Leyviel.”
“Did you read it?”
“Only the top and bottom,” she said. She examined it carefully. “I cannot judge the hand. I do not want you touching it. I have heard it is possible to embed poison in ink.”
“Poison?” asked Sergeant Felist from the doorway. The guard explained, and the Sergeant stepped over to examine the note. Finally, she turned to me. “You may approach, hands behind your back. Do I need to tie them?”
“Seriously, Sergeant?” I asked.
“You will not touch the paper, and we’re burning it after you’ve read it.” She paused. “We won’t be doing it in here, either.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“We have no way of knowing the provenance of this note,” she replied. “And Minister Silmarion is stupid enough to want you dead.”
“Fine. Just.” I huffed. “Fine.” I stood and walked over, pointedly moving my hands behind my back. The guard used my letter opener to hold the note open. I read it.
Darfelsa,
I talked to Mother. She is terribly amused and begs to visit Bashful with us. She warned me it is quite scandalous, and she hasn’t been in years. She suggests an all-women party but warns me of something called audience participation, whatever that implies.