"And we need time to talk, he's been dead for a week now and the Palace has just... stopped."
"As is proper."
"The kingdom cannot be left unattended mother, even for a day. The people..." He said drawing out the last word, "will be mourning for only so long. They expect you to reassure them that all will be well under your reign. Otherwise they will talk, even..."
"Talk. Let them talk." She scoffed.
"Talk. Compare you, to him. Our enemies are not waiting for us to finish mourning, they are searching for weaknesses. Those men arrested for making speeches about your illegitimacy are but the first."
The Queen's face contorted as she erupted in anger. "And they are being dealt with!" she screamed.
Citalley had expected the outburst, his mother could switch between cold nonchalance and fiery anger in a heartbeat.
"Illegitimate, how dare they. We had been married for almost thirty-five summers."
"We must resume Council mother, taxes from the East are late and I don't believe the collector's letter sent ahead about their unexpected delays. We are being tested."
"Who gave the letter to you? Why was I not informed?"
"The Council have started giving me all the letters, few that there are. Fadius told me you have been refusing their communications for days."
"I won't be rushed Citalley, I need time to... do what is right for the kingdom."
"What does that mean? We must resume governance. I will call the Councillors to meet us tonight."
"You will do nothing of the kind."
Citalley looked at his mother with exasperation. "Why?"
"Because."
"Because? What kind of answer is that?"
"I have had enough of you Citalley, you have no respect. I am your mother and the Queen now. The sooner..."
"I know you are Queen." He interrupted, "and if you want to stay Queen, we must start ruling again."
She looked up then, the anger in her eyes noticeably calmed as they flicked to stare directly at her son. "Yes. And we will." She replied coldly.
"Then let us talk to the Council, tell them nothing changes, you are in charge and the work must go on."
"Those old men are worthless, far too sure of themselves."
"Father chose each of them personally."
"Perhaps I will choose others."
"Mother! We don't have time for this, we need everyone to resume their duty and accept your word as sovereign. Then you can make changes to the Council. Slowly. We need consistency and unity. Each one of those old men has an important hand in that."
"They have always resisted my influence over your father."
"You never involved yourself in politics, only the court."
"He never listened anyway, they certainly wouldn't have."
"They work for you now."
"Yes, they do."
"So, you will meet them?"
"I want to talk to Nathalian first."
"Nathalian? Why?"
"He has been a great help to me while your father was sick."
"He’s not qualified to help on any matters of state, he's a political refugee."
"Nathalian is a gifted man, he agrees with many of my ideas..."
"And? Why must you talk to him before you meet the Council."
"We have been discussing some changes."
"What changes?" Citalley said, deciding to humour his mother this time rather than fight.
"Well the grain for one, we give too much to Carrid."
"They pay a fair price."
"And the prices in our own markets go up. If we give less to Carrid, the people will pay less for bread."
"So, you will buy their loyalty at the expense of our relationship with the Republic?"
"I hardly think they will notice."
"Everyone, especially Carrid is watching us now. If your first act as head of state is to the Assembly’s detriment, they will not only notice, but perhaps act against us. Withdraw their protection. We need the alliance.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic Citalley, our friendship is solid.”
“Apparently not. What about the lost revenue?"
"We have been too generous to the Naru living in our Eastern provinces. Subsidies, sponsoring their institutions, garrisoning far more troops there than anywhere else and overlooking a great deal of misconduct, to put it kindly. Your father bought loyalty too, only he paid the wrong people. It's time to prioritize Drorean interests. Real Droreans."
Citalley was shocked at his mother’s words. "So, you want to cut ties with Carrid who have protected us for the last eighty cycles from Narubez, while at the same time destroying the good will father had worked hard to earn with the Naru living here too. You want to anger the Assembly and Galtus? Maybe it’s a good thing we haven't called Council yet, this is..."
"You overreact.” She almost shouted. “No one is cutting ties, but we must start to look to ourselves. Carrid take much and give little in return. The Emperor has no designs on Drorea either. Their people here are unruly and ungrateful. If they can't survive and prosper within the wider community after all this time, then they can cross the river and go back home."
"You're going to ruin it."
"Don't you dare speak to me like that..."
"We both know father wasn't perfect, but he played them both masterfully. Dror never gave too much to Carrid and avoided confrontation with Narubez almost completely. Everything he did was mindful of that balance. Our army is big enough to deter casual aggression from almost any quarter, but not even close to giving Galtus reason to feel threatened. Carrid has had our back, but father never let them walk all over us."
"And you think I will disturb this... This balance." She snapped.
"I think we need to listen to the Council's advice and experience before we make any changes to father's policy."
"They all have their own agenda."
"Of course, they do. But it's your job to listen and decide which advice serves the kingdom and which the individual. father knew their faults, but he depended on them all nonetheless."
"Well perhaps they need time to be reminded who they serve. Let the paperwork build-up."
"Build up!? There is almost none. If you ask any of them about it, they will tell you they are most unselfishly relieving the burden from you at this troubling time. They are enjoying running their little fiefdoms without royal scrutiny."
The Queen seemed to consider this for a moment. "When you actually start to try and lead them.” Citalley continued. “Then there will be paperwork, you can be sure of that. Rooms of it. They will flood you with so much information, you will beg them to resume working autonomously.”
"Oh, very well Citalley I will meet with them. In two days..."
"But..."
"Quiet. I will meet with them then because as you say, I must address my people." She tilted her head up at this and flattened the dress over her legs.
"I will help you prepare the speech."
"Thank you, but I have some help already."
His face darkened, but the young Prince managed to compose himself enough to leave the room with grace.
Before reaching the doors, they opened.
If they can hear my footsteps, they can hear every word spoken here.
Citalley halted in his stride just outside the room and wheeled back to look at both the Kingdom soldiers.
"My apologies gentleman."
The two men looked at one another awkwardly at the Prince's unexpected words. "Yes, sire." The guard on the right said quickly, bowing deeply with genuine respect.
Citalley paused for a moment, eyes locked on the closed throne room door. He approached the guards, leaning towards them to whisper softly, "We will need you now more than ever." Before turning back down the hall out of sight. The soldiers once again regarded one another, a whole conversation spoken in the blink of an eye and a nod of the head.
Citalley continued down the hall at a pace unseemly for a Crown Prince, more
anxious now than he was before speaking to the Queen. He passed another guard standing in front of the door to the gallery and bowed a fraction to the man, who reciprocated. Drorea had never adopted the salute favoured by its Carridean ally in the north, keeping instead their traditional bow of varying gradients to suit the situation.
Four or five more steps along though, he suddenly stopped and turned. "Guard, why is that door not locked?" He said pointing to the doors edge resting half an inch out of the black frame.
"Er, sire… Your sister, I mean the Princess. Her highness wanted to see the view, I think she said."
The view...
“I see.” The Prince said glaring at the man. ”I too would like to see the view. Open the door please."
The soldier's distress was evident as he found himself caught in an act of misconduct and now being pressured to double down for fear of exposure to the first crime.
"Yes, highness."
"Quietly though." Citalley winked.
The Prince stalked up the narrow spiral staircase to the gallery above the throne room. Peering over the edge to the chamber below, he saw his mother below jump down from the chair and call a guard to accompany her.
That chair really is too big for her.
"She's not going to listen." A voice spoke from behind. Citalley grabbed the rail in surprise and then backed quickly away.
"You’re going to be the death of me one day. Where are you?" He said trying to find her in the darkness.
"I'm here." Looking up he could just about make out a figure, cross legged in an alcove halfway up the high wall in the almost pitch-black corner. Citalley drew a line from there to the throne and realised she had indeed been party to all that was said. The acoustics in the chamber were excellent and he was mindful now of his own voice.
Is anything secret in this Palace? Every door and wall has ears.
"You shouldn't have argued with those men Citalley."
"I know that." He answered quickly before remembering his purpose up here and frowned at her once more. "Thanks for your help."
"You didn't do so bad, better than I expected anyway brother."
"She is not ready for this."
"I'm very glad you didn't say that."
"Do you disagree?"
"No."
"And Nathalian, this is unexpected. How did he..."
"No, it isn't." She cut in. "They are probably laying together."
"What?" Citalley almost shouted, before consciously lowering his voice to a whisper "For how long?"
"You heard, but as usual you didn’t listen... I don't know. I don't even know if they are but she has spent an awful lot of time with him for a few moons now."
"He is a guest of the house, under our protection."
"He isn't some Quoroubi migrant Citalley, he was in Galtus' inner circle for cycles before being forced to run. A known rake and scoundrel..."
"Come down here Dalia." He said abruptly. The Princess nimbly swung around, dropping onto a desk. The Prince watched her move closer while trying to recall his mother’s words.
"How long have you known?"
"I don't know, I just watched them."
"How long have you suspected."
"A few moons, I already said."
"Why tell me now?"
"It never mattered before. Her affair, if that is what it was. Is. Ha, maybe it's even justified?" She looked questioningly at Citalley. Their father’s infidelity was legendary throughout Drorea, maybe even the continent.
"The Council won't stand for this. I won't."
"She is Queen now."
"She is unfit."
"Be careful."
Citalley walked back over to the rail, feeling the muscles at the nape of his neck and shoulders tighten in anger.
This is an unexpected problem.
His gaze was fixed on the throne when he suddenly said, "I will speak to the Council myself, she needs a private secretary anyway."
Dalia walked to the ledge beside her brother, matching his position on the railing.
Coldly she said, "No brother. He needs to die."
"What?!"
"Citalley you are a disgrace. I all but tell you your mother, the Queen of Drorea has been laying with a man not the king. Not only that, but he is interfering in Kingdom politics. Our politics. And your response is to become private secretary. Talk more you mean."
"You said yourself there is no evidence."
"Who do you think he is helping her with the speech?"
"I..." Citalley mumbled before narrowing his eyes back towards the throne.
Stupid.
"Tonight."
"How? Dalia this is crazy."
"I don't know how, do I? I know about as much as killing someone, as she does..." She pointed at the throne, "...ruling a kingdom."
"I don't think..."
"You are the heir, Citalley. What happens now affects your future. All of ours. Who do you think gave her those ideas about the grain? Huh? Ever heard her talk about grain before, or Carrid, or Narubez? You handled her very well earlier, she knew she had to meet the Council at some point and you got a commitment. But you didn't listen. She is scared and out of her depth. She needs help from someone she can trust."
"Of course she does, she needs to realise that the Council work for her."
"No Citalley, she needs to trust you."
"Me? I’m family."
"You are next in line. But that is beside the point. She is ignoring both you and the Council, so we can assume she is leaning on a third actor. Nathanial naturally."
"This could ruin everything. The Council might kill her if they..."
"And who knows, brother. Perhaps they will blame it on you in a desperate, pathetic bid for power. With you out of the way and me somehow too, they could have themselves a little Republic."
"You exaggerate."
"You are unfit to be king too. What would father have done?"
"He..."
"Exactly. I shouldn't have to spell all of this out for you. Mother needs to start looking back to us and a tamed Council for advice.”
“How?”
“Nathanial dies."
“I can't."
“You can. Order one of your men to do it. Pay an assassin. Do it yourself, it doesn’t matter. He needs to disappear. Mother will cry, and the kingdom will have stability.”
Citalley said nothing. "Fine, I’ll do it myself then!” She snapped angrily. After vanishing down the staircase a voice called up loudly, “you are a disappointment."
Citalley was motionless as he considered his sisters words.
Why so passive? She’s right, he is a threat. Affair or not, I write the speeches. Always. Killing him though...
Citalley sighed in resignation and descended the stairs after her to find the door locked. He called the guard, but no reply came.
That bitch.
While Citalley was looking for a way to climb down from the gallery into the throne room without breaking his ankle, his mother walked through her private garden that had been built and landscaped into the Palace’s roof.
She had stopped on the winding pebbled track under the shade of a bright pink blossom tree to watch a family of squirrels that had somehow climbed the towering Palace walls and made the tree home. Seeing the grapes in her hand the tiny creatures scurried down the trunk and hopped towards the women.
Nathalian paced slightly ahead and she noted that the treeline was low, he had to keep stooping his head to avoid disturbing the exotic flowers which grew everywhere.
Maybe that’s why he looks so annoyed.
"Citalley has no respect."
"He is young, Acalley." The man said in accented Dror.
"He never spoke to his father like that."
"What did he say?"
"It's not what, but how. I can tell he thinks I am not ready, not worthy of ruling. He wants me to speak to the Council."
"And you should, but be careful they are..."
"Tricky. Yes
. You will be there with me."
"I don't think that is wise my Queen. If they see me they will resist you all the more.”
She considered this, taking her attention away from the squirrels to the man. Nathalian was taller than the average Naru, but still has the characteristic dark hair and olive skin marking him has such.
“He said that angering the Naru in East Ulon is a mistake.”
“The Council will likely tell you the same.”
“They are your kin, why would you want me to.”
“Because I work for you now, your majesty. I know the problems they are causing. As you said, Citalley himself reported they are late with their taxes this quarter.”
“He said they are testing us.”
“He’s right, they are. They want nothing more than for the Ulon provinces to return to Narubez. They will never leave their farms, but they’ll also never be loyal to you. At this moment, out there...” He waved with his hand, out beyond the city to the country side, “they think they finally have their opportunity.”
“You mean they think I’m weak”
“Yes, your highness. They do.”
“And you think too?” She said with genuine concern, a slight tremble in her voice.
“No, highness. But my advice is that you show them what kind of a ruler they really have. If they won’t pay the taxes on time, the crown goes in to collect it. If their partisans continue to ambush your soldiers and burn down kingdom assets, you respond with asymmetric force. No different from anywhere else.”
“You’re right” she said realizing they had, in fact, given her no choice.
At least that is what I can say to the Council
“You’re in charge now, Acalley.”
“I know that.” She said with mild irritation. “I just wish Citalley… Oh never mind.”
“Maybe he need’s something to keep him busy.”
“What to do you mean?”
“Well he’s nearly a man, but he hasn’t seen much of the kingdom as far as I’m aware?”
“That’s true.” She confirmed with suddenly renewed interest.
“Maybe it would be good for him to spend some time out in the country. Talking with his people, learning to fight and lead.”
“Send him off to the army? Nathalian, I can’t do…”
“No, no. I don’t mean that, just for a short-while. Maybe seeing how most of the people outside the capital live will teach him some humility and respect.”
The Ravens of Carrid Tower Page 3