Tiara- Part One

by Robin Roseau

  “Cautiously.” I paused, struggling to be fair. “Don’t get too serious with someone, but…”

  “But the sex is really good,” Mariya said.

  “Yes, the sex is amazingly good,” I agreed. “We do some things better. We have better fashion, and the arts. But you can safely walk the streets of Charth, day or night. I looked at Mariya. “No one ever bothered me. Not once did I feel unsafe. The entire town knows who I am, and if anything, they looked out for me. I’m not going to find that anywhere else.”

  “It’s sex with another woman,” Renishta said.

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  “That’s…” She trailed off.

  “Not the Flarvorian way,” I said. “So? Different doesn’t mean wrong. And maybe it should be the Flarvorian way.” I paused. “I guess my point is: if you find yourself with the chance to experience it, you should keep an open mind.” Then I paused, growing more serious. “However, the official attitude when talking to the people here is just the opposite.”

  “I don’t understand,” Renishta said.

  “It is against Flarvorian interests for the Gandeetians to become closer to the Ressalines than they already are. We won’t interfere, but we certainly won’t promote a closer relationship. If Lady Olivia wants trade here, she can send a delegation.”

  * * * *

  Mr. Epseen took his seat. We looked across my desk. Before me were my notes regarding his staff. I had notes on everyone, and I wasn’t remotely done. “I want you to know that anything you tell me goes no further.”

  “Your father?”

  “If I feel Father needs to know something, I’ll ask if you mind.” He nodded at that. “I want to know the truth how Mr. Gremish assumed the title of Acting Ambassador.”

  Unlike the last time this had come up, nothing crossed his face. He’d been prepared for me to ask, I decided. “He was deemed the logical choice.”

  “Was he?” I asked. “By whom?” He shifted in his seat then realized he’d done it and stilled. I sighed, and I made it obvious. “Who in this embassy can I trust to actually tell me the truth, Mr. Epseen?”

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, Your Highness.”

  “You clearly don’t want to talk about this, and you’re trying to hide the truth.” I leaned forward. “You wanted that title.”

  “Hendol is a fine chief of staff,” he replied.

  “But once Lord Marlish left, you were the ranking diplomat.”

  “Yes, but Hendol is better at politics.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Keep going.”

  He looked away, staring out the window for a minute. When he began speaking, he didn’t look directly at me. “I was the one who suggested we should declare an acting ambassador, that the Gandeetians might take us more seriously if we did.”

  “Ah,” I said again. “And then you were outplayed?”

  He turned back to me. “Like a child.”

  “When I left Barrish, it was understood Mr. Gremish had assumed authority for the embassy, but the expanded title wasn’t mentioned. Can you explain that?”

  “This culminated about a month ago,” he explained. “And we informed Barrish in the next dispatch. I’m not sure when that was.”

  “So, notice could have arrived after my departure, or it arrived in a fashion that it didn’t make its way to me in time.” I nodded. “What was your long-term plan, Mr. Epseen, if you hadn’t been outmaneuvered?”

  “I don’t understand the question.”

  “Did you expect to retain the title?”

  “Oh. Your Highness, I have served the crown reliably and loyally my entire life.”

  “I have no doubt. And?”

  “I have held a variety of posts. I was in Charth when the Ressalines invaded.”

  “I didn’t know that,” I said. “I should have.”

  “I’d barely arrived,” he explained. “I am not a young man. I fully expect this to be my last posting.”

  “You appear to be quite healthy.” He shrugged. “You were explaining your long-term plan?”

  “If I were going to be named ambassador somewhere, it would have happened by now.”

  “Ah. I see. And?”

  “I guess.” He looked away. “At least I could have said I was temporarily an acting ambassador.”

  I paused then gentled my tone. “There’s nothing wrong with ambition,” I said. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting a story to tell your grandchildren.”

  He returned his gaze to me. “I think Hendol did a good job teaching me why I’ve never been named ambassador anywhere.”

  I considered him carefully. It didn’t all quite add up. “Was Lord Marlish a good ambassador?” I waited, wondering if he’d answer, and if I could trust the answer.

  “He was,” Mr. Epseen said, speaking slowly. “Past tense.”

  “What happened?”

  “He got tired of the game. I can’t say I blame him.” Then he smiled. “He was here when I got here, but he still had that fire. I understand that his first few weeks weren’t entirely unlike yours.”

  “He yelled at a few ministers?”

  “Lord Marlish never yells. He did, however, present a list of recommendations for King Leander.”

  “And here I thought I was being creative,” I said, pouting.

  “The only challenge with that is convincing them you’re serious,” Mr. Epseen said. “The Gandeetians aren’t corrupt, not exactly. They have a different set of rules than we do. I have never caught anyone in the government doing anything that is contrary to their laws. Oh, I’m sure it happens, but I haven’t caught anyone. But just about everything they do is illegal in Flarvor.”

  “When the people writing the laws benefit from them…”

  “Well, perhaps that is how it happened, but it was generations ago. Now they simply play by the rules set down by their great-grandfathers.”

  “All right. I want to talk about your staff in a minute. How much of this conversation do you think I should share with Father?”

  “I think, Princess, that you should tell him what you think is best.”

  “Then I will.”

  * * * *

  I met with all the department heads. I got as good a picture of things here as I could. In the end, I decided everyone here was competent, but I had a lot to think about.

  What to do about Mr. Yorial was the most difficult decision I made. Ultimately, I decided he would return to Flarvor with Mr. Gremish. Wiser heads could decide after that.

  Then I sat down with Marga and Bridgie, my couriers. “If I need a dispatch sent to Father, and I don’t want anyone here to know I’ve sent it, and absolutely no chance you’ll encounter them on the road, how far ahead of them do you need to leave? Can you do this? Is it safe?”

  The two eyed each other, then Bridgie answered, “This is why you have two of the Royal Couriers here, Princess.”

  “Do I send you both?”

  “Are you sending word to King Leander that war is imminent?”

  I laughed. “Nothing so dire.”

  “Then one of us will be fine,” Marga said. “If it were me, I’d hope to leave the evening before. I’d slip away when no one was paying attention to me.”

  “All right,” I said. “Make whatever preparations you need. I need to think about some of this. You’ll leave tomorrow night. I’ll keep Gremish here one more full day, just to be sure. Who is going?”

  “I am,” Bridgie said. “With your permission, Your Highness.”

  I nodded. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “This is what we do.”

  I got to work writing. I told Father everything I’d encountered. I made sure he knew Mr. Gremish had been gracious, but I was pretty sure Father wasn’t going to reward his ambition. Maybe that would have been different if promoting himself had actually accomplished something, but it felt like nothing but a power play. If I’d been offended, I imagined Father would be even more so.

  He could decide what
he was going to do, but I didn’t want to wonder when the next power play was going to happen.

  I decided not to send Mr. Epseen home. I was going to need him. But I wrote to Father:

  I don’t trust anyone here. I think they’re picking up bad habits from the Gandeetians. I am convinced Mr. Epseen is playing politics with me, and I don’t believe his story that Mr. Gremish outplayed him. I think it might have been Mr. Gremish who was outplayed. But I don’t have a clear motive, and I can’t prove a thing.

  The understaff appear competent. If I were cleaning house, I probably would only clear out every department head and possibly some of the direct assistants, anyone with authority.

  I recommend your permanent ambassador come with his own department heads, but I’m not sure how to make a smooth transition. There are years of specific experience here.

  I also haven’t determined why the staff here is as large as it is. It feels like bloat, but clearly, I haven’t been here long enough to know. Of course, everyone complains they’re understaffed, but isn’t that what everyone says?

  Father, please don’t leave me here any longer than necessary. I want to come home. But I’d like to stick around long enough to resolve the immediate issues with the Gandeetians.

  Father, unless I hear otherwise, I’m going to review every agreement Lord Marlish made over the last ten years, and I’m not sure how many I intend to let stand. You gave me a lot of authority, so if you didn’t really mean it, you have time to stop me.

  * * * *

  I gathered both couriers, my three aides, and Sergeant Felist. “All of you. Read this.” Then I gave them everything I was sending to Father. They clustered into two groups, the first group reading a page and passing it to the second group. I moved to the window and stared out for a while, glancing over from time to time to check progress. Finally, they were all looking at me. I turned. “Bridgie, nothing in there is worth your life.”

  “But there are people who wouldn’t want it to reach your father,” she replied.

  “Could you give Father a verbal report?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “All right. Does anyone want to comment?” I looked around. “Does anyone think I’m coming to the wrong conclusions?” None of them said a thing. I stepped over, looking at them with a stern expression. “If I’m being an idiot, I need to know.”

  “You’re not being an idiot,” said Sergeant Felist. “Do you really think I’d shut up if I thought something needed to be said?”

  “How about the rest of you?”

  “What did you mean when you thought Mr. Gremish had been outplayed?”

  “I think Mr. Epseen knew what the reaction would be like when Father heard about the spontaneous promotion.”

  “You think he was getting rid of Mr. Gremish?”

  “Yes,” I said. “You don’t rise to his position if you aren’t far better at politics than anyone else. I hate not knowing who I can trust.”

  “Easy,” said the sergeant. “Don’t trust any of them.”

  I stared at her. I knew she was serious. Worse: she was probably right. Oh, undoubtedly some were just trying to do their jobs. But no one disagreed with her, and I nodded. “Terla, Selzen, Father might send a real ambassador at any moment, so I could be going home next week. But we can’t assume that, so long term, I want you to learn whatever you can.”

  “Of course, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you. Short term, I need an analysis of every agreement Lord Marlish made.”

  “We’re on it,” Terla said. “Do you think he was taking bribes?”

  “I have no evidence of that. I think he was just tired.” I gestured to my note. “Would you make changes to that?”

  “I probably wouldn’t have written it this way,” she said. “But I’m not the king’s daughter. Send it.”

  “Send it,” Selzen agreed.

  “Send it,” Renishta said.

  “All right. Bridgie, do you need my help?”

  “We need to seal this,” she said. “But no.”

  “How are you going to sneak out?”

  “She met someone in town,” Marga said.

  “You did? Already?” They both gave me That Look. “Oh,” I said. “Now I feel stupid. All right then.”

  “I have a dinner date,” Bridgie said. “Let’s get this taken care of.”

  * * * *

  Bridgie slipped away, entirely unnoticed. Marga assured me Bridgie would be fine, but I would worry about her, anyway.

  I met with Mr. Gremish extensively, pulling as much from him as I could. It was the night before he was due to depart that I said, “I’ll see you off in the morning.”

  He nodded. “Your Highness, could I ask a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did King Leander order me back?”

  “No. I did.” I didn’t think that was really the question he was asking, but I waited to see what else he’d ask.

  “I’ve been doing the best I can,” he said finally. “And I’ve noticed that there is only one Royal Courier here. When did you send the other one ahead?”

  “What is it you really want to know?”

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  I considered. I interpreted that as not knowing what to ask. “You want to know what sort of reception to expect in Barrish.”

  “Yes, I suppose I do.”

  “I do not believe King Leander will be pleased you gave yourself a promotion,” I said. “I think you recognized that, possibly before I arrived, possibly not until you saw my credentials. Mr. Gremish, I am a mere 18 years old, which implies certain things. But I’ve spent my life surrounded by politics and intrigue. Common dinner conversation in our home was the latest intrigue. Father talked casually about it, but at the same time, quite sadly. He used to say, ‘We’re all supposed to be on the same side’, but everyone had to spend more effort watching his back than seeing to solutions for the country.”

  “I wasn’t trying to engage in intrigue.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  His eyes widened, and then he looked away, his lips tightening. “Do you have any advice?”

  “I imagine, Mr. Gremish, that you are like any man. You have ambition. There is nothing wrong with ambition. I believe you served Lord Marlish as well and as honestly as you could. And you were gracious when I arrived.” I paused, only for a moment. “I do not believe you are the right man to serve as ambassador, not here or anywhere else. I think you are the right man for exactly what you were doing, or perhaps for other administrative roles. Father has an eye for talent, and he isn’t known for being wasteful. You have to decide how you feel about that.”

  He nodded. “I think you’re right, Your Highness.”

  “You have time to think about what you want, and to think about where your own skills lie. When you meet with the king, I recommend simple honesty. Accept responsibility for both your successes and failures.” I paused. “I wouldn’t bring up Mr. Epseen. Do I need to be more direct?”

  “No, Your Highness. I gather your meaning. May I ask what you intend to do?”

  “I’ve asked Father not to leave me here overlong,” I replied. “And I’m going to consider the source of information in every decision I make.”

  “Very wise,” he said. He groaned. “Advice I’ve given Lord Marlish more than a time or two.”

  “Some things are easy to see when we’re not caught up in them,” I replied. “You understand that while theoretically I have the authority to deal directly with this, I can’t really deal directly with this, Mr. Gremish.”

  “I understand, Your Highness,” he said. He looked at me carefully, and I thought perhaps it was time to thank him. But he said, “I think, Your Highness, that you are going to spend your life surprising people.”

  It felt honest, and I found myself smiling. “It is easy to look at me and come to certain conclusions.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Three years ago, those conclusions
would have been accurate,” I replied.

  “Fifteen to eighteen is a big step.”

  “I don’t think I’m done with those sorts of steps.”

  “No, probably not. Was there more I can do for you tonight, Your Highness?”

  “No, thank you, Mr. Gremish.”

  * * * *

  I saw them off in the morning. Before he climbed into the carriage, I offered my hand. “Thank you for not making this difficult for me, Mr. Gremish.”

  “I think, Your Highness, that you’ve helped me understand a few things about myself. For that, I owe you my gratitude.”

  “If you’re honest with Father, you’ll find he’s a fair man, but it may not seem like that for a while.”

  “I think I understand what you’re saying.” He squeezed my hand a moment longer.

  A minute later, as I watched, the carriage rode out through the gates. Sergeant Felist stepped to my shoulder. “Should we breathe a sigh of relief?”

  “Not a chance,” I said. I looked over at her. “You can relax when you get me back to Barrish. Do you understand what I’m saying, Sergeant?”

  She nodded. “Yes, your highness. You’re dressed for a little exercise.”

  “So I am,” I replied. I turned for the exercise yard and then barely avoided her when she jumped me. A month ago, she could have killed me six times over in the first minute; now, it was only three times.

  Progress.

  Invitation

  Having delivered my credentials, I gave the Gandeet ministers an opportunity to reach out to me. I wanted a more complete picture, after all, and so a little delay didn’t bother me. I also wondered whether Gandeet society would make an overture.

  It was two days after Mr. Gremish departed the city that I thought the Minister of Commerce decided to meet with me. I was mistaken.

  “Your Highness,” said Ms. Pelonden from the doorway. “There are people asking to see you,” she replied. “Ms. Leyviel and an older woman.”

  “Very good. Mr. Epseen, I think we were about done. Perhaps you would help greet my guests.”

  “Of course, Your Highness.”

  “Show them in, Ms. Pelonden.” I stood and stepped around my desk. Renishta gestured, and two women stepped into my office, the elder leading the way.