Chapter 37 Stud #2
“Now, each minister has a book. They are required by royal law to keep one, and negligence in this matter is punishable by imprisonment or death in extreme cases. Has Magnar looked at their books since his return?”
“I don’t think so.”
She harrumphs, shaking her head. “No, he never does unless he’s forced. Good thing you took interest. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad you’re here. Magnar knows how to handle soldiers, granted, but those fat worms are another breed. Your father had ministers and advisors, correct?”
“Yes. He had his ways of dealing with them.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Human ways might work here, so try them later. For now, you need to ask for their books. All of them.”
I nod slowly, my head pounding, just like Magnar’s. “There are thirteen ministers. I assume the books are thick and written in your language.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Idrina says, settling in with a satisfied smile.
“Just you having the books will make them sweat. They’ve always skimmed off the top, and the longer they go unchecked, the more audacious they get.
Now, you can bring me a few books, and your knights can look into the others. All you need to do is find one error.”
“One? Shouldn’t we find all?”
She shakes her head with a scoff. “All? And how will you replace thirteen ministers at once? No, girl, the trick is to behead one and put the fear of the king in the rest so they do their jobs. And bring in someone eager and hard-working to replace the scapegoat, someone they’ll have to compete against. A woman, if you get Magnar to accept her.
Hrognar never wanted to hear it, but Magnar just might. ”
I nod, convinced by her reasoning. There’s only one thing I don’t like.
“Must the scapegoat minister be beheaded? Can’t we just dismiss him?”
“And have him start a rebellion or sell sensitive information?” she asks with a look of utter contempt.
“No, girl. They know secrets, and secrets have power. Never dismiss a minister or anyone who knows too much, for the matter. If you have a close friend you share secrets with, and then you have a falling out, it’s your job to have this friend put in the ground.
If you’re careless, next thing you know, your children will be slaughtered and your crown stolen.
You must stop with this human softness. Oh, and get a tutor, learn to read Agnidari.
I’ll only be around until you give birth, but you can have those after I’m gone. ”
She waves her hand at a narrow bookshelf where six thick tomes bound in red leather sit side by side.
“My diaries,” she explains with a smirk. “If you want to learn how to be an Agnidari queen, you only need to read those. Make sure you have a string of pearls to clutch. It’s a scandalizing read.”
I laugh despite myself, and she grins back. I’ve grown to like her very much. I know Magnar is fond of his mother, too, and looks in on her for a few minutes every evening, if only to wish her a good night.
The idea of having one of the ministers executed still weighs heavy in my chest, though not as much as it should. I consider this option seriously, comparing its pros and cons until I make my peace with it.
Sometimes, I think I must have inherited my father’s calculating streak. He never had trouble sacrificing lives to meet his goals, and well, if that’s the best way to get my ministers in line, so be it.
And since that’s acceptable, why not go a step further?
When the ministers file into the room, I watch them all with an impassive smile. Most of them bow and murmur greetings, neatly hiding their disappointment to see me here yet again, which means they’ll have to make an effort to speak my language.
Then, the Minister of Beekeeping comes in.
He’s one of the youngest, a man in his early forties with long black hair thinning at his temples, and eyebrows trimmed into thin, severe lines.
As soon as his eyes fall on me, his nose wrinkles with obvious dislike.
I smile serenely. He’s been the most disrespectful toward both me and Magnar during our previous meetings, but I was willing to give him a last chance.
He's flung it away with that disrespectful look.
Even better, Magnar saw it. He watches the minister, whose name is Ronan, with his eyes cooly narrowed. I beckon my husband to lean closer so I can whisper in his ear. Rude, but I am the queen and get to be rude now, as Idrina keeps reminding me.
“I’d like to try something to make them more cooperative. Will you let me?”
Magnar snorts, and when I pull away, his tired eyes shine with mischief.
“Of course. You don’t need to ask.”
They all sit. Magnar pulls the heavy chair back for me, and I take my place at his right hand. He’s the last to sit, signifying the official start of the meeting.
The elderly Minister of Agriculture clears his throat and welcomes both Magnar and me in a droning voice.
My knees shake a little, because what I’m going to do goes against the very core of my upbringing.
A man is speaking, a man older than me, and I’ve been punished quite harshly for interrupting in the past when I was still a lively child and intensely curious.
I’d cut in to ask a barrage of questions, which got me locked up in the cellar.
So I learned never to interrupt, especially men.
Idrina says I must practice being naughty. “You keep showing deference like this, and everyone will walk all over you. Unlearn whatever they taught you in that pathetic human court. Push boundaries and see what happens.”
I stand up, hiding my clenched fists in the wide, brocade skirts of my dress, and Magnar grips the back of my chair, pulling it back to give me room. The minister stops his address, blinking at me with mild reproach. It’s a look I know well, and I thwart my urge to apologize.
“Thank you, Minister. Both me and my husband have little time, so from now on, we’ll dispense with the lengthy introductions. Let’s move on to the most important part of our meeting.”
The Minister of Agriculture opens his mouth, staring at me with mild disbelief. For a few seconds, no one reacts.
“With all due respect,” Ronan breaks the silence, looking quite offended. “But Your Majesty has taken part in two meetings and has little experience with the matters of this council. We practice certain manners and traditions that have been upheld by generations of Agnidari rulers.”
He puts a heavy accent on the name of his race, reminding me I’m human and should know my place. I swallow thickly, uncertainty rising. I know I am new here. It’s presumptuous of me to make changes so early, or at all.
The silence stretches, and I half expect Magnar to step in, but he doesn’t move or speak. Ronan’s lips stretch in an insincere smile. He thinks he’s won.
But I am the queen, and he’s only my minister. If I let this slide now, they’ll dismiss me as weak.
I am not weak.
“I’d like to see your book, Minister Ronan,” I say softly, looking right into his arrogant eyes gleaming blue.
And I can’t help but think, “You’ll be the scapegoat.”
His face falls, and he pulls back, blinking heavily. I’ve surprised him, but not for long.
“My book, Your Majesty? Why would you need it? You can’t read a word of our language—with all due respect.”
“You seem to like your due respect, Minister,” I say, speaking over the faint growl coming from Magnar’s throat. He’s angry but doesn’t interrupt. “Please, tell me, what’s the due course of action when your queen asks for your book?”
Deafening silence fills the room, all ministers watching me with a new air of wary alertness. Ronan grimaces, evidently not wanting to answer my question. Oh, he hates serving under a human queen.
“If you fail to bring me your book within five minutes,” I say when he won’t speak, “you will be charged with negligence.”