Chapter 2
II Rule
Caliane
Arvi gives me a long, lingering kiss and stands up, evidently not about to make use of my remaining twenty minutes.
“Practice some more,” he says, looking pointedly at my amethyst toy. “And let me see next time.”
“Oh, I will,” I mutter at his retreating back. “As soon as I figure out another free moment in between everything else.”
I put on my dress and a pair of flat shoes made of soft leather, then check my hair in the mirror. Just as I’m about to leave to put some fear in my council members, the door flies open and Nisha bursts in, wailing like a flock of wild geese. I drop down to my knees and open my arms.
“What happened, honey? Are you hurt?”
She sobs into my shoulder while Tasha, Khay’s sister, runs in with an exasperated huff, holding Sameel in her arms.
“He took my ring and ate it!” Nisha complains between sobs and sniffs. She’s in my lap now, her little arms circling my neck, and her wails have subsided—as they always do when I hold her close.
“What?” I look up at Tasha in alarm.
She nods. “He did. It’s small enough to pass safely. The medic said she’d make up a brew to help Sameel poop it out.”
Nisha wails again, and I wince at the loud sound.
“Honey, we’ve talked about this. Don’t scream like this when my ear is right there. It hurts.”
She sniffles. “Sorry, Mama. But my ring! He ate my ring!”
“And you love that ring a lot, I know. Papa Khay gave it to you, is that right? You’ll get it back. We just have to wait a day or two.”
Nisha pulls away from my shoulder that’s now soaked with her tears and gives me a look of utter disgust. I almost laugh, but her face crumples in misery again, and I swallow hard to keep my face serious.
“But it will be all poopy!”
I nod. “Yes, it will. But guess what? We will wash it with the strongest soap and soak it in jewelry polish, and I promise you, it will not only be clean but even shinier than ever before. What do you think? Is this a good solution?”
She regards me seriously, finally nodding before sliding off my lap. She gives me a wet, sloppy kiss on the cheek.
“All right. But if he ever does it again, I’ll put a spider under his pillow!”
“Yes, and he’ll probably eat it.” I sigh, because Sameel has an appetite for all the things he’s not supposed to put in his mouth.
Nisha runs out into the corridor, her distress all but forgotten, and I come over to Tasha to give Sameel a kiss on his downy red hair.
“I’m sorry, Caliane,” Tasha says. “I should have minded him better. I swear I only turned for a moment.”
I touch her arm just above her elbow, where I know it’s safe for her, and smile. “It’s not your fault. Nisha shouldn’t leave her jewelry lying around. Maybe this adventure will teach her to mind her things. Are you well? Do you need to rest? Arvi or Raduna could relieve you.”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine. Don’t you have a council meeting soon? Better get going, and I really need to catch up with Nisha before she raids the royal treasury for more rings.”
I let her go and set out toward the council room, smiling to myself.
Nisha loves being a princess way more than I ever did, that’s for sure.
She adores shiny things and all her pretty dresses, although that doesn’t keep her from ripping them to tatters every time she climbs a tree or chases squirrels in the garden.
Sameel is a curious, lively boy, and he’s already eaten his share of insects and small objects, which is why I’m not too worried about the ring he swallowed. He’ll be fine.
The children don’t have nannies, teachers, or governesses, like I did. With four fathers, a mother, and Tasha, who’s become like a sister to me, they have enough care and attention, even when Magnar and I are busy with work.
Their childhoods are so vastly different from my own. As always when I think about it, the ache of grief squeezes my heart even as my chest swells with gratitude. I wish I had had a large, involved family as a child, and at the same time, I am so happy my children get to have it even if I didn’t.
The council meeting drags on. The Minister of Trade insists on paving a road in Serilla that gets flooded every spring, stopping all travel through the area for a week. The Minister of Treasury insists paving the road is too expensive, and Serilla’s taxes have yet to come in for the year.
“Are there cheaper solutions?” I ask Hybris, my new Minister of Architecture. She’s Vardi’s daughter and a prodigy—he’s taught her everything he knows and claims she’s surpassed him despite being only thirty-two.
Her gray forehead wrinkles in a frown as she considers the problem. Like Vardi’s hair, hers is shiny and robust when unbound, but she wears it coiled in two tight braids heavy with tinkling jewelry. Her eyes are silver like her mother’s.
She is exquisite and has caused quite a stir when she initially joined our court.
It took five harsh public rejections of male advances to stop other courtiers from pursuing her.
Hybris isn’t interested in men, but I’ve seen her exchanging sweet, intimate whispers with Tasha once.
Maybe she’ll be part of our family one day, not just the court.
“Every solution will cost you.” Once she’s gathered her thoughts, Hybris speaks fast and without the obsequiousness some of the ministers tend toward. “But paving the road might not solve the problem. How severe is the flooding? Push a map here, there’s a good chap.”
She snaps her fingers at the ancient Minister of Agriculture, who passes her the map with an offended huff. I rub my forehead, knowing I’m in for another fruitless conversation about manners with Hybris. We’ve had three so far, and she keeps treating the other ministers as her subordinates.
She is also brilliant, which is a good enough reason to overlook her faults.
“See? That’s the problem,” she says, jabbing her claw at a part of the map showing a sharp river curve. “The bank has to be raised and the riverbed widened; otherwise the area will flood every spring when the snows melt.”
“That’s just as expensive as paving the road if not more,” the Minister of Treasury says, shooting Hybris a sharp look. “Is it really worth it to speed up trade by one week?”
Hybris pulls closer a sheet of thick paper and calculates something in her messy handwriting. “The delay doesn’t cost much on the scale of one year. I’d say raising the bank should pay off after seven years, more or less. Faster if you build a town there.”
She jabs the map again. “This area has good, fertile soil but because of how unpredictable the river is, no one farms it. If you fix the river, you’ll have more farmers, more produce, and more taxes.”
“That’s even more expensive, and there is no guarantee the town will thrive,” the Minister of Agriculture says, folding his hands piously on the table. He’s still angry with Hybris for her dismissive treatment and doesn’t trust her because of her young age.
“Not to mention last year’s drought has affected Serilla’s wealth,” the Minister of Treasury adds, throwing his long, black hair over his shoulder with an impatient flip of his clawed hand.
“Roharra would have to pay for most of the expenses. Your Majesty, do you consider the matter urgent enough to take from our own coffers?”
I stifle a sigh and tap the table, gathering my thoughts. It’s tempting to say I need some time to think it through and put off the decision until next week, but by then, we’ll have six more urgent problems to solve. I’ve learned that postponing only makes things worse.
“Serilla is our kingdom, just like Roharra,” I say at last. “One day, my heir will sit on its throne, so do remember that.”
They nod, and I break off, indecisive. Truth is, last year’s droughts have depleted all of our coffers. Only Farneer and Roharra fared well enough, the first because of its milder climate up north, the second—because late King Hrognar’s irrigation system helped the farmers save most of the crops.
Still, I have spent money freely on all kinds of improvements over the last few years.
Our gold reserves are thinner than I’d like.
If I keep spending, I’ll have to tell Magnar that we’re all but destitute, and he’ll take it upon himself to fix my mistakes.
Knowing him, he’ll stop sleeping for weeks.
“Hybris, I’d like you to consider cheap, temporary solutions to the problem. Maybe there is something we haven’t thought of yet. Give it a week, and if you don’t come up with anything, we’ll leave it as it is.”
She nods in acquiescence, and the Minister of Law lays out another matter for my consideration.
I do my best to listen, even though a headache builds behind my temples.
I don’t feel good about leaving the river to flood the trade route, but I’ve learned over years that trying to fix everything only leads to disappointments and frustration.
Our kingdoms thrive, and our people are well fed and healthy despite last year’s poor harvests. This reminder helps me sit straighter. I am a good queen, even if I don’t solve my subjects’ every problem.
Still, when the meeting is over, I remain in my seat, leaning my forehead on my hand until the room goes quiet.
Soft breeze falls in through an open window, and I breathe in the spicy, smoky scent of Roharra, my home.
I should probably relieve Tasha and take the kids, but my body feels drained, my mind fuzzy, so I don’t move.
When I hear the click of the lock, I jerk up. Khay leans against the door, his arms folded, and watches me with a smile.
“Are you tired, my lady? You look like you could use a break.”
“Yes, well, being a queen isn’t as glamorous as people like to believe,” I mutter. “It’s hard, ungracious work most of the time. Have you seen the kids?”
“They are in the greenhouse with Raduna,” he says, and I relax. They are safe, and Tasha gets a break. Me, too. “I came to offer a nice distraction, my lady.”