“Are there cheaper solutions?” I ask Hybris, my new Minister of Architecture. She’s Vardi’s daughter and a prodigy—he’staught 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 costmuch 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 allbut 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.”
I sigh, half with pleasure, half with exhaustion. I know that smile. Khay has naughtiness on his mind, but I don’t know if I’m up for it. There is just so much to do.
“Khay, I have letters to write, and I should really prepare for the trial next week, and—”
“And the world will not end if you stop thinking about all of that for fifteen minutes.”
He pushes away from the door, coming closer with long, languid strides. Oh, Khay is so beautiful. When he moves with such lazy confidence, he brings to mind a wild cat prowling through its territory.
“Fifteen minutes? That doesn’t sound realistic.” I push my chair back so I can stand. “Maybe let’s wait until evening. I have a lot to—Khay!”
He picks me up, cradling my body to his chest, and turns toward the largest window, which is cracked open. A side table stands right next to it, and Khay deposits me on top. I scramble to keep my balance on all fours, facing the window. I just see people milling around the courtyard, as tiny as mice from this height.
