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I doubt I’d shed a tear if I saw Monad’s head on a spike—be it mine or my enemies’.
“That might solve our problem in the east, but what do you say about our troubles in the south?” Adelid, my father’s cherished best friend and brother-in-law, chimes in, pulling my attention toward him and away from the man who dreams of wearing his chain mail armor again. “Excuse my naivete, Monad, but how are we to feed our soldiers as well as Her Majesty’s subordinates if the south keepsmisplacingtheir shipments of food to us? I doubt starving soldiers win wars.”
Monad’s face instantly turns beet red, but he’s clever enough not to raise a hand or vicious word against my uncle in response. If there is a man in this room that I trust, it’s him. As did my father before me. And every adviser here knows that Adelid’s counsel is the only one that I really pay attention to.
Still, he’s failed to give me a solution.
In fact, the only thing Uncle Adelid has managed to do is alert everyone in this great hall of another pesky problem I need to fix.
My body stiffens when the large room grows eerily quiet, every pair of eyes directed at my throne, looking to me to offer Adelid an answer, since it’s apparent Monad cannot. A low ringing sound worms its way into my ears, my skin starting to itch with each passing second that I’m unable to give a worthy response.
My tense muscles only relax when someone in the back of the hall decides to break the awkward silence in my stead, successfully pulling the crowd’s attention off me and onto him. “My queen, if I may be so bold to add in a word,” my treasurer, Otto, proclaims hesitantly.
Grateful for the distraction, I wave him over, the crowd of men immediately parting to give Otto ample room to approach my throne at the head of the great hall.
But when he finally reaches me and drops a knee with his head bowed down in respect, it takes him a good three minutes to stand back up straight. And when he does finally manage to do that simple task, the poor man’s face turns so sickly pale with how everyone is impatiently staring at him, I’m afraid he’ll pass out before he actually says what’s on his mind.
“Go ahead, Otto. Say your piece. Her Majesty is waiting,” Uncle Adelid says curtly when my treasurer looks like he’s two seconds away from regurgitating whatever he had for breakfast.
Even though my uncle shares everyone else’s impatience with Otto, I’m not as intolerant.
Unlike every man here, it’s a well-known fact that Otto is not one to enjoy notoriety or attention of any kind. In fact, I don’t think he likes dealing with people in general, preferring to keep company with his ledgers and books. It’s a trait that I empathize with.
Men have a tendency to lie and make themselves larger than they really are.
Numbers are not as misleading.
They just are.
Factual.
Purposeful.
Honest.
How many men here can boast to possess such attributes?
That’s why I wait patiently for him to collect his thoughts, giving him time to gather his courage to say what he has to. Unfortunately for Otto, there are others who are getting restless and irritated with him trying to conquer his anxiety and nerves of public speaking
“Otto, for all that’s holy, just blurt it out, man,” Monad curses, showing that patience was never his strong suit.
“Your Highness,” Otto stammers bowing his head again, unable to look me in the eye, or anyone else’s for that matter, “how are we to go to war with King Levi in the east or demand that King Teodoro deliver his food shipments to us from the south, when we are unable to pay for any of it?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused, my brow arching up high on my forehead. “We have coal and iron to trade, or if that isn’t an option, then I don’t see why we can’t mine diamonds and gemstones from our mountains to offer our compatriots in exchange for their services.”
“My queen,” Otto mumbles, his voice trembling with fear as he approaches even closer to my throne. “We rely on materials brought from the west to mine as well as their fleets to ship our coal and iron to the other kingdoms. Unfortunately,” he continues, his voice cracking, looking every which way instead of meeting my fixed gaze. “King Atlas has… well… has nulled all contracts with us and will no longer be providing us this service.”
My upper lip curls in aggravation.
“Did King Atlas give us an explanation as to why he feels he should go against his queen’s orders and break a contract that had been forged for decades?” Adelid interrogates, looking just as angry as I feel.
Otto shakes his head, taking a step back away from me, worried that I’ll punish him for young King Atlas’s defiance.
“This is mutiny, Your Highness! Mutiny! We must respond in kind!” Monad shouts, punching the air with his clenched fists.
My nails tap on the arm of my throne, contemplating what action will serve my people best, while the rest of the room murmurs amongst themselves. The only thing that pulls me out of my deep thoughts is when I hear an all too familiar accusation being hurled out, succeeding in setting my teeth on edge.
“None of this would be happening if King Orville were alive. A woman should not rule. She’ll damn us all! She will ruin us!”
