Ka'lana dismissed the gathering, as no one had anything else to say, and left the throne room, her white robes floating about her. Soon she was joined by the palace Administrator, who was in charge of things like kingdom funds and to where the money went, as it was needed. "Your Highness- I mean, Your Majesty," he began, hastily amending his statement at a sharp glance from his Queen.
While he babbled on about finances and damages to be repaired, Ka'lana studied him from the corner of her eye. He, of all her subjects, was the one who had accepted her the least. Ordinarily, it wouldn't bother her--it had taken a good many people a long time to adjust, as many had been very close to her father--but something just didn't seem right about his resistance. She knew he, too, had been close to her father--she had never seen him far from her father's side--but she had never liked him much. The feeling he gave her made her want to take a bath after every encounter, as though he was something slimy that had smeared its muck all over her.
She sighed as she caught his look--he wore a look of agitation on his ancient, wrinkled features, that showed how old he must have been, for elves age extremely slowly--that spoke as plainly as though he had come outright and said he was annoyed; he had asked her a question. "I'm sorry, Ferdinand, I wasn't paying attention. What was the question?" she asked, coming to a stop outside her chambers.
"I said, would Your Hi- Majesty approve these orders?" He held out a sheaf of papers, folded and awaiting her seal and signature. Of all the assumptive--! She halted that thought, taking the papers and ignoring Ferdinand's glower as she opened and thoroughly scanned each one. He had folded them as though she would meekly sign them and not bother to read them. Most of them were needed--a city's street repairs, tax relief for the newly homeless villagers, money going to rebuild the villages--and she was about to go in and stamp them when the last one caught her eye.
"Ferdinand?" she asked; as she was studying the parchment she missed the look of fierce rage crossing his face. "Who gave orders to cut funding to the army, especially in this crucial time?" Ferdinand had his happy, complacent mask back on as she looked up at him. "Well, I don't rightly know, Your Majesty," he said, his voice oily and smooth. Ka'lana repressed the urge to shudder. "I shall get rid of it, shall I?" Lana handed it to him, and opened her door. "I will stamp and sign these, and bring them back. Wait here a moment."
She closed her door, deeply troubled by her discovery. In the event that something else was out of place, she reread each word of all the papers. Finally satisfied, she bore them to her desk, lighting the candle there with a wave of her hand. She opened her drawer, at the same time dispersing the magical lock that held it shut against prying hands. Her father hadn't believed in locks of any kind, saying that distrust bred distrust, but the princess trusted Ferdinand about as much as she would trust a dark elf right about now.
She removed her royal signet ring and a stick of red seal wax, and a plush red quill. Her fingers tingled slightly at the enchantment on the quill recognized her. It was the oldest artifact known to elven kind, and though it didn't look like much, it had a spell upon it that no one alive today could duplicate, even though the elves are renowned for their long memories. The enchantment only recognized the true ruler, king or queen, no matter who bore the crown. Her ancestor five generations back--the great Warrior Queen, Queen Tethys--had been a servant in the palace, her corrupt uncle having crowned himself king. The quill had disappeared with the death of her father, and it had somehow come to Tethys, communicating with her, in a way. With it and the kingdom's Sword of the Ancient Light, which was enchanted similar to the quill, she had retaken the kingdom. Anyone who was not the true ruler, especially if they were a usurper, would come to a particularly painful end if they touched either the Sword or the quill.
She signed each of the papers, the self-supplied ink sparkling to her Sight, the enchantment plain. No one could forge her signature on papers, because everyone knew to recognize the true signature of a royal. Next, she melted the wax, and stamped each of the now-folded orders. The wax seal was instantly dry, and she dotted the quill in the middle of each--only the one for whom these messages were meant would be able to break the seals.
She stepped outside, handing the papers to Ferdinand. "There, I have stamped and signed them." She noticed he was holding the discarded proposal rather possessively. She twitched a finger and it went up in flames, falling to the floor in a fine white ash. "We had no need of that one." This time she caught the black look that ever so briefly touched his ancient features, before he replaced it with his oily smile. "As you will, Your Hi- Your Majesty." He bowed low to her and walked down the hall, papers in his hand. What is he up to? she wondered, troubled as she closed her door and shed her robes, gathering her leathers. She needed to go for a ride to clear her head and enable her to think.
Minakimonirika · Mon Nov 06, 2006 @ 05:11am · 0 Comments |