‘If she’s unsatisfactory, you can take over.’ I paused, then threw out my last gambit. ‘Surely you agree it’s time for a new generation to prove themselves?’
Coin relaxed. A new young monarch, eager to promote those her own age, was someone he recognised and could handle. And if I was proven wrong – well, it was more leverage for him that I needed his guidance. ‘Very well. Her father was satisfactory’ – high praise from Coin – ‘but her mother does come from a distinguished banking background. What about a trial run, Your Majesty? A month, then we’ll review her performance?’
‘Agreed. That will be all.’ He rose and bowed. When he reached the door, I added, ‘And Master Coin?’
He froze.
I tapped the paper with my aunt’s outrageous budgets. ‘After my aunt and I have discussed her lifestyle expectations, I believe we have the necessary money for your raise.’
Coin opened and closed his mouth, then: ‘Your Majesty…’
‘You may leave.’
It wasn’t bribery when the Queen ordered it. Or so I assured myself.
Everyone, no matter their noble intentions, had a price.
Chapter Six
Xania
Coin’s temper had been short today, his instructions clipped and incomplete. Everyone had given him a wide berth. Now we were the last ones in the Treasury.
‘Up here, Bayonn,’ he said. ‘Now.’
The Queen had warned me to prepare for this. It hadn’t made it easier. I’d worked hard to prove myself since joining the Treasury, determined to get promoted on my own merits. She’d ruined my efforts with barely a raised eyebrow.
From the tight set of Coin’s mouth, he was either proud or furious with me. Maybe both. With him, they were often two sides of the same… well, coin.
He tapped his pen against his blotter. Not a good sign.
‘Bayonn, how did you attract Her Majesty’s notice?’
‘I impressed her.’ Not the smartest thing I’d ever done.
Coin jabbed the pen nib into the blotter. ‘Never impress a Queen.’
‘I’ll take that into consideration for the next one.’
He graced me with a raised eyebrow and a faint smile, then stood. ‘Follow me. Her Majesty requested that I trust you with new duties, and I am her servant.’
I followed him up the spiralling steps behind his desk.
The Treasury grew every few years: the paperwork and records constantly demanded more space. When the rooms strained at the seams, they’d looked up instead, carving mezzanines between the higher floors, looping stairs into the gaps to connect them.
Coin liked to tell visitors the groaning shelves would probably collapse, eventually, and kill us.
Two floors up, he unlocked a door I hadn’t been allowed through before. The smell of old paper and older parchment hung in the air. A large table took up most of the room, surrounded by walls of locked drawers. Splashes of colour and engraved symbols beside the keyholes denoted the shelving systems. Only Coin fully knew how it all cross-referenced. It wasn’t enough to become Master of Coin through bribery or outside influence; without knowledge and experience, the Treasury would devour itself within days.
‘Sit,’ Coin said.
I faced a stack of paper, pens, and ink.
He sat opposite me. ‘I will speak. You will take notes.’
I’d had sessions like this with my supervisors. They examined my Treasury knowledge, drilled me on how to respond to unusual paperwork, or nobles digging their heels in against the reality of their finances: everything I needed to know to rise up the ranks. Being examined by Coin would be harder, but not impossible.
When he finally paused for breath, ink splattered my papers and trembling fingers. A steady ache throbbed behind my right eye.
‘Take a moment, Bayonn.’
I cleaned my fingers. ‘If this is what the Queen’s weekly meetings are like, why would anyone want to rule?’
‘Excellent question,’ Coin said. ‘Welcome to duty’s pretty chain. Why are we concerned about the potential southern drought?’
‘It could threaten the harvests.’ Coin had recommended increased port trading to soften the blow, but – ‘If they’re affected, the Queen will have to buy grain. If Farezi realises our harvests are failing, they’ll raise their grain prices.’ And Coin would have to find the money somewhere, regardless, so people could still eat bread.
The long, curt lesson of droughts, and harvests, and upset nobles – everything feeding into everything – made my head spin. My usual grumbling about paperwork and budgets felt puny. The Queen was the heart of Edar, but when the Treasury felt pain it affected everything else.
The Treasury’s funds depended not only on taxes, but on nobles approaching Coin for loans instead of the banks. I’d never truly realised how much Coin had to be aware of so everything ran smoothly. No part of the precarious balance under his control could fail.
Not even the groaning shelves.
Coin frowned, and reached for one of the many sets of keys on his belt. He eased a key off and held it out. ‘Do not make me regret this, Bayonn.’
It was reassuringly solid in my palm. The symbols carved into the head corresponded to the drawers it opened. Coin guarded access to his kingdom jealously. Those directly under him who’d worked here the longest had keys to specific rooms or records, but still had only a combined fraction of access. No one could loan a key to someone else. It meant the rest of us had to run around to get any necessary extra files. It made for frustrated, long days, but you adapted to Coin’s methods or didn’t work for him.
I was years away from getting any key. Or I had been. ‘You honour me, sir.’
‘No. I honour our Queen.’
Someone knocked on the main doors below. We stared at each other. No one visited the Treasury this late at night.
‘Stay here.’ Coin hurried downstairs as the knocking turned into pounding.
I crept towards the railings and crouched to peer down at the main floor. Coin’s cat – a mass of silky black and white fur, known only as Coin’s cat despite all the names people had tried over the years, and just as grumpy as him – crept out from wherever she’d been hiding, and butted her head against my legs until I scratched behind her ears.
He flung open the doors. ‘What?’
‘Master Coin.’
I stiffened at Lady Brenna’s voice. She and Lord Hazell were influential Government members – and Vigrante’s closest allies. To reach him, you went through them first.
‘Lady Brenna.’ Coin’s voice held a note of surprise. ‘This is unexpected.’ He stepped back to let her into the room.
Her pale brown curls tumbled around her shoulders. She flicked at imaginary creases on her green dress. ‘A word in your office, please,’ she said. ‘I’m not on Vigrante’s business.’ Her tone didn’t quite ring true.
‘Of course.’ Coin sounded wary. He led her to his office, which he only used for meetings, preferring to supervise us while he worked. The door shut, almost decisively, as if warning me not to eavesdrop.
I sighed and returned to the room, the cat chirping as she raced ahead.