"Gentleman, I doubt very much that many have taken the time to do any interpretation as to your roles and positions, and if they had, the north and much of the kingdom south of here might be in considerably better condition."
"She is impertinent, isn't she, Your Majesty?" Lord Roderick asked, chuckling to my grandmother at my side, his teeth bared in a tight smile.
I tensed in my seat, ready to dive back into the argument, heat spiking in my cheeks at being spoken over, but my grandmother's hand grazed against my skirt under the table.
"Impertinent, Roderick? Be wiser with your tongue. Bryony is ambitious in her goals, but she is also your future queen," my grandmother said, and her severity seemed to have the same effect on the older man as it did on me. "And she's not wrong about that budget. I went over it myself."
None of the men across from us at the long table seemed prepared to argue with my grandmother. At least not outrightly.
"Of course, if there is a good harvest, there would be no need for Sir Edge to take assistance. But farming is a delicate business and—"
"It might be left to the farmers," I said, gaining Lord Roderick's flashing glare before he remembered to correct himself.
Wendell sat quietly to my left, silent through the discussion, occasionally nudging me long enough to catch my attention and direct it towards heads bowed and whispering. He was largely responsible for the budget we had arranged, with my grandmother's help and some from Rebecca Sanders, who sat to the left of him. It was a thorough and careful balance of what the people might be expected to spare, with the absolute civic necessities that needed attention for the winter. Grandmother had arranged a refilling of the northern royal coffers so that we could continue to keep the palace running outside of the people's pockets, but it left the local nobility nearly cut off from financial aid.
"This cannot be a permanent state," Lord Roderick said firmly.
"Kimmery cannot flourish if its citizens are kept pinned beneath a boot of poverty," I snapped back. "What taxes can be taken from empty pockets?"
"Homes, property, possessions, bodies into labor camps and the army," Wendell answered softly.
"It stops now," I said, my eyes fixing from one man to the next.
They weren't all glaring back at me. Some looked genuinely shamed, and early in the introductions, I'd heard a man admit that he hadn't bothered coming to a council meeting in over a decade. There was a measure of ignorance to blame in the way things had gone. That and the fact that there hadn't been a will as strong as Lord Roderick's at the table in what I suspected was a very long time.
"Did you call this meeting to negotiate reasonably or to stomp your foot and make demands?" Lord Roderick said, drawing out a few chuckles, several of which sounded nervous.
"This is your second warning, Lord Roderick," my grandmother said lowly. "There won't be a third."
"Your Majesty," he started.
"Don't cajole me. Your position, all of your positions, are granted to you by the crown so that you might lessen our burden. They were not given to you as reward, but as responsibility," Grandmother said.
"Your nobility are your people too, just remember that in the next quarter when you look at your taxes. There is a correct flow to the kingdom's wealth, and you are perverting it," Roderick said coldly. "You will see the trouble it causes before the winter is up. The people must be kept in their place, just as we must."
"People deserve to eat, to keep their homes. I am not offering them yours," I said.
All down the length of the table, men shuddered and looked aghast. Was that really what they were afraid of? Or was that just some of Roderick's poison?
"So be it, Your Highness," Roderick growled.
"I have concerns, Bryony," Grandmother said, watching the last carriage take its leave down the long road that led to the palace.
"About the decisions made today?" I asked, taking some of her weight as we turned on the steps and moved back inside.
"About their repercussions. There's some truth to Roderick's threats. A network of angered nobility will be a powerful tool against you, especially if all you win is a beaten-down collection of citizens."
I thought of the energy of the festival, of the creativity of the vendors, the wealth of generosity of the cooks, and the wild abandon of the dancing.
"They've been mistreated and there's a lot of work to be done, but I think we've underestimated the common people for too long," I said.
Grandmother hummed. "Rebellion can come from many directions."
I sucked on my own teeth in thought as Grandmother and I made a slow trek for the stairs so I could escort her back to her room. Cresswell was guarding my Chosen in my chamber after dinner, but Camellia had stayed suitably entertained with the collection of men she'd gathered from the staff.
I kept thinking of Daniel's story of his friend, of what I'd seen of the Chosen I'd grown up around and how it compared to my own. I couldn't remember a conversation I'd ever held with a Chosen. They were usually either…occupied, or they seemed simply to be waiting to be used.
"Is it…is it right for us to take Chosen?" I asked.
Grandmother's steps faltered, and she huffed as I held her steady. "Bryony, I am not unimpressed with what you've accomplished, but there are limits. You may…may function as you do, but I can assure you that if you have a daughter and she has the Hunger prop—as the rest of us do, she will not be courting men patiently as you have done."
"They courted me patiently. And no, I understand the necessity of the Choosing. I am glad I had mine. I just wish it were less…mandatory? I…heard a rumor about one of Camellia's Chosen growing…"
"We have all been too fervent with our Chosen a time or two," Grandmother said, voice and body equally stiff before slowly relaxing. "It wasn't always mandatory. That was my mother's doing. The herd of volunteers was thinning, and she was…especially voracious." Grandmother sighed, and her hand patted mine firmly. "You may have a point, but I think I prefer your focus on reforming the nobles rather than the queen's line."
She softened the correction with an amused chuckle, and I sighed and nodded.
"I suppose that means I will have to take her with me when I go back," Grandmother mused with a wicked smile. "And here I thought I might leave her behind."
"I will lend you an extra carriage," I said quickly, and Grandmother chortled.
5
Bryony
I tiptoed out of my suite, pausing in the dark hallway as I found Cresswell straightening against the wall across from my door.
"What are you doing out here?" we whispered at the same time.
"Cresswell, when was the last time you were off your shift?" I asked.
He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders. "I catch breaks here and there."
I wracked my brain, eyeing him from the side as I glanced down the hall. When was the last time I'd been attended by a guard that wasn't Cresswell? Since before the incident with Camellia and Owen at least.