Lèse-majesté

Part 9

Chapter 8

A steaming cup of Jasmine tea was brought to pale pursed lips as Prince Grimmel listened to a report early in the morning in his office.

"..... trying to procure supplies but the farms can't keep up with the demand." A gruff voice stated. "Your Highness, maybe you should postpone this campaign until next year. Not only do we need the crops to survive the coming winter months but there have been floods in the east and droughts in the west. The grain is sparse as it is. If we take anymore the people will suffer greatly. Earl Deranged has been making waves during the council meetings lately. Many nobles are of like-mindedness that this will be a foolish endeavor."

The Prince's fist slammed on the wooden desk he was seated behind yet the man giving his report didn't flinch at all. "It's Earl Deranged again," Grimmel hissed as his eyes narrowed. "One would think that he would fall in line after we ruined his sister's reputation."

"The Earl is the least of your problems, your Highness," The messenger gruffly said. "The Royal treasury is near depleted."

"Yes, yes I know Drago. I'm working on that." Grimmel angrily announced. "You just focus on the tasks that I've given you."

"There is one more thing to report, your Highness," Drago announced. Even though the prince looked calm and composed, those who actually knew him could see the annoyed look in his eyes.

"What is it?"

"Yesterday night a carriage left the estate of the Dowager Consort." Drago announced. "The men I've stationed nearby have reason to believe that the Dowager Consort is making her way to the Dowager Regent's estate."

"That is inconsequential." Grimmel huffed. "Neither my great aunt nor my grandmother have any political power left. I made sure of that."

"But it's strange, my Prince! These women have not spoken to each other in over two decades! What's more the Dowager Consort is of Berk, the very Kingdom you plan to go to war with."

"The Dowager Consort was nothing but an insipid girl who volunteered to marry my grandfather in exchange for her Kingdom's safety. Her beauty lasted only until she bore my grandfather a child and that was a girl. Such a disappointment." Grimmel tisked. "She couldn't even bear him a son and was later forgotten."

"But...."

"You are dismissed, Drago. I hope you have better news for me next time." Grimmel announced, sipping his tea again as Drago frowned but retreated from the room.

"You know, you should really heed the words of your advisor." A voice stated from behind. Grimmel turned his head towards the large bay windows to see Krogan merrily lounging against the marble balustrade in the early morning sun. His purple hood was covering most of his face and he was cleaning his nails with the tip of his dagger, or one of his daggers Grimmel assumed. "After all, that man has been here in the palace even before your father became king."

"He worries over some women," Grimmel scoffed. "Can you imagine that, women? Those weak creatures aren't even worth my consideration." he then stood up and turned fully towards Krogan. "Krogan, we live in a society where women are but livestock to be traded within political alliances or debt settlement. They are of no consequence."

"Then what of Lady Arkas?! You adore her," Krogan asked as his brows furrowed.

"I only adore her to the point of her usefulness," Grimmel declared. "Enough about that. Has the Berkian delegation not made its move yet?"

"No, not yet," Krogan replied. None could see his eyes but there had been a glint of rage and fury in it on the behalf of Lady Arkas. Looking back at Grimmel he could see that the Crown Prince was extremely frustrated that the Berkians hadn't moved yet. So far that part of the plan seemed to be on hold. "Maybe they don't know where to look." Krogan suggested. "If my men spread a few rumors and you have it fight in the arena before the Founders Day celebrations...."