Her Rightful Place

24: The Queen

"Your Highness, I realize that you have only just returned, but Her Majesty the Queen has demanded your presence at once in the antechamber of the Torture Wing," a butler informs Prince Xavier as he hands his horse's reins to the nearest stable boy. Jerôme and Enzo simultaneously straighten their spines and raise one eyebrow inquiringly. Xavier suppresses a snort of laughter at the similarity between dog and master.

"Whatever for?" Jerôme questions.

"She did not say, Your Excellency, but I presume it will be about your recent journey to Vyrunia. She has spoken of naught but that and her latest torture devices since your departure. Make haste. She is more impatient than usual."

"All right, all right. Jerôme, see if you can break the innocents out of their confines while I speak with her, please," Xavier sighs. He had hoped for at least an hour or two to take a nap and further plan this confrontation, but that simply is not to be. He rushes to the biggest room in the West Wing, which has been converted to Queen Bêtel's personal torture chambers since the mysterious death of King Tristan, Xavier's father. In the centre of the room, Queen Bêtel is lobbing rotten tomatoes at an unfortunate servant, whom she has locked into a pillory.

"You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?" Xavier murmurs respectfully with a bow. Queen Bêtel turns on him angrily but immediately brightens at the sight of her son and drops the rotten fruit, needless punishment of servants forgotten.

"Of course I did! How did things go with the Vyrunians? I presume you have a new betrothal contract to show me? And how is the Princess? You did get to become reacquainted with her, did you not?" the Queen asks all in one breath, such is her excitement.

"King Christophe and Queen Généviève are doing quite well, and they send their good wishes for your own health and fortune. I must say, their kingdom has vastly improved since last I visited, and their trade has flourished. We would do quite well to form an alliance with them, the sooner the better. And I did get to speak briefly with Princess Mireille, and she is the loveliest maiden with whom I have ever had the pleasure of conversing. Regrettably, an embassy from Khandazar was also present to woo the Princess as a bride for their Grand Chancellor, and naturally Their Majesties could not openly favor me over them without the risk of starting another war, which I daresay would ruin their economy and the stability of their thrones--"

"What nonsense is this?! I thought for certain that no one else would be there so early, especially with it being common knowledge that Vyrunia and Mordalce have mutually sought an alliance for well nigh a century and a half! Of course they could have openly favored you! Nothing would have been more proper, especially in front of the Khandazarian scum!"

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, King Christophe and Queen Généviève handle matters of diplomacy slightly differently than you do."

"They always were rather daft, although nice enough. Imagine, treating a Khandazarian embassy as equal to the Prince of the most powerful realm in the world! Such a thing would never happen under my roof. And I suppose that there is no betrothal contract? Did you even mention such a thing, you blithering idiot?"

"Of course I did. Their Majesties promised me that they would consider it and be in touch sometime in the near future. To speed things along, I propose reinstating the Midsummer's Eve Ball and explicitly inviting Their Majesties and the admirable Princess Mireille as our guests of honor."

"Of all the ridiculous, half-baked, pitiful excuses for crackpot ideas that manage to emerge from your thick skull--"

"Please hear me out, Your Majesty. The ball would take place in roughly two months, which should be enough time for Princess Mireille to once again become accustomed to royal life, after her lengthy absence from her rightful place. The ball would be seen as her debut in royal society, and naturally you could discuss the betrothal with King Christophe and Queen Généviève while I woo the Princess. Besides, you have not entertained in many years, and people have begun to gossip about it. Hosting the ball would be a fabulous opportunity for you to enhance your reputation and the splendor of your reign. It would be the event of the decade!" Queen Bêtel pauses for several moments, considering Xavier's arguments as she tosses a spoiled cabbage into the air over and over again.

"Xavier, for once in your life you are not completely useless to me. Hosting the ball would be a brilliant tactical maneuver. I'm so glad I thought of it. Thank you for your assistance. You will find my Advisers immediately and send them to me so that we may begin negotiating. I warrant the old grey-beards will want to put a limit on my spending. Hop to it! Get out of my sight! Why are you still here?" Xavier bows hastily and backs swiftly out of the room, narrowly avoiding being hit by the cabbage and some other refuse. Jerôme emerges from the shadows, a few grateful servants close behind him.

"Well, I daresay that went rather better than I thought it would. You quite called how the conversation would go, also. I admire your foresight. I shall fetch the Advisers for you. Go to bed. You need sleep more than I do," Jerôme remarks.

"Thank you, Jerôme. I am grateful to you."

"You are also exhausted, and your regular duties will resume in the morning. Get moving."

Xavier grins. "Yes, Your Excellency."

Jerôme smirks, enjoying his momentary power. The servants simply stand in a bewildered cluster, wondering when this role reversal began and whom to thank for their rescue.

"Move along now, unless you want to go back down there," Jerôme orders them. "That is precisely where you will be if the Queen catches you standing around here." They bow and scuttle away, murmuring their thanks, fear overpowering bewilderment.