APRIL SYLKRANA, the only daughter of the High Queen, has to make things right. When a series of assassinations breaks out in the Imperial City, April takes matters into her hands and investigates, distracting her from a plot against her and the crow...
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2407 Xavem 16, Velpa
"Why in Pidmena's name do we need to import more jasclume ores when we could just use the ones we find in Aphesa?" April demanded, the recent proposals in the court meeting pissing her off more than necessary.
The summary of her current endeavor included these Advisers thinking it was nice to incur more expenses by way of importation and border tariffs. They have been pushing for it for the whole week that on the fourth day, April snapped.
Beside her, Elami's face contorted into an urgent scowl. "Sit down, April," the Potentate hissed, her tone reminiscent of a suncrown about to strike. "We get your point and I agree that we should be mainly self-sufficient. But I also hear a failing in the local metal we use to make our soldiers' armors."
April scoffed as she followed Elami's subtle warning. "It wasn't like we're at war," she crossed her arms over her chest. "Those buzzheads can hold out with just a few chinks in their armor. We have more pressing issues at hand. For example, the low yield of our fields because of the recent blizzard blowing over Aphesa. If we don't act on it by buying grain or something, people will starve."
Adviser Ardan bobbed his head. "Well, I'll have the disaster management department look into it," he said. "So how many tons of jasclume shall we relay to Avalora?"
April's vision flashed red. Her chair skidded against the marble floor as she shot up with force. The palms of her hands made a booming sound against the table when she slammed them down. A few flinched but most Advisers weren't thrilled.
"If you want to plunge Falkirta into territorial debt because of your skewed and apparently mindless priorities, be my guest," she seethed. "I won't be dragged down with you witches. I'll handle the grains. Don't dare get in my way if you want to have your head attached to your necks at the end of the day."
Before anyone could say anything, April whirled on her heels and marched out of the room. A snort of indignation burst from her nose. Department of Disaster Management? There wasn't even such a thing. If those fools thought of her still as the maige-cutter-bearing child twenty years ago, they were wrong. They had never been more wrong. April would scythe through their ranks like an unforeseen judgment. Just they wait.
Let them enjoy the few days of power they have left.
Besides, what's the use of jasclume ores in the first place? The last time April heard of those was from the ore records discovered in Avalora's numerous mines. Jasclume ores were malleable to a fault but they could be harder than normal pyxade found in the mountains of Aphesa once they're cooled to a certain notch. Sure, with the weather in Falkirta being blistering cold at times, it would be ideal. But should those soldiers make it down to Lanbridhr or Alkara, their armor would be only as good as cake slathered over their clothes.
It was idiotic at best. Plus, jasclume was a recently discovered asset, meaning its prices were still sky-high with no state-sanctioned prices yet. This could prove a problem since Falkirta's territorial coffers weren't that much and they're willing to use it for something else when a more pressing thing was served on a platter and waved underneath their noses.
