Collaterals

An Open Correspondence

"And what matters might they be?" Leila hoped her voice sounded strong despite knowing that her Aradian accent, while better, was still heavy. 

Advisor Nabil gestured for her to sit down, "Please."

Leila sat and watched as the council of older men followed. 

"Her highness said the Imperial Crown Prince is to visit?"

Leila nodded, "His Imperial Highness, Prince Aurelius."

"Yes," the Advisor to Diplomacy nodded. "And...how would the Honorable Hand suggest we receive him?"

Leila raised a brow, "Are you asking me how to plan a the reception of the Prince, Advisor Nabil?"

He glanced to the side, blankly, "Not...in so many words. Shall I arrange a welcoming in Diastrop? A ball here in the Capitol? A banquet? How does his Imperial Highness wish to be received?"

"And how much are we expected to spend on the reception?" Advisor Mostafa chipped in, frowning at the paper in front of him.

"How many men should I employ for his safety?" Advisor Hafiz asked.

"And how many men are we expected to house?" Advisor Nabil added, onodding to the Advisor of defense earnestly.

Leila looked to the men, dumbfounded. 

"Your...Highness?"

She'd simply... not thought of such things. A Hand was a messenger, but Leila was beginning to realize it was much more. A messenger and, seemingly, a glorified party planner. She sighed into her seat, looking down for a moment if only to hide the slither of humor now sliding through the corners of her mouth. Oh to be Zarqa, left to the whims of her flame, or Haitham, to the whims of his pleasures, or even Boody, to the whims of childhood. But no. Leila winced at the feel of her fire, trickling to the surface of her skin. It does that, often, now that the cuffs were off.

She heard today's Diviner step closer from where he stood by the Captain's side, behind her. Always behind her, always mere steps away. 

"Honorable Hand, shall we fetch you some water?"

Leila looked up, finally, looking to the three men who had not spoken, "Councilmen, have you not any questions to ask?"

Advisors Umran, Adel, and Ezzat— the advisors to health, justice, and education respectively— simply blinked at her. Only Advisor Adel spoke up, "I shall send the Honorable Hand a pamphlet. Regarding the execution. Perhaps her highness would wish to view it."

She gave a slow nod.

"Then, by your leave, I'd excuse myself."

The other two men followed, bowing before they left. Leila waited till the door clicked shut behind her. She looked to the other men, "His Imperial highness is to grace us soon, and so there is little time for a Ball. Invite the Lords and Ladies that reside in the city for a banquet. A large one. We would not wish to offend his Imperial highness." 

"Certainly," Advisor Nabil nodded.

"Yes, certainly, "Advisor Moustafa agreed. He inched closer, eyes skittish as he failed to look at Leila directly, "Only...With the 12% increase in taxes due...I fear, well." He cleared his throat, straightening his back as he seamed to gather courage. Leila was struggling not to roll her eyes. He frowned, "I must advise we be careful. Our coffers need time to reimburse."

Leila cocked her head at the table ahead of her. To her right was Advisors Nabil and Moutsafa, the men separated by a chair. To her left was only Advisor Hafiz, who looked at her with a distinct squint to his eyes. 

Leila looked straight ahead, at the chair father had sat on mere moments ago. "Our coffers will need...much more than time, Advisor, to reimburse if we fail to please the Heir to our Empire, no?"

She looked to him, now. "I'm certain we can afford a banquet."

He gulped, his voice a squeak as he forced the words out, "And housing. Transportation. Extra staff and gaurd—"

"A week, at most, Advisor." Leila raised her chin, "Borrow from the noble houses, if you must."

"We already did. To meet the taxation. I fear that if we ask for more, we will anger the gracious Lords. We already have the anger of the people—"

Leila grit her teeth.

Advisor Nabil put a hand on the table as he cut off the Advisor to Commerce, "What our Dear Advisor to Commerce means to say is that we will take the appropriate measures. We shall shower the streets in flowers and wine, if need be. But, perhaps the hand can use the Imperial Prince's visit to discuss the taxation? You are old friends, no?"

Leila winced. She clutched the edge of the marble armrest uncomfortably, "We spent most our childhood together, yes. But the Prince has spent many years in travel, at sea. We have not spoken in quite a while."

"Still," he nodded, flashing the diplomatic smile Leila imagined he practiced in the mirror at night. "I dare say our Dear honorable Hand is quite charming. I cannot imagine the two of you would not be on good terms."

Unimpressed, the Princess gave a single nod at the man before looking to Advisor Hafiz, who's eyes were two coals, glistening with a type of quite intellect as he met her gaze. An observative man, Leila was beginning to understand. "You shall spare not a moment of preparation. There cannot be a single misstep. Certainly nothing like what I had upon my arrival."

He stayed still, a moment, as though the weight of his previous failure was just now settling onto his shoulders. He gave a nod, "Certainly, Honorable Hand. And...of the taxes?"

Leila frowned. These damned taxes.

"Is his Imperial highness here to...collect?"

Leila stilled. She had not thought of that. And...she remembered enough of Aurelius that she knew he would not respond to her letter. The Imperial Prince, she remembered, had a tendency to enjoy keeping those around him on the tips of their toes.

Leila sighed. "We should be prepared for that, as well. Block the streets, if you have to. The coffers must make their way to his ships safely. Prepare to dispatch three of our own ships, to accompany him to Tain."

The Advisor nodded.

And with that, she stood, the men clambering to their feet. "If that is all, gentlemen, then let us agree to keep an open correspondence—"

"Oh, yes, an open correspondence is just what defines proper diplomatic ties—!" Advisor Nabil was quick to quite at a raise of Leila's brow. He cleared his throat, nodding politely, "Pardon."

Leila spoke with a sigh, "I will wait to hear of the preparations."