The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 47: A Friend Like That

Nemia's nerves had been building for days. She had no way of knowing if her letter had reached Morie, or if it would even make a difference. The soothing fact that Xalva was no longer skulking in the dungeons beneath her feet, tempting her into the darkness and trading secrets, was overwhelmed by knowing he was stalking Morie instead.

She'd often wished that she could just roll Morie up in a blanket and put her up on a high shelf where no one could reach her and she'd stop getting herself in trouble. When she'd told Morane that, of course, she'd snorted-- "Like that would stop me."

It probably wouldn't.

She could only hope Morie was being more cautious in Maenar, and keeping far away from any assassins.

With a sigh, she helped herself to her second cup of tea from the tray and focused back on the conversation.

"It's just that the Perivals are notorious for doing things like this," Magali was saying. "With some reason, perhaps. Being the family designated to provide nearly all of the crown's weapons would tend to make you rather paranoid. But demanding more guards with no proof of what they're claiming?"

Irina nodded. "Oh, I agree. But after our last conversation I looked into their history of claiming they're being threatened. You have to admit, they've never been this insistent before."

Nemia started as Irina brushed the back of her hand. "I don't suppose you have any ideas, Nemia?"

"I... I don't know. What's the cost of giving them what they want?"

"In terms of manpower to send them extra guards," Magali mused. "Not much. But in showing them and other noble families that the crown will bow to their demands if they're just annoying enough? Too high to risk."

"Absolutely," Irina agreed again. Irina was always agreeing. "After all, this is your problem. If you give in, you send a message not about your father but about you."

Nemia swirled the tea around her cup, watching Magali pull back into the couch slightly. She was clearly terrified of losing even an inch of the power she'd gained.

"I guess it comes down to the kind of ruler you want to be," she said without thinking.

Irina shot her a look from the corner of her eye, a clear sign she should rethink what she was about to say.

Nemia backtracked her thoughts quickly-- telling Magali she was on the brink of deciding whether she would be the kind of queen to consider and answer to her subjects' needs or the kind to maintain her authority at all costs was probably not what she needed to hear.

"I mean... are you going to play by the rules, or are you going to make your own?"

"That sounds like something Morane would say." Magali smoothed her skirts nervously.

It really did, Nemia reflected. But who knew Morie better than she did?

She shrugged. "Morie's good at seeing all the angles of a problem. You need to find a new perspective." Feeling she'd contributed enough, she leaned forward to select a cookie from the tray. In the corner of her eye Irina and Magali exchanged a look. They wanted more. What was she, a royal problem solver?

Still, it was an interesting puzzle, and she was feeling friendly toward them for having gotten her out of another day of exhausting training. "What kind of deal can you make with them?"

"What kind of...?" Magali blinked.

Nemia adjusted the folds of her dress, borrowed from Irina again. "They want more guards pretty badly, apparently. Tell them you're willing to make some kind of deal. You can get them what they want without seeming weak, if you get something in return."