The Veneer of Injustice

Part 6

Earth Moon 9, 1527 C.Q

My crown gleaming atop my thick black curls and my emerald-green cape swirling around me, I strode into the throne room. My court armor, burnished silver yet suitable for battle, and my long, lustrous beard both shone in the light of the morning sun, which streamed inside through the large windows set near the ceiling. Yet, though the scene of my entrance could have come from an old tale of the ancient heroes of the princedom, the ministers, generals, head guards, and town overseers assembled for my court had paled with fear at the sight of me.

I suppressed a sigh and maintained my emotionless mask as I took my seat with a sweep of my cape. I rested my back against the back of the throne and placed my arms atop the arms of the throne – my usual firm posture. It was yet another element of the ways that I spoke and acted that was meant to remind the court that I was the one in power and in control.

All the attendees bowed in acknowledgment as I sat and maintained that position until I said curtly, after a long moment, "Rise." At the order, they stood straight again. They would remain standing for the entire court until I would leave. I alone would remain seated.

Pushing back the dissatisfaction with my behavior and my situation that, though it was always present, had grown since last night, I glanced at Melts. That look signaled the beginning of court.

"Your H-Highness," Melts said, struggling today to hide the stutter that years of his service to me was supposed to have eliminated, "the Head of Ministers will facilitate the presentment of weekly reports from the ministers. Then General Arras will give his weekly overview of the military, and Commander Hannes will make his report of the guard corps..." He continued to announce the agenda, which I had dictated to him this morning; the recitation was directed more to the attendees, so that they would know their order of speaking, than to me. My predecessors had introduced this uncertainty, that all the ministers, subordinate agency heads, and town representatives would be expected to attend court but would never know for sure whether they were supposed to speak or not, as another signal that they held all the power of the princedom. I had quietly changed this practice by making the agenda vary only routinely – thus my ministers and chiefs had a solid estimation of their role for the day and were prepared to speak.

As Melts continued with the agenda (which he was expected to memorize in the morning of each day of court and recite by heart), I mused that there was never an appropriate moment for scenes. But, since I did need to make one, I'd have to simply pick a moment.

When Melts was almost two-thirds of the way through his announcement, I raised my hand.

Melts stopped speaking mid-word, and the hall became absolutely silent. Fear tinged the countenances of the members of my court; they seemed to be avoiding even breathing.

It must be done. I mentally braced myself and said, in my usual even voice and with just a hint of a cold edge, "Hannes, did you successfully arrest her?" The question seemed innocuous, but I was the one asking.

Hannes visibly trembled as he answered, fear evident in his eyes as he met my icy blue eyes, "Your Highness, I did not."

Maintaining the evenness but sharpening the cold edge and adding a demeaning tone, I responded, "Were you again frustrated by that mischief-maker? How is he too much of a challenge for my specially trained guards?"

The fear growing on his face, Hannes pursed his lips. "We will improve, Your Highness," he answered, knowing that using the justification of the Just Knight's superiority in battle would be poorly advised.

I raised an eyebrow (one of the very few changes in expression that I displayed). "You have said that since he began becoming a nuisance six years ago. Show me success, Hannes." I was tempted to sigh – eight months after the start of my efforts, my guards had begun to report my more significant rescues in response to my questions about such high-profile arrests. It was a necessary part of my façade, but, because of what I had to say as the prince, the confrontations were becoming progressively more difficult. Bitterly I wondered what I would do when I could no longer succeed in my missions.