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Authors: Kimberly Chapman

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BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
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When seven days had
passed, I was informed that a company of three ragged folk,
claiming to have been invited, had asked to see me. I had the
guards usher them into the Great Hall, where I sat on my throne to
hear them. I had wanted to appear less imperial and meet with them
in my workroom, but Jarik would not allow it. He feared that one of
them could use the opportunity to harm me and insisted that, until
I had worked with them long enough to know them well, I was to meet
only in public, surrounded by guards. Of course, he stood right at
my side, eyeing the three carefully.

There were two men and
one woman. The woman’s name was Oana. She was a mother of two small
children, and her husband had died two winters previously of a
fever that I learned had killed many in the east end. She worked
one day a week as a maid in a nobleman’s home, only on the night
that his usual maid was not working. Oana had about her that
roughened, tired look typical of peasants, but her eyes burned with
sufficient wisdom to understand her lot in life was brutally
unfair. I liked her in an instant.

One of the men was
named Nikal. He was a merchant of clothing, but said he could not
earn a decent living trying to sell quality garments in the east
end and thus had been reduced to selling recycled rags that his
wife tailored to the best of her ability. He was tall and thin,
with oddly long fingers that he tapped together whilst in thought.
I could tell he doubted that an improved marketplace would help
him, but he was polite and interested in giving the plan a try.

The other man, Druin,
was an absolute delight. He had the natural charisma of a leader,
and had he not been born into a poor family and subsequently
orphaned at the tender age of eight, he surely would have been a
well-respected nobleman. He was uneducated, as were most of these
poor folk, but what he lacked in schooling he made up many times in
a knack for logic. He was tall and thin like Nikal but much more
handsome. Druin was one of those men who never fails to make those
around him laugh with odd little jests and a winning smile. He
reminded me a great deal of what Kurit had once been like, and the
thought saddened me. But the good fellow made it difficult to stay
melancholy, so I set aside my heartache and set about planning the
expansion project.

As the season passed
from fall into early winter, I met frequently with Oana, Nikal, and
Druin, and it was not long before Jarik could be persuaded to allow
us to do so in my workroom. I also went on several day-long trips
outside Endren, with Jarik always at my side, to inquire about
various materials. I met with two different quarry owners, both of
whom were willing to bargain for a good price on the white stone.
My prediction was correct in that there had been little call for it
in recent years.

I buried myself in my
work as eagerly as Kurit drowned himself in drink—a habit that had
not waned after all, and one he no longer bothered to hide from me.
During this time, I became aware that his mother often badgered him
where I was concerned. I overheard snippets of conversation in
which she would lecture him on how he should better control my wild
ways and my “ridiculous predilection for throwing money away to the
wretches of Endren”.

Occasionally, he would
tell her to be quiet, but more often than not, he said nothing.
Meanwhile, his increased frustration with her led him to become
cold and distant towards me. I made the choice to not brood over
what seemed to be a dying marriage and instead applied all my
energy to being with my son and working on my project.

By the time of the
mid-winter semi-annual Council meeting, I had a full plan ready to
present. I had budgeted for materials, skilled labour, and every
other cost I could imagine. I had a specific timetable that
provided allowances for minor delays such as inclement weather. I
thought I was prepared for every possible question or doubt that
the Council would have. I was sadly mistaken.

I sat quietly through
most of the meeting, not wanting to raise trouble on any other
issue, lest I anger one of the lords and lead him to vote against
me later. When Kurit finally indicated that I might go ahead with
my presentation to them, I had barely begun when the immediate
prejudice against the poor made itself painfully clear.

“Most charitable
Majesty,” said Lord Bresh of Odlok, “while we respect your noble
intent to help these pathetic people, surely you cannot expect us
to approve any extensive building that benefits them alone?”

“Indeed,” said Lord
Kalren of Estebek, nodding. “We all pity their situation, but to
waste money on such people is not in the best interest of Endren,
let alone the entire nation.”

“Is it better, then, to
do nothing while people in our very capital struggle needlessly?” I
asked.

“No one disputes that
it is a tragedy that some are born into poverty, Your Majesty,”
said Lord Kiene of Asune. “But if you give a dog too many thick
steaks that he has not earned, he will become disobedient and no
longer be satisfied with just a bone.”

I looked at him
incredulously. “Lord Kiene, these are human beings, not dogs.”

“Majesty, that line is
a blurred one at best,” said Bresh.

It took all that I had
not to burst out in anger. How could such otherwise intelligent men
be so absurd? I forced my voice to be low and unwavering as I said,
“I am aghast that you would dare to say such a thing, Lord Bresh.
Tell me, do you have your maids tied up at night to prevent them
from running away?”

Bresh rolled his eyes
at me, infuriating me anew, but again I forced myself to remain
calm. I knew I’d have no chance of winning them over if I became
hysterical. He said, “Majesty, of course not. But copious amounts
of money will not inspire these people to better themselves.”

“She’s not talking
about simply throwing money at the problem, Bresh,” said Lord Cael.
“Perhaps if you would do Her Majesty the courtesy of allowing her
to at least present her full proposal to us, you would better be
able to discuss the matter.”

“Well, at least we know
you’re not biased, Cael,” said Kalren acidly. “You northerners have
the oddest notions about how to run a nation. I hear you pay for
physicians for the poor in Staelorn and the training of orphans in
Academies instead of workhouses.”

“Don’t include me with
their plans,” Kiene quickly said.

The Council quickly
broke down after that into petty territorial bickering until Kurit
shouted over them to be quiet. “Enough! Let Aenna have her say;
then we shall discuss the feasibility of her plans.”

After that rough start,
I found I had to work diligently at sounding confident. I made eye
contact most often with Cael, who favoured me frequently with
subtle smiles and nods. Lady Aelwin also listened politely, though
most of the others seemed ready to scoff.

As I concluded, I
steadied myself for the inevitable onslaught of disapproval. To my
great delight, Chancellor Kren spoke up with admiration and
interest. “It’s high time someone did something about the east
end,” he said. “Even if your notions of a better market fail to
come to fruition, at least the greater space will make it easier
for the guards to keep an eye on things. Crime in that area has
become unmanageable. And I am glad to hear that you have planned to
build the new wall before tearing down the old. That is a wise
course.”

“Chancellor, I respect
that you wish to improve your own city, but I cannot understand how
you expect us to pay for it,” said Bresh. “Kordolos needs
improvements as well. We have a poor area, and I don’t see anyone
rushing to fix it

“When my plan is proven
successful, Lord Bresh, I would be delighted to help you all apply
it to other cities as you see fit,” I said eagerly. “It would
please me greatly to do so. This is not solely for the benefit of
the poor of Endren. This is a proposal to bring opportunity for
prosperity to everyone in Keshaerlan. As one city is improved and
the local economy with it, we will be better able to afford
improvements to the next city, and so on to the next. I’m not
requesting charity. I’m requesting the chance to help these people
help themselves.”

“What makes you think
they’ll take the opportunity?” asked Bresh. “We all know very well
that the poor are poor because they lack the wit and desire to work
for a proper living.”

My blood boiled, but I
bit my tongue.

“Think carefully about
what you say, Bresh,” Cael growled. “Your words border on
treason.”

“Treason?” asked the
Odlok Lord. “To speak the truth that the poor make their own lot in
life? Pah! You’re only defending this nonsense because you’re
partial to a fellow Aleshan.”

Cael thumped his fist
down on the table. “A fellow Aleshan that you would have formerly
dismissed as witless and lazy, by your prejudice.”

Bresh’s face changed as
he realized that he had forgotten my background. He looked to me
and said, “Your Majesty, surely you know that I don’t include you
in that description.”

“You may not have
intended to insult me personally with your condemnation, Bresh, but
your easy dismissal of the poor as stupid and worthless does burn
my ears,” I said, keeping a level voice despite my yearning to
scream at him. “A twist of fate allows me to be here in this room
with you today. It is as possible for a poor woman to be
intelligent and hard-working as it is for a nobleman to be petty
and foolish.”

“Agreed,” said Aelwin.
“There will undoubtedly be those who take unfair advantage of the
improvements, but those who work hard deserve the chance to do so
profitably. I would like some time to better study your budgets and
projections, Majesty, but I will say now that I approve of the idea
in principle.”

“Which is why these
meetings were better off in my father’s time when women were
excluded,” grumbled Bresh.

“Very good, Bresh,”
said Kurit in a mocking tone. “In the space of half of an hour, you
have managed to insult Maellans, the poor, all women, and my wife
in particular. Would you care to make your day complete and tell me
next that I’m a fool for supporting her plan?”

Despite the problems
Kurit and I were having in our personal lives, I wanted to kiss him
right then for his words. My anger left me. I caught Cael’s eye at
the other end of the table, and he smiled as though he knew how
much Kurit’s words had meant to me. I wondered if he was aware at
all of our unstable relationship.

Bresh muttered an
annoyed apology to Kurit and the rest of us. I could see that there
were still others who remained unconvinced, and it was hard to tell
whether those who had not spoken were for or against my plan.

A call was made for a
vote to give preliminary approval to the plan, pending further
study on the details. I sat breathless as those around the table
each in turn indicated “yes” to approve the plan or “no” to deny
it. Chancellor Kren quickly said, “Yes,” followed by Kiene and
Kalren’s votes to “no.” Cael of course made good on his promise to
always support me, and the otherwise quiet Lord Mishkel voted “yes”
as well.

I was not surprised
when both Oddotok and Bresh put the count to four against and three
in approval. Maekol tapped his fingers on the table in
consternation, clearly struggling with the decision. Finally, he
said, “Yes,” and Aelwin and Fontden followed suit. Kurit and I of
course both added our votes of “yes,” though I was already
delighted to realize that our agreement wasn’t even needed to win.
The total thus came to eight in approval and four against; a
doubled majority!

When the meeting ended
shortly thereafter, I realized it was quite late at night. After
gathering my papers together, I took them to my workroom. I saw
Kurit’s door open on my way out, so I peeked inside.

He was drinking. It
occurred to me that he had gone without a drop for several hours
and might very well have prevented himself from having any before
the meeting as well. I hoped he would not be irritable. I knocked
softly, and he looked up at me.

I entered, closing his
door behind me and smiling at him. “Kurit, I wanted to thank you
for defending me in the meeting tonight. It meant a great deal to
me.”

He set his glass down
and sat. “I told you before that I supported your idea. What, did
you think I’d give you my approval only to withdraw it in front of
the council?”

Indeed, it seemed he
was irritable. I tried to calm him. “No, Kurit, that’s not what
I—”

“You imagine me to be
some sort of wretch who would sit idly by while they insulted
you.”

“No! I just came in
here to—”

“To point out again
that I’ve been doing a miserable job of being your husband?”

“Kurit, stop!” I said,
trying not to shout in the late hour. “I came to say thank you for
what you said and—”

“And that it surprised
you?”

I sighed and clasped my
hands at my aching chest. “I was going to say, ‘and I love you for
it’,” I whispered. Sadly, I shook my head and left his
workroom.

Jarik stood outside,
and by the look on his face I knew he had overheard at least some
of what had been said. He followed me as I went up the stairs
towards the south wing. I heard Kurit call my name, but I was so
weary of these stupid fights that I ignored his call and
continued.

When I arrived at my
door, Jarik put his hands gently on my shoulders and said, “I heard
you fighting but not what was said. What has he said to you
now?”

I shook my head and
tried to avoid looking at his concerned face. “I can’t bear to talk
about it. Go. I want to lock myself in my room before he comes
chasing after me for another empty apology. Don’t stay here. I will
go mad if I hear you fighting with him. Go, Jarik. Leave me
here.”

BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
8.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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