For the Good of the Realm: Stories of Power and Defiance by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lagrange Books
Published: 2022-12-01T04:00:00+00:00

The journey to Smaskaya was tiresome. A week’s ride from Lironna up the river to the port of Malirei, above the cataracts, where they took ship across the Shallow Sea. Another week at that, then two months on wagons from the sea’s edge to Smaskaya’s border; another two weeks on horseback to reach Crowned City. The roads were well-tended and as safe as peace-bond patrols could make them.

All in all, the three months were so endlessly boring that Aderon finished a draft of his memoirs; a limited printing was well within the expected indulgences of a man of his age and station. The memoirs were boring as well, but writing them passed the time.

He set the draft aside outside Crowned City’s borders, devoting the last day to preparing for his presentation at the court. He called for a haircut and shave, had his formal court clothes aired and perfumed, and ordered the chests of gifts for both the Lironnan women and the Smaskayan court unpacked and inventoried. Those tasks complete, he turned to the matter of his memorizing his speech.

Fortunately, these matters were dictated word-for-word by protocol; the speech had been written a hundred years before and he only had to re-familiarize himself with the phrasing and rehearse his pauses and emphasis. Those were where the true diplomatic arts lay, these days: spinning an identical phrase in a hundred different ways to convey the true meaning of your message. It required concentration, but not thought. Despite his efforts, his mind could wander.

He remembered his final briefing before leaving Lironna, in the Council Chamber again with the Duke and Dona a’Ylesant. The Dona had smiled at him and made a pretty little verbal joust about spies and diplomats. “Both carry messages on silken tongues, your Excellency,” she had said. “You’ll do fine.”

“I believe the saying is silver tongues, is it not, Dona?” he had asked, and she had dissolved in laughter, far more than the riposte deserved. She had waved off his request for an explanation, saying only that his reply was more appropriate than he knew, then offered him blessings for the voyage and took herself off to her tasks. He had stood there a moment, unsure if he was offended or not, before shrugging the feeling away. He was too old to learn these new ways of women, and the young, and his own home city. They were all foreign to him now, in a way that felt more numb than aching.

There was no more time to dwell on it now, far away once again, as likely to die on his journey home as to return. To bed, to rest, and in the morning, to court.

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