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“Excellent observations, Tully,” Cliopher said. “Make sure you write them up and have them ready for tomorrow’s meeting.”
Tully nodded, blushing a bit at the faint praise. Cliopher’s team of secretaries was still new, and none of them had quite adjusted to the attention. He dismissed the team to their evening duties, then looked over to Kiri. “Were we ever that young and unsure of ourselves?” he asked quietly, watching them scurry around the office. The place was finally emptying out as night fell, the last few pages heading out with their messages.
Kiri snorted. “I’ve never been that young and you’ve never been that unsure. It’s good to see them starting to get a handle on things in the palace, though. Give them a few more crises and they should be ready for anything.”
Cliopher shook his head. “We’ve been through enough crises for now, I think.” His Radiancy was recovering well and getting stronger by the day, but those sleepless nights right after his heart attack were still too close to joke about.
Clipher frowned as he came across a slim stack of unlabeled letters. He flipped through them - aristocratic names, but nobody he worked with directly. Mostly women, a few men, and a truly dizzying array of colored inks and perfumes. “What’s this pile? They’re addressed to me, but they weren’t in the prioritized report.” He opened the letters and skimmed them. Each was extremely complimentary, almost fawning in their intensity, and included a request to solve a minor problem. None of the issues sounded very difficult, but they also weren’t really the sort of thing that needed a Lord Chancellor. “Are all these nobility wanting to order me around for fun?”
“At least some of them, I bet,” Kiri said. “They certainly want something from you.”
Cliopher frowned. “These sorts of requests should be coming through proper channels, not sent directly to the Chancellor’s office. Are family rivalries stopping them from speaking to their respective Princes?” He held one letter up for a closer look. “And why should the Chancellor’s office be interested in a potentially magical pre-Fall artwork? That’s a concern for the Treasury or the Ouranatha.”
Kiri rolled her eyes. “Cliopher, Saya Orana is asking you to her private chambers. To see an etching.”
“Yes, but why? I don’t know the first thing about magical art, and she has no reason to think I would. We met when she was presented at Court, she seemed like an intelligent woman from our conversation. I quite liked her.”
“It sounds like the feeling was mutual,” Kiri said. “She’s propositioning you, Cliopher.”
Cliopher blinked. “In a letter? To my office ?”
“Maybe she realized you never leave the office,” Kiri said with a grin.
Cliopher shook his head. “I’m sure that isn’t it. Nobody would read this extremely long, officious, and high-handed letter and take from it any romantic interest.”
Kiri cleared her throat, and the secretaries looked up as one. She waved the letters in one hand. “The stack in the second pigeonhole, what sort of letters are these?”
“The ones from people who aren’t crackpots, but don’t need help from our office.”
Cliopher nodded, satisfied. “Indeed, well-sorted.”
Kiri held up a finger to silence him. “And?”
There was a brief pause, before Gaudy gave an almost inaudible sigh and answered. “And who are flirting with Lord Mdang.”
Cliopher grabbed the letters from a triumphant Kiri and scanned them again. “All of them?”
The secretaries nodded, then let poor Gaudy continue the explanation. “Definitely, sir. We put the letters from people who aren’t crackpots, don’t need help, but want to curry favor with government officials in the third pigeonhole. The letters from crackpots and people who actually need help you already know about. We haven’t had many flirtatious letters yet, but there’s been an uptick after His Radiancy’s heart attack.”
Cliopher frowned at a particularly fawning letter from a minor Dairen nobleman. “Is this one offering to comfort me? In my . . . ‘time of distress’?!”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t see how this man would have been a comfort after His Radiancy fell ill.”
“Of course not, sir.”
Cliopher spread the letters out on the table and stared at them. “I’ve talked to some of these people. Recently! Were they flirting then?”
“Definitely,” Tully said, apologetically. “I apologize, sir. We thought you knew and were just ignoring them to be polite.”
Kiri chuckled. “Another good lesson for you all - Lord Mdang will not notice if someone is flirting with him. Ever. It’s almost endearing, at this point.”
Cliopher glared at her, embarrassed. “I’m sure we don’t need to discuss this any further.” He swept the letters into a pile, then paused. “Wait, I’ve spoken with some of these people multiple times. Saya Jialli has taken up valuable office time! Is she waylaying us between meetings to . . . . proposition me?”
“Yes, sir,” Zaoul said. “She seemed very encouraged by your attention.”
“I thought she had an actual concern!” Cliopher frowned. “I made you take notes!”
Zaoul shrugged. “It was good practice, sir. But the part where you had me write down where she was staying probably left the wrong impression.”
Cliopher stared at nothing for a while. “Surely this is just a passing fad of the aristocracy? Which will end soon, as His Radiancy fully recovers and the balance of power rights itself?”
“That’s certainly possible,” Kiri said. “Or it’ll get worse when the Emperor goes on his quest.”
“This is all a waste of government time,” Cliopher said, aware he was blushing but unable to stop. “And horribly inefficient. I’ll just learn how aristocrats flirt, and shut things down faster.”
“Will you?” Kiri said. At his glare, she shrugged. “I’m sorry, sir, it just doesn’t seem like your strong suit. A lot of romantic overtures are really just directed etiquette.”
“Eldo could give you lessons, sir,” Zaoul volunteered. “He gave some of us in the cohort lessons." He grinned. "They were quite instructive.”
Cliopher imagined for a horrifying second learning aristocratic flirting from Lord Rufus’s son. “I’d prefer not to,” he managed.
“I have a solution,” Tully said. “If we notice that somebody is propositioning you in a meeting, we’ll just signal. Then you’ll know how to respond.” She smiled encouragingly. “Think of it as part of our analysis duties as your secretaries. We might . . . know more of the popular phrases, these days.”
Cliopher had the vague sense she was calling him old, but it was a solution. And if he agreed, this cursed conversation could end. “That could work,” he responded gamely. “And what signal would be unobtrusive enough to escape notice?”
“How about we tap our pens in the inkwell twice?” Gaudy suggested. “That’s not unusual, but we wouldn’t do it accidentally.”
Kiri clapped her hands. “Excellent! It’s a plan. Now get out of the office and get some rest, everyone. Tomorrow will come quickly enough.”
For once, Cliopher was more than ready to leave the office. He tried to escape with as much dignity as possible, marginally helped by the guards flanking him and their completely stony faces. Kiri followed him out, waving to the secretaries. After the sound of their footsteps had faded away, everyone turned to Gaudy.
“Yes, he’s always been like that. Mama said it was true even in their teenage years. People back home mostly stopped bothering him about finding someone special.”
Zaoul raised an eyebrow. “From what I’ve seen of your family, it must take a lot for them to stop asking personal questions.”
Gaudy shrugged. “Most folks assume he stayed in the palace because he was devoted to someone here.”
Everyone nodded. Gaudy tried again.
“I mean, to the point where he wouldn’t even notice someone else.”
More nods.
“Because they were in love.”
“Well,” Tully said diplomatically. “That’s certainly none of our business. Let’s call it a night.”
******
Cliopher hated to admit it, but the signal had its benefits. By being just slightly more rude or changing the subject, certain nobles got to their point quicker. To his immense relief, the secretaries never flagged interest from anyone on the Council of Princes, or indeed, anyone who had to work with him for more than a few days. Cliopher decided to believe that was because the work became a priority - or possibly because financial reports weren’t everyone’s passion. Eventually, the inkwell’s taps became simply part of the information available to him, like the secretaries’ time signals near the end of meetings or their written reports. It was a bit personal, but so was having a footman - and Franzel was indisposible.
******
“I am very grateful for the revised tariffs on my peoples’ embroidered cloth, Lord Mdang. It occurred to me that you might not have gotten a chance to appreciate the bounty of Ysthar’s resources in person, so I wore a gown of Ystharian embroidery today.”
Cliopher looked up from the tariffs report. The woman’s gown was a deep, rich red, embroidered with lush green threads and the tiniest crystals that caught the light movement as she pushed her chest toward him. He was sure Feonie would love the chance to use such a fine fabric in his outfits, and devoutly hoped His Radiancy had not seen goods samples from the agreement. Cliopher trusted the two of them to plan his court costumes - he knew His Radiancy enjoyed finding outfits for him - but he didn’t really want to sparkle. “It’s a lovely gown, Lady Elaina. Your artisans must be very proud of their work.”
“Perhaps you’d like to examine the stitching in closer detail, Lord Mdang,” the lady suggested, her fingers idly tracing a line of flowers on her neckline. The dress was a little lower cut than most Ystharian styles, Cliopher noted as he leaned in.
clink clink
From her desk, Tully tapped her inkwell twice. Cliopher turned to examine an edge of the princess’s trailing sleeves. “Indeed, Lady Elaina, the stitching here is very impressive. I am sure the cloth tithed to His Radiancy will make stunning robes truly suited to his majesty.”
The woman stepped back. “I see.”
******
“It’s an honor to meet someone who cares this much about trade reports, Saya Alett. I’m glad you stayed after the meeting to ask questions - if the reports aren’t clear, how can we come to a good agreement?”
“The honor is all mine, Lord Mdang,” the noblewoman demurred. “I’ve been studying the numbers, but just can’t make them make sense. I would love to spend hours going over these figures together. You’re so passionate with these numbers . . . could we go over them together? Perhaps this evening, in my private office?”
clink clink
From his desk, Zaoul tapped his inkwell twice. Cliopher turned to him. “My evening briefing with His Radiancy often runs late, so perhaps not. If you’d like to make an appointment with the trade office, their officials would be able to take you through each page with cross-references and a presentation.”
The woman flipped back a few pages. “Oh, actually, look at that! I had forgotten about the second appendix. These figures make much more sense now.” She gathered her papers. “I’d hate to bother the trade office over this.”
After she left, Cliopher turned to Zaoul. “Are you certain she didn’t need more help with the numbers?”
“She got a doctorate in mathematics before pivoting to business, sir. The portion of the evening about statistics would have been brief.”
******
“Shouldn't you tell Lord Mdang that talking about the Emperor whenever someone flirts with him may be giving the wrong impression?” Eldo asked. The secretaries were gathered for a quick lunch in the mess, taking advantage of a lull in meetings.
“Absolutely not,” Zaoul said. “The important thing is that the signal is working. The second pigeonhole is almost empty these days.”
“I’m with Zaoul,” Gaudy said. “And I don’t want to try and explain it to him. It would take much more than one conversation.”
Tully shrugged. “I suppose if he hasn’t noticed how he sounds yet, it’s not our responsibility to tell him. And the signal is working.” She smiled. “Keep it up, team.”
******
“Our department has always submitted its reports on time. I hope there haven’t been any concerns about our progress or our need for funding?”
“Not at all, Saya Loyra. In fact, the Ministry of Agriculture would like to try your team’s approach here on Zunidh. Having more drought-resistant crops is a minor concern in Solaraa, but other regions could greatly benefit from your team’s cross-pollination project.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, gaze focusing elsewhere as she thought. “Of course we’d be delighted to collaborate with scientists here. I’m afraid I can’t speak to which native crops would be best suited to the procedure, but I can lay out some basic parameters.”
“Your team is welcome to take any samples which could help with those parameters, of course,” Cliopher said. “And we’ve taken the liberty of scheduling you meetings with the ministry over the next few days. I’m sure you’re tired from your journey; we can adjourn for the night.”
Saya Loyra stood and bowed. “Thank you, Lord Mdang, this is a wonderful opportunity to expand our research. My team will jump at the chance to compare native plants to our current data sets.”
“Of course, Zunidh is also home to several species which originated elsewhere in the Nine Worlds, but have been able to flourish here. Some of these plants might be worth your attention, even if they’re mostly decorative.” Cliopher nodded at Tully to begin packing up as he ushered the scientist to the door.
She nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of several rare and remarkable flowering trees in the palace gardens. It would be lovely to see them, simply to enjoy their beauty.” She turned back to Cliopher, stepping closer. “Perhaps you could show them to me?”
Cliopher nodded. “The western garden is one of my favorites. Let me take you there, if you’re not too tired.”
The woman smiled, taking his arm. “I’m never too tired for a moonlit walk in a garden with someone who appreciates my work. Let’s go see where the night leads.”
clink clink
From her desk, Tully tapped the inkwell twice, looked regretfully at her newly dirtied pen nib, then wiped it off and stored it for the night. By the time she looked up the room was empty.
******
“So there’s no . . . Lady Mdang in your life?” The Damaran nobleman leaned closer, lowering his voice.
Cliopher shook his head. “Regretfully, no. My work as Lord Chancellor keeps me too busy.”
The aristocrat nodded. “I understand entirely. I have never settled down with a woman either - it seems so difficult to find someone who truly understands the intricacies of court life.” He sprawled across the chair facing Cliopher, long fingers caressing the armrest carvings. “Or to be more specific, my tastes run to something more casual. I’m sure you understand the difficulty of finding someone who’s . . . a certain type.” He looked up at Cliopher from under his eyelashes.
clink clink
From his desk, Gaudy tapped the inkwell twice.
“I haven’t thought about it much,” Cliopher said with perfect honesty. “May I have your signature on this final document?”
The man pouted, signed the agreement, and quickly made an exit. Cliopher watched him leave with some confusion. “He’s a spoiled nobleman. Why would he be my ‘type’?”
Gaudy eyed the tall, dark-skinned, and bald aristocrat as he walked down the hall. “I couldn’t say, sir.”
******
“We’ve been going over these reports for hours, Kip. At least take a break and eat something.”
“Yes, my Lord, but then we should -” Cliopher stopped speaking, distracted. “Are those starfruit?”
“They are.”
“You don’t eat fruit.”
“They’re for you,” his Radiancy said patiently. “Just because the Council of Princes is tomorrow doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy something tonight.”
Cliopher turned toward the tray of food. “And rose macarons? The kitchen never makes these.”
“I requested the macarons, you’ve mentioned that you like them.”
“They’re some of my favorites, but I don’t remember when I told you -”
“I pay attention to what you like, you know.” His Radiancy smiled, lion eyes glinting in the magelight. “My dear Kip, it’s late. Bring the tray to the terrace and let’s stop talking about politics.”
clink-
From her desk, Tully had frozen, pen in the inkwell. From his desk across the room Eldo was staring at her, wide-eyed. Ever so casually, Tully lifted her pen and began writing. Cliopher didn’t seem to notice the sound.
“It is late, my Lord,” Cliopher admitted. “Perhaps a short break.” He picked up the tray and followed his Radiancy out to the terrace. The instant the door shut behind them, the two secretaries began hissing at each other.
“Why did you do that-”
“It’s just a habit, I wasn’t thinking-”
“Obviously you weren’t thinking, what if they noticed -”
“Be quiet, what if they hear you-”
“You know they won’t, he did that spell handwavy thing! We have at least ten minutes!”
Tully rolled her eyes. “It’s the Council of Princes tomorrow, we have maybe five minutes! Lord Mdang doesn’t even have coffee out there!”
“They’re coming back”, Ludvic interrupted from his post at the door. Tully and Eldo bent back over their desks, scribbling furiously. His Radiancy glided back into his office, followed by Cliopher.
“Now,” his Radiancy asked calmly, “Where were we?”
******
An hour later back in his own office, Cliopher wrapped up his end-of-night instructions and paused. “And Tully?”
She froze guiltily. “Yes, sir?”
“Perhaps the signal for aristocrats who . . . perhaps it’s run its course. There’s no need to flag normal conversation or mistake it for anything else.”
“Of course not, sir. I’ll tell the others.”
Cliopher nodded and left. Tully sagged in her seat.
“That could have gone worse.”