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It seemed like one crisis after another these days.
Arguably, this was something of an improvement. There were now enough moments of relative calm and stability that the crises were distinct from each other. Overall, this made a refreshing change after the long protracted calamity of the time just after the Fall.
Kip was glad to be serving under Princess Indrogan, who made sure these things were handled.
Kip took the reports of food shortages and wars and pestilence from every corner of Zunidh and tried to turn them into something usable. Well, nearly every corner of Zunidh- there was still no news of the Wide Seas, on the one hand, and on the other hand Xiputl and Damara seemed wonderfully stable- relatively speaking- and rarely came to notice among all the rest.
As it turned out, the collapse of the political and magical structures of an entire Empire was nothing short of cataclysmic. And all the reports of these disasters they could glean from the wider world came straight to this office, for Princess Indrogan to make her judgements on.
For all he believed in the impact of their relief efforts, Kip sometimes looked at the reports he was summarizing on the state of the world and was whole-heartedly grateful that he was not the one being relied on. Better to support someone who knew what she was doing, in times like these.
At his desk, Kip neatened up his pile of reports from the day- traders had come from central Dair with reports of contaminated water carrying a wasting disease with no treatments available. And in the Kallarrahroo it had somehow been several generations since the Fall, and the children of the children of the people who had survived the Empire didn’t see why they should be beholden to a local Prince who hadn’t done anything for them in generations- and the Prince didn’t want to approach the deserts, for fear of losing decades of his own time with court and family.
And, once again, the last three traders that had gone to the Wide Seas had not come back.
The office was mostly empty, the majority of the staff having already gone to bed; the bells were due to ring midnight any moment now. It was just him with his last few reports to turn over, Princess Indrogan at the desk in her office, and the two pages assigned to the night shift half dozing in their chairs.
Kip had done everything he could with the information he had to hand, so he gathered the remainder of his day's work into a folder and brought it into Princess Indrogan’s office.
The office was a nice room- the windows along the wall were a sign of the importance of these offices, those being usually reserved for noble apartments and public spaces, but it was well decorated in one of the more tasteful Astandalan styles, with a handful of golden ornaments carefully arranged on sturdy wooden furniture- and all of it not quite obscured by the accumulated paperwork of managing what used to be an Empire. A grand desk served Princess Indrogan, with several bookshelves around the room, a wall of locking cabinets for the most important files, and a single uncomfortable chair meaningfully placed across from the Princess’s desk- it was clear visitors were not invited to linger in this space.
It is to this chair that Kip went, after placing his reports carefully down on the desk and receiving a vague wave of her hand. She skimmed through the first page of each report, then sighed deeply. “I see you’ve brought more disasters for me, Sayo Mdang.”
She looked tired, and sounded exhausted. This was unusual, for her.
The princess was usually a paragon of formality, a proud Astandalan noble who had stepped up to provide organization in times of chaos. She had high expectations, and expected herself to live up to them as much as everyone else.
But Kip can’t help but notice the dark shadows under her eyes, the empty mugs on her desk that had once held the next best thing they can get to coffee these days. Here in the flickering lamplight of this midnight office, the Princess’s hair was just a shade closer to unkempt than she normally allowed it- there was a sense of intimacy, of the world closing in around them.
“Tell me, Sayo Mdang,” she said, reaching to the shelves behind her and retrieving a decanter filled with some sort of alcohol that surely cost more than Kip had used to make in an entire month. “Which of these problems you have brought me do you believe have solutions?”
Ah. A quiz. Kip was familiar with how these went. He straightened in his chair, thinking hard.
Princess Indrogan poured a measure of alcohol into each glass, then gestured almost ironically for him to take the one nearest him. To buy himself an extra moment for thought, he took a careful sip, then did his best to maintain an even, courtly expression as it burned sharply down his throat. Princess Indrogan raised an ironic eyebrow. “You will have to get better at that someday, Sayo Mdang.”
Kip did not dignify this with a response.
“Your Majesty,” he said instead, “I believe the widespread illness is the most urgent crisis. We may not have doctors to spare, but the palace has unused stores of medicine, and information about potential treatments that may have been lost. If these items can be delivered-”
“And who will deliver it? There is no real post.”
There should be. But Kip has had this argument before, and does not see the need to have it again.
“Perhaps there are people here in the palace who hail from that area, and would like to go home.”
“Perhaps. And if not?”
“We could contract with a merchant in Solaara to deliver the wares, if we can get through.”
“I hear an ‘If’, Sayo Mdang. That is not yet a solution.”
“Your Majesty, if there is no other way to deliver the supplies that might help these people, I could bring them myself.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Princess Indrogan says, “You will do far more good in the long run staying here. You must have your priorities, Sayo Mdang.”
Kip takes another sip of his drink, and pretends his scowl is from the burn of the alcohol down his throat.
Princess Indrogan sighs, swirling her own drink as she considers his answers. “And what shall we do with the rebellion in the deserts?”
“Does something need to be done? We cannot solve the time discrepancies, but they seem to be fine, overall. I haven’t seen any reports of plague or famine, but if something new has come in-”
“They refuse to acknowledge their Prince.”
“Your Majesty. With all due respect, it seems as though their Prince has also refused to acknowledge them. Does he not also have an obligation to his people?”
Princess Indrogan raises an eyebrow. “You would let them flout the law, Sayo Mdang?”
Kip shrugs, as equanimously as he can manage.
“It will make little difference to these people if this matter is handled now, or six months from now. Perhaps time will stabilize in a way that makes the old allegiances and structures of government feasible. But in the meantime I would hope that the wellbeing of the people of Zunidh would be our priority.” Kip suddenly remembers who he is talking to, and that these are the same radical sentiments he had long since learned to keep to himself. “Uh, deferring to Your Majesty’s judgement, of course.”
“Of course,” she said dryly, taking another sip of her drink. Fortunately, she seemed more amused than offended.
“So you would do the same for the Wide Seas? Leave them to their own devices.”
“For now. Your Majesty.”
“For now?”
“Given that we know nothing, there may indeed be a crisis that needs to be handled there. We will have to find out what has happened someday.”
“But not today. I am glad you are properly considering your priorities.”
Kip took a sip of his drink as she flipped through the reports again, then folded them away and put them on top of one of the many stacks of dispatch cases in her office.
“You are correct, Sayo Mdang. The plague is the most urgent of the issues at hand, and we might have supplies to spare. Fill out the requisition form to begin an assessment before you retire for the night, and you can form a committee to determine how best to deliver them in the morning.”
Kip places his glass carefully on Princess Indrogan’s desk and stands, knowing this for a dismissal. He bowes, then looked up as she raises a hand for his attention.
“Sayo Mdang?”
“Yes, your Majesty?”
Then they both pause, as the bells of the palace finally toll midnight.
“Get yourself some rest, sooner than later. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
They all are. But Kip bows an agreement, and retreats to fill out one last form before he follows her injunction and makes his way to bed.
Princess Indrogan stays behind, working long into the early hours of the morning, reading reports of disasters in a pool of golden lamplight in an office at the heart of the Palace of Stars.