While the Dauphin was making a decision for another petitioner, Regent Konstantine regarded the group of men with a critical eye.  Leading both Ministry and Council was Grand Master Thouret, Minister of the Interior. He was an old friend and ally of Konstantine’s – their views tended to align, but he too was getting rather thin and worn down by the responsibilities of his position.

    Next to him taking a covert pinch of snuff was Lord Beauchamp, Controller-General of Finance.  He was usefully moderate on all things, including his view of his niece’s regular rows with the ABC Club.

    Lord Beauxbaton, Minister of Expat Relations – specifically those of Livinnian origin – had a fixed harried-yet-self-impressed expression due to the difficulties he was privy to.  He was another useful man, despite tiresome speeches that bespoke his longing for a high appointment behind a pulpit.

    Lord Pelchat, Minister of the Navy, was the youngest and shortest at fifty-seven, overseeing administration of the navy and all things to do with seaborne trade. With the shortest tenure, too, it was yet to be seen if the pleasantly plump fellow would have the sharpness required should Badrahoun pirates war against Duna trade routes again.

    Perpetually drawn and sour-faced, Lord Voland, Minister of War, oversaw all the Kingdom’s defense, army, and constabulary, with one notable exception.

    The man was green with perpetual envy.  The most incredible body of fighting men in the world would never be his to control. It was Konstantine’ belief that Voland had never forgiven him for that omission.  But Voland should have known when first appointed to replace Konstantine on the King’s Council – the legendary unit had never been under the War Office’s purview.  When he was Defense Minister, Konstantine’s influence on Corps d’ Noir only went so far as his personal bond with the Contra’Vagus, both past and present.  Yet, Voland was still set in the belief that he had been somehow robbed of influence.

    And then, there was Duke Gouvier, Minister of Foreign Affairs.

    Gouvier and Konstantine mixed about as well as oil and water – possible for short periods, when sufficiently shaken by events, like this coup.  Contentedly fat, vicious when riled, his boarish talent to root out the best morsels in international dealings made him terribly valuable.  And insufferable.  However much Gouvier privately detested him, to Konstantine’s surprise and the man’s credit, he had not sided with Baron Kilhaven.  After decades of political spats, it was inexplicable to have his support now.  The Foreign Minister must have decided that Konstantine remaining Regent simply protected his own interests.  Presently, Gouvier’s beady-eyed sneer lifted puffed cheeks into an amiable shape in the Regent’s direction.  Konstantine inclined his head to acknowledge it.

    It was sort of an improvement.

    Standing now before the royal dais, an old, frail Lord pled, “Dear Dauphin, I beseech thee on behalf of my nephew now locked away in the Bastille.  Please, pardon him of any wrong-doing, for I know in his heart he is a true, loyal servant of the Crown!  I am certain Baron Kilhaven bewitched him, for he never would do the things he is accused of!”