Blossom

“I feel bad, Lois,” I complain to my lady in waiting as she works arranging my hair. “After blowing up at Father yesterday I locked myself in the room and wouldn’t see him for the rest of the day. I know I’m being too hard on him. This hasn’t been easy on either of us, and he’s only thinking about the good of the kingdom. Still,” I frown at my reflection. “To consider a girl his own daughter’s age as a potential marriage partner…”

Lois’ movements grow even more stiff and mechanical as she pulls my hair into a pretty up-do.

“Not so hard,” I wince.

“Forgive me, Your Highness.”

“I don’t know what to say to him, Lois. I feel I should apologize, but I don’t even know how to bring it up.”

“If I may venture a suggestion?”

“Please,” I beg her, meeting her stern gaze in the mirror.

“I wonder that you’re thinking of ways to apologize at all. It’s really not your style. I think your usual carefree, breezy apology will melt the king’s heart at once, if indeed, he is even angry with you.”

She’s right. It’s really not my style to worry about something as simple as an apology. Somehow, though, this quarrel feels a bit trickier than my usual blowups with Father. Perhaps because it involves the question of a step-mother and future step-siblings, perhaps because it involves the curse that’s standing in the way of my inheritance, but it all feels very sticky and uncomfortable. 

“I really don’t want Father to get married, Lois,” I confide. “At least not to a girl like Philomela. It’s not that I don’t want him to be happy. If she were more mature, more like a mother figure, I’m sure I’d be perfectly fine with it. If she were like you…”

“Now, don’t be ridiculous,” Lois chides me, happy for the moment to conceal her feelings. Or at least to imagine she’s keeping them hidden from me. “How could a mere lady in waiting dream of marrying the king?”

“King regent,” I remind her a little irritably, like I reminded Father yesterday. He will never inherit the throne, not while I’m alive. And the same goes for any children he has with his future wife.

Ah, it’s all so awkward! I really need to apologize quickly, I think with a groan. The longer I put it off the worse I’ll feel.

I wait for my father at breakfast but he doesn’t show. With each minute that ticks by I should be more anxious, but instead, the opposite is true. I relax quite easily in the cool morning breeze, admiring the brilliant blue of the Meddio and the clear summer sky after yesterday’s storm. The harbor is packed with ships, which is unusual, but I do recall Lois mentioning the envoy from Rorthage was due to arrive, so I don’t give it much thought. I suppose I’ll be meeting with them at some point later today.

For breakfast Mrs. Agate’s prepared fruit salad with cheese and lemon tarts which I eat deliciously with hot tea. Everything’s so good and the morning’s so pleasant that in no time at all I’ve completely forgotten what I was upset about in the first place. Then I notice Father’s empty chair as I’m finishing my meal and I frown. I should look for him.

In my father’s office I find a man I believe to be one of his accountants, though his name escapes me. He seems stressed and a bit frantic. When I greet him with a warm smile, he reciprocates with more of a grimace.

“Good morning. Where’s Father?”

“His Highness is in a meeting with the prince of Rorthage and his envoy. They arrived earlier this morning.”

“A meeting so suddenly?”

“The emperor’s son doesn’t like to waste time.”

Emperor Hanno has many sons, though if I were to venture a guess as to which one he’d send on an errand of this nature—

“Would that be the infamous trade prince, Malchus Zenobia?”

The man scoffs. “You’re not completely uninformed, I see, for as much as you play around.”

My smile freezes on my face. Was that an insult? I’ve grown so accustomed to overhearing this kind of thing that it hardly fazes me anymore, still to have it said directly to my face is a new low, even for me.

Annoyed, I narrow my eyes on the accountant.

“What are you poking around Father’s desk for?”

“I need his report on the palace budget. But I’m starting to think he hasn’t finished it yet. Rather, he’s not even started it,” he adds with a tone of desperation.

Well of course he doesn’t have it. He hasn’t had me around the last two weeks to make it for him. And yesterday I was so upset I completely forgot to crunch the numbers.

“I’ll have to do it myself,” he’s murmuring, tearing unconsciously at his thinning hair. “We need those figures for our meeting with Prince Malchus.”

“Hang on,” I say, moving past him. “I’ll have the report ready for you in a few minutes.”

“Young lady—”

“Princess,” I correct him icily, and he sighs with exasperation, as though he were dealing with a small, irritating child.

“Princess Delphine, a report on the palace budget is no simple document. It takes hours of careful concentration to create. It’s not something a layman can come in and expect to—”

“A layman?” Once again, my challenge is pure ice. The accountant gulps. “I am the crown princess—this is my palace, my budget. Now shut your mouth and stand there while I figure out these documents.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

He’s scared, if not completely convinced of my abilities. What is he thinking as he watches me flip hastily through the ledgers? That I’m just playing around? That I’m making a mess? Really, does Father not tell them I am the one that handles and approves all the palace spending? It’s like he has no clue…

I work in concentrated silence for a few minutes, jotting down a few figures, doing the calculations mentally. Then after five minutes of this I sit up and hand him the report.

“You’ll find all the numbers you need here. As you can see, spending is down this month by two percent. I’d say this is due to the measures for budget decrease I implemented last month, but practically, it will take a few months for those results to manifest. Rather, you’ll find the decrease is common this time of year, as the palace spends less on heating, lamp oil and candles with the onset of summer. Still, it feels nice to see spending go down even a little. Every copper counts.”

“You did this—how did you?” Flabbergasted, he goes over the numbers, hardly believing his eyes. “It would have taken me half the day to sift through those reports and come up with these calculations.”

“Feel free to take half the day double checking my work, if you wish. But I can assure you these figures are all accurate.”

“I believe you. I recognize this handwriting. It’s on all our palace reports.”

“Because I am the one that compiles them. Didn’t Father tell you?”

“Well, no. I was under the impression he…but really—five minutes?”

“I like to get my work done quickly. Leaves more time for ‘playing around,’ no?”

He flushes with embarrassment at my jibe, but I don’t feel satisfied. This guy—he really didn’t know I do the palace budget. I wonder if he knows I handle logistics for supplying the army and navy too, and just about everything else that goes on in this kingdom. I doubt it. If he did, he never would have spoken so disrespectfully, treating me like a spoiled, empty-headed princess.

Maybe Lois is right. Maybe I should make more of an effort to be seen handling paperwork instead of completing it all mentally and spending so much public leisure time.

“Where did you say Father was? In a meeting with the trade prince?”

“That’s right.”

I frown. I don’t really like dealing with diplomats, but still, I am the crown princess. Doesn’t Father care that it makes me look bad when he doesn’t include me in these meetings? 

“Did he say why he didn’t call me to attend the meeting with him?”

“It began quite early. Perhaps he thought you’d be too tired. Anyway, I shouldn’t worry about it, Princess. It’s sure to be a very dull meeting full of complex discussions that would go right over your head. That is, they wouldn’t interest you…that is…” realizing he’s just insulted me once again, the accountant begins to stammer. I watch him struggle for a moment before I cut him off coldly.

“What’s your name?”

“K-Kleon, Your Highness.”

“Kleon—you’re fired.”