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The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 3, Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2022-07-27 05:09:00 +0000 UTC9th Day, Upper Wind Month, 1 CE, 0900 Hours
“What have you found out about him?”
Deep in the Queen’s Apartments in the Royal Palace of the Draconic Kingdom, Draudillon Oriculus held her arms out while a lady-in-waiting towelled off her body. The gentle scent of her favourite fragrance rose from the bath nearby.
“He’s turned down all offers of food and drink, Your Majesty,” Ioena, the lady-in-waiting replied. “Accommodations as well. He says that his duty is to attend to you and ensure that you remain safe, and he has a magic item that forgoes the need for sustenance and rest.”
The answer pleased and displeased her at the same time. That Sebas Tian meant to remain with her at all times was wonderful, but, at the same time, she wanted to know more about him. What were his favourite foods? Did he drink? What about his interests and hobbies? And his preferences in women…
“What do you think We should wear?” Draudillon asked.
“Several of us took turns speaking with him,” a tinge of pink touched Ioena’s cheeks, “but there were no differences in his interactions between any of us. We can’t figure out any of his preferences.”
“Hmm…”
It appeared that she had a difficult battle ahead of her. She didn’t even know whether she should appear as her original self or something more substantial, in a womanly sense. To be safe, she assumed her original appearance. Sebas Tian aside, she would be holding audiences with her subjects throughout the day and they all favoured its youthful appeal.
Draudillon walked out into the next room and examined the choices arranged from her wardrobe. A tiny frown appeared on her face.
“Oi, why are they all skimpy ones again? The capital was recently overrun, you know? We should be wearing something more suitable for the occasion, yes?”
“Gazing upon your glorious appearance will heal the people, Your Majesty,” Ioena smiled. “They need all the energy they can get to help the capital recover.”
Recover, huh…
She had no idea where to start with that. Or rather, she knew what needed to be done but had no idea how they could do it. The existence of cities hinged on the development of the lands around them. Capitals were very large cities that rose with a country under them. At the moment, the Beastmen still occupied the country so one might say that the capital was being supported by nothing.
Even if they managed to chase the Beastmen all the way back to their country, the Draconic Kingdom was still in big trouble. Over a year of warfare and hostile occupation had collapsed their economy and all of their institutions were in shambles. Half of her population was probably eaten or enslaved and they would have labour shortages everywhere. Hard times lay ahead.
Her stomach churned as she thought of the Undead army and its probable price, though she wasn’t sure whether it was more due to them being Undead or over fears about what she might have to pay. The treasury was spent and they would need the Sorcerous Kingdom’s continued presence, as the Beastmen would continue to raid the Draconic Kingdom throughout its efforts at restoring its lands and their productivity. If Sebas found out that she had no money…
Would they cut their losses and leave? If that happened, the Beastmen would come back and she would get to experience doom all over again. Could she borrow some money from someplace?
As if. Who would lend enough money to pay for an army to guard a ruined country?
“Are you comfortable, Your Majesty?”
“Eh?”
Draudillon looked down. While she had agonised over the Draconic Kingdom’s situation, Ioena had dressed her. She took two steps to the side to look at herself in the room’s dressing mirror.
“This…this is the worst one!” Draudillon cried, “Our tummy and back are completely exposed…the leg slits go all the way to Our girdle! Look, you can even see the strings of Our panties!”
The outfit was tailored from pure, white linen as if to express her innocence, but the design was anything but innocent. With her body essentially being that of a twelve-year-old, there wasn’t even anything to show off. She had all the appeal of a featureless limestone wall, so it felt like purposefully-directed harassment.
A long sigh stretched out of her mouth and swirled around the room.
“I think it looks wonderful, Your Majesty,” Ioena beamed. “Everyone will surely love it.”
‘Draconic Kingdom’, my ass. We should rename it to ‘Lolicon Kingdom’.
Her subjects were all like that. Every single damn one of them.
“We are dealing with foreigners, yes?” Draudillon said, “They are from the north, too. Their fashions are not so…breezy as Ours. And remember the first time we hosted those fellows from the Theocracy? Their looks of disapproval over Our appearance were severe enough to put cracks in the columns of the throne room.”
“I don’t know why we should think anything of the Theocracy at this juncture,” Ioena sniffed. “Those old prudes left us to our fates. There must be something wrong with their heads, anyway – they only go after old hags!”
By ‘old hags’, her lady-in-waiting meant people over the age of twenty. People in the Theocracy tended to prefer individuals who demonstrated high proficiency in their craft. This meant that the ‘ideal’ was usually an individual in the prime of life rather than energetic youths. Though her Kingdom had many troubles, she liked to think of herself as a competent Queen and guests from the Theocracy liked her far more when she took on her more generous ‘adult’ appearance.
It was as Ioena had said, however. Thinking of the Theocracy at this point was pointless. They needed to appeal to those who were in the position to help her and were willing to do so. She would show them whatever they wanted to see.
Draudillon stared at her childish reflection in the mirror with dead eyes. Maybe she was just doomed to cater to the tastes of deviants. Since it was mostly her fault, all she could do was privately complain about it.
A gust of wind from the river lifted the silken drapes of her apartment, sending a chill up her spine. Draudillon put on a vulnerable look suited for her appearance, instilling her voice with a plaintive tone.
“Ioena,” she rubbed her arms, “Our shoulders are cold!”
“I’ll find a cloak for you right away, Your Majesty!” Ioena brought her hands together as she bubbled happily, “Just one moment!”
Her lady-in-waiting swept out of the hall. Draudillon let out another sigh. She glowered at herself in the mirror, wondering how she would salvage the huge mess that had been dumped on top of them.
It didn’t seem like they would be able to do much. They were at the mercy of the Sorcerous Kingdom, but she didn’t know how generous their sovereign was, what their policies were or the objectives that they had for the Draconic Kingdom. Furthermore, the timing by which they had swooped in to rescue her could indicate predatory motivations.
Yet, she had already given her approval for them to act. At the end of it all, if she couldn’t pay the price that the Sorcerous Kingdom demanded, they might very well take the whole country away.
Yup, gotta beg.
She would do everything that she could. If Sebas Tian was leading the negotiations, she would work to gain his favour. Even offering herself to him was on the table. Not that she minded that at all – she would lie down on the table herself. A silly smile appeared in the reflection as her imagination wandered off with her.
“I found just the thing, Your Majesty.”
Draudillon’s smile turned upside-down as Ioena reentered the room. ‘Just the thing’ was a shawl of sheer white silk that hid absolutely nothing. She didn’t feel any warmer when it was draped over her shoulders and arms. If she couldn’t get warm clothing, maybe another source of warmth could be offered…
“Do we have anything left in the cellar, or did the Beastmen loot it all?”
“We can’t have you drinking so early in the negotiations, Your Majesty,” Ioena replied. “You might damage your image.”
Isn’t my image already damaged enough?
So much for alternative sources of warmth. She left the room, feeling the cool morning air play over her skin. Outside the royal apartments, Sebas Tian awaited her, back as straight as a steel bar. He turned his sharp gaze towards her and she felt herself growing heated under his scrutiny.
After several moments, he bowed deeply.
“I am at your service, Your Majesty.”
“You…you are? W-we mean, you should be pursuing negotiations, yes?”
“The rest of our delegation will not be arriving until the situation around the capital has been stabilised,” Sebas Tian said. “Please do not allow my presence to interfere with your work.”
Sebas Tian drew to the side, falling into step behind her right shoulder after she passed. He was right that she should focus on her work, but her head was scrambled just from that brief exchange. He hadn’t said anything about her appearance at all, nor did he visibly react. Even if she didn’t like looking as she did, she still hoped that he liked it.
As they made their way back to the throne room, the faces of the palace staff brightened when they saw her. They stopped their work and showered her with copious amounts of undeserved attention.
“Your Majesty, thank goodness you’re safe!”
“I was so worried!”
“Long live the Queen!”
Draudillon smiled and nodded at each of them as she went by, stowing away her discomfort over their reception. Like Ioena, they had all stayed to defend the palace despite her orders to flee and save themselves. Many had ripped and torn uniforms while others still wore armour. Since they all wore looks of supreme satisfaction and happiness, she couldn’t bring herself to yell at them for being suicidal idiots.
The guards at the throne room door snapped to attention as her entourage approached. Inside, the hall had been cleared of refuse and the shattered balcony windows had been removed. The torn drapes had been taken off as well and gusts of cold air from outside circulated through the hall. Draudillon took her seat at the throne, nearly jumping up with a squeak when her butt pressed against the cold marble.
“We would like a blanket for Our legs,” she said.
Ioena nodded to one of the maids attending to her behind the throne, who scurried off to see to her request. Draudillon hoped that she would bring something that was actually warm.
“Where is Our Prime Minister?” She asked as she ran her gaze along the columns lining the throne room.
“The Prime Minister fell defending the palace walls, Your Majesty,” Ioena answered sadly. “He was a good man.”
Draudillon sighed. He was probably the most sensible person in her cabinet, yet he had died in a stupid way.
“Then what about his staff?”
“They died in the battle as well.”
Dammit, why are administrators dying in battle?! Don’t they know how hard it is to put a decent government together?
She glanced over at Sebas Tian, whose steely expression betrayed nothing.
“What about the Royal Treasurer?”
“He fell defending the Royal Treasury.”
Did that make any sense? It sounded like it did, but it probably didn’t. Royal Treasurers managed the Royal Treasury. They did not guard it like some sort of Dragon.
“Then the Minister of Internal Affairs…”
Ioena shook her head.
“Is anyone in Our government alive?”
“Of the surviving members of Your Majesty’s court, Lady Yorsten is the highest-ranked.”
“But you’re Lady Yorsten.”
“At your service, Your Majesty.”
Draudillon collapsed into her seat. She didn’t care how cold the backrest was.
I need a drink.
Her economy had collapsed, half of her people were probably in various states of dead and her government was defunct. On the bright side, since they were a Kingdom, even her Maids could function as bureaucrats as they were all Nobles.
“What have you prepared for me then, Lady Yorsten?”
In response, Ioena gestured to a set of figures lined up along the central carpet. Captain Scavo came forward, as did her three other ladies-in-waiting with binders under their arms. Draudillon favoured the Captain of the palace guard with a bright smile.
“Word of your valiant defence of the palace has reached Our ears, Captain Scavo,” Draudillon said. “You have Our utmost appreciation for your efforts.”
Captain Scavo started tearing up.
Uwah! Don’t cry! I’m the one that wants to cry!
“H-how is the condition of the palace?” Draudillon asked.
“The palace is secure and the staff is working to restore things to normal, my Queen,” Captain Scavo answered. “Our, erm…guests have moved into the northwest tower…”
“That’s fine for now,” Draudillon told him. “Ensure that proper state rooms are prepared for them as soon as possible. What about the city? How do the people fare?”
“Things are quiet,” the Captain replied, “but problems are brewing.”
“Explain.”
“The militia is decimated, Your Majesty. The army went before them. The closest thing that we have to law enforcement are the thugs protecting shops and warehouses in exchange for what’s left of the city’s food and sundries. According to the refugees from around the duchy, the Beastmen that attacked us ravaged the entire countryside before swarming over the walls, so what little we have stored is all we have left.”
She fought to keep her childishly hopeful expression on her face as Captain Scavo painted an increasingly dire picture for the city. When he finished his report, he looked up at her expectantly as if she could somehow produce a miracle to solve all of their problems.
“What does the city have left?” Draudillon asked.
“We had enough until the next harvest, at least until the refugees started flooding in. Even with all the people that died when the Beastmen got in, the Guilds say that we have two weeks at best.”
“What about Seagate?”
“We don’t know, Your Majesty,” the Captain replied. “The last we heard, the twin harbours were still under siege.”
Argh…
They were coming out of winter with two weeks of food. The coastal towns and villages could provide them with fish, but they had no idea whether they were in a position to do so. At the same time, unless they liberated a large portion of the coast, they still wouldn’t have enough to feed everyone…and if they over-fished, the aquatic denizens living off of their coasts would start a war of their own.
“Is Lady…actually, We did not get her name. The Noble that came with Sebas Tian.”
“Baroness Zahradnik?” Captain Scavo offered.
“Is that her?” Draudillon looked over at Sebas Tian.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied. “Baroness Zahradnik is the Commander of our military forces here.”
“We would speak with Baroness Zahradnik,” Draudillon told Captain Scavo. “Is she present in the palace?”
“I’ll head over and check, Your Majesty,” Captain Scavo replied. “She’s been in and out since this morning.”
The Captain left. Draudillon closed her eyes, letting out a breath.
If they could secure some of the coastline and fish up their limit…then somehow transport it…then provide security…implement even more severe rationing…they might be able to stretch out their food supplies by a bit. Of course, they had no effective way to do any of that.
One thing at a time…we can’t fix everything at once.
She opened her eyes again.
“Lina–erm, Lady Delerose.”
The young noblewoman stepped forward and curtsied, spreading one side of her skirt with her free hand.
“Your Majesty,” she said, “I’ve collected the records of the Office of the Royal Treasury and compiled a summary of our finances.”
Oh boy, here we go…
Draudillon glanced at Sebas, who remained expressionless at Lady Delerose’s words. Now that she had broached the topic, there was no turning back.
“What do We have?” Draudillon asked, “Is there anything we can offer for trade?”
“Our liquid assets consist of the seasonal salaries for the palace staff, plus projected expenses for official functions. Everything else is held in art, magic items and various other articles of value.”
Yup, we’re broke.
What Lady Delerose referred to would amount to a stupendous fortune for an individual, but they were mere crumbs when measured against the budget of a nation. Her mind worked, trying to figure out how to get revenues flowing again. The good news was that the coinage in the city was probably still around. Humans couldn’t eat metal, after all.
While she might not have the finances to feed the city, the people still had money to pay for necessities. Diminishing supplies in the Draconic Kingdom had driven the price of everything up, but prices beyond her borders should have remained relatively reasonable unless some great calamity had struck the region.
Trade would be their lifeline and the Sorcerous Kingdom had expressed its interest in forming economic ties. With that in mind, her task would be to ensure that the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Merchants wouldn’t squeeze her people for everything that they had. This would be the main objective of any trade agreement that she negotiated with their delegation. Once she secured that, all that the Draconic Kingdom would require was time to normalise its economy.
“Confirm our inventories,” Draudillon ordered. “We will probably have to sell some things to get trade flowing again…the Sorcerous Kingdom desires trade relations, yes?”
“We do,” Sebas Tian nodded, “though the delegation that I mentioned will be negotiating on that front as well. I believe that they will come up with a satisfactory arrangement for all parties involved.”
She could only imagine what sort of ‘satisfactory arrangement’ might come out of negotiations where their side had prepared a team of experts and her side only had a handful of young Nobles. Her palace staff was not incompetent, but neither did they have the experience of veteran diplomats and ministers.
“Then go ahead and get that done, Lady Delerose,” Draudillon nodded, then turned her attention to the next lady-in-waiting-turned-temporary-minister. “Lady Wenwyn, what do you have for me?”
The fiery-haired Maid stepped forward, paying her respects before speaking.
“Your Majesty’s cabinet and the legislature…how shall we put it together again?”
“Is nothing intact? Some people must have survived…”
“Most of the Nobles in the city fell trying to defend it with what personnel they had on hand,” Lady Wenwyn said. “As for their families…the palace quarter has been turned inside-out. Unless they’ve gone into hiding somewhere else, I wouldn’t hold much hope for their survival.”
“What are the chances that there are qualified survivors elsewhere?” Draudillon murmured, “Well, We will just have to see who turns up.”
She shared a knowing look with the Maid: it was all dependent on luck. Just as one could not throw money at people and have them magically turn into soldiers, one could not produce bureaucrats and administrators on demand. Simply handing someone a title or position did not bring with it the education, upbringing and experience required for the ministries.
Some roles could be filled by those with common education, but most required specialised training that only Nobles tended to have. Stories about street waifs who rose to positions of prominence with nothing but charisma and willpower were certainly inspiring to the masses, but reality was never so convenient.
“By the way,” Draudillon said. “Have you been employing anyone else to help out with your work?”
“It’s just us Noble scions out of the palace staff, Your Majesty,” Lady Wenwyn replied. “We will step aside if someone more qualified comes along, of course…”
“You’re worrying about the wrong thing,” Draudillon waved a hand dismissively, “We were wondering if you thought of a source of potential bureaucrats that We hadn’t considered. Losing all of our ministers and their staff is a pain, but lamenting their loss doesn’t fix anything. Hmm…get your heads together and draw up a way to screen for any useful people out there. We also need to keep track of all the loose titles floating around. Use the precedents set by the attack from five years ago.”
She was referring to a particularly bad raid that decimated the populations of multiple provincial borders, culminating in the occupation of one of the Draconic Kingdom’s cities in the east. Along with the population, nearly all of the Noble houses had been wiped out and a huge administrative mess ensued. On top of that, a not-insignificant number of individuals claimed to be related to the deceased in an attempt to pocket a position of authority or at least filch some wealth. No matter how much their communities suffered, some people were utterly shameless.
“Your Majesty,” the third Maid said. “I believe it would be prudent to coordinate with the Temples to help establish a semblance of order.”
Draudillon suppressed a grimace. There were seven or eight faiths with temple grounds in the city, as well as a dozen minor faiths practised in some form by the population. As good as the idea seemed on paper, trying to get that many different religions to cooperate in practice was just asking for an endless headache.
“What do you have in mind, Lady Soruel?” Draudillon asked.
“The distribution of information, to begin with,” Lady Soruel answered. “We will have notices on the public boards and criers to inform the illiterate, but having as many places as possible ensuring that people know what is going on will help our recovery efforts and give the subjects a sense of unified purpose.”
“I see,” Draudillon nodded. “That appears reasonable on the surface, but is it truly safe to do so?”
“What does Your Majesty mean by this?”
“The influence of the Temples is something that any government must keep in mind,” Draudillon told her. “While We do not consider the Temples inherently bad, many have teachings that are at odds with the way that a government must run a country. If they start delivering messages from the government, a few Evangelists may see it as an opportunity to weave in messages from their faith or even tailor information to suit their tenets. Overall, it would give them more apparent authority if they become involved in governance.”
Lady Soruel puckered her lips as she fell into thought. She was a fairly religious woman, which was probably why she had taken initiative with her proposal to involve the Temples. She was earnest and well-meaning, but her biases in favour of religion blinded her to the problems that the Temples could cause.
“Using their teachings to reinforce the significance of our mandates should be a good thing, shouldn’t it?” The noblewoman’s straight, midnight-blue hair shimmered as she spoke, “Instead of excluding the Temples, we should draw them closer to us. Their support of the people is especially important in times like these.”
“What you say holds merit,” Draudillon nodded, “but how can you ensure that this collaborative effort is not abused? The Temples are staffed by people, and some of them will inevitably have flexible scruples. I understand that you have a high opinion of the Temples and their capacity to serve the people, but not all religions are like the Faith of the Six.”
Needless to say, the seat of that faith had left them to flounder, so not even they could be relied upon. Antagonising one of her few precious remaining administrators was a pointless and destructive act, however.
Draudillon pondered Lady Soruel’s proposal and the greater puzzle that it represented. Religion was a cornerstone of society in the Draconic Kingdom, but rather than the monolithic organisations that manifested in the Theocracy and the northern Human countries, each faith was but a tile in the grand mosaic of her country. Given what she was and how her country had been structured, it could also be said that she was an object of worship, too.
The other cornerstones were the Crown, the Nobles and the Guilds. Because the Crown was what it was, it always remained secure in its position. The state of the nobility – that was, the territorial administration – was still unknown, but she suspected what had played out in the capital had happened everywhere else. She was fairly confident that the Guilds could recover quickly and get back to business, so it was on the Guilds that most of her hopes were pinned.
“Rather than focusing on the support of the Temples,” Draudillon told Lady Soruel, “we should be involving everyone. Deliver Our mandates to the relevant organisations. The Temples can be involved in matters of public health and wellness as they usually are. The Guilds and their members must be encouraged to get our economy back on its feet. The Nobles…well, if you find any surviving Nobles, We will deal with them directly. In the meanwhile, the Crown has to act in their place.”
She had the most confidence in her ability to deal with the Nobles, as they were creatures of tradition who derived their powers from her authority. They might bicker and scheme amongst one another and place themselves above the common folk, but her influence over them was fairly close to absolute. Furthermore, there was nothing they loved more than to exercise their authority and compete for prestige, so they would fling themselves at any domestic cause that would earn them the favour of their Queen and raise their standing.
The Guilds, however…
“Did anyone take it upon themselves to work with the Guilds?” Draudillon asked.
Three infuriatingly neutral masks simultaneously popped up on the three noblewomen’s faces at her question. Ioena was probably looking the same behind her shoulder. If there was anything that Nobles disliked above all else, it was dealing with people who could stand their ground against them in an asymmetrical manner.
The Draconic Kingdom’s continually unstable state of security made managing land a more tenuous prospect than elsewhere. As a result, the Guilds enjoyed a more influential position relative to the nobility than they did in places like Re-Estize, Baharuth and Roble. This fact chafed on her Nobles more than they would have liked to admit, and there was little that they could do about it as Merchants were by nature more adaptable to adverse situations and were not chained by titles.
Generally speaking, the Guilds were essential to any country. When they had too much power, however, they introduced various problems as their interests were heavily skewed towards mercantile pursuits. Prosperity was all well and good, but a focus on profit alone made for a pitiful society. Maintaining a healthy balance in her country would be difficult now that everything had been shaken up and the recovery of the aristocracy would lag severely behind that of the Guilds.
“Well, is there one amongst you who has any confidence in dealing with them?”
The noblewomen exchanged looks. It was a silly question in more normal times, but someone falling over a precipice would snatch at even a blade of grass.
Nobles in the capital were divided into three types. First were the High Nobles who positioned themselves close to the centres of power. Second were individuals of proven capability who served in the Crown beyond their regular duties. This not only included those who worked in the ministries, but the people who served in her palace staff. They were not just pretty or handsome faces: they were highly educated and talented individuals who were in the early stages of promising careers.
The final category consisted of local Nobles who managed lands near the city. They were mostly ‘normal’, which meant that they were competent enough to run their territories and not much else.
Draudillon drummed her fingers against her armrest as she examined her group of makeshift ministers. Then another detail caught her attention.
“Hmm…why is it all women here, by the way? Don’t tell Us that all of the men died defending the palace.”
“The ones who survived went out into the city to help organise security, Your Majesty,” Ioena said. “I can’t speak for the quality of the recruits, but it’s better than nothing. On that note, we need a way to pay all of the people that they gather…”
“Mmh…gold is not worth much to the people right now and we need it for trade anyway, so how about the palace food stores?”
The noblewomen crinkled their noses in unison. What she was proposing was characteristic of how crooked authority figures leveraged their assets. Those who could eat remained strong while those who starved grew weaker and easier to police.
“I trust that Our staff will not abuse their positions…”
“O-of course not, Your Majesty!” Ioena said hurriedly, “The thought never crossed our minds! We’ll be extra sure to ensure that everyone understands this.”
“Umu. Then go out and have someone figure out how many We can afford to recruit for two weeks and let the ones out in the city know before they pick up too many people. The rest of you, go and get started with what we discussed.”
The three noblewomen curtailed in unison.
“By Your Majesty’s will.”
Lady Delerose, Lady Wenwyn and Lady Soruel filed out of the room. The doors whispered shut behind them. Draudillon sighed and slouched in her seat. A voice came from over her left shoulder.
“Would Your Majesty perhaps like some refreshment?”
She straightened again. How could she forget that Sebas Tian was there?
To her right, a frown appeared on Ioena’s face. A sly smile crept onto Draudillon’s lips. If Sebas Tian was a Butler, then…
“Umu,” Draudillon nodded. “Our throat is parched. Some wine would be much appreciated.”
She smiled inside as a cork popped and the rich aroma of fine wine wafted into the air.
What a wonderful man.
