Chapter 83 The leap year birthday

Chapter 83 The leap year birthday


The council chamber was cold and unwelcoming.

Lord Castellan sat at the far end of the table, his expression one of polite impatience. Lord Whitmore, the nervous young replacement for Lord Percival, sat near the window, wringing his hands.

"I've reviewed the inspector's report on the mill collapse," I said, placing a sheaf of papers on the table. "The report recommends 'further evaluation' before any repairs are authorized."

"A prudent recommendation," Castellan said. "We must ensure the repairs are necessary and cost-effective before committing funds."

"Necessary?" I stared at him. "The roof collapsed. Two workers were killed. The remaining workers are laboring under a tarpaulin. What further evaluation is needed?"

"The mill is old. It may be more cost-effective to demolish it and rebuild entirely. That would require significant investment. The treasury is still recovering from the debt crisis. We must be careful with expenditures."

"The treasury can afford to rebuild a mill. That is not such an expensive tax to undertake. It cannot afford to ignore the people who work there." I leaned forward. "These are not numbers on a ledger, Lord Castellan. They are living, breathing Fae who are risking their lives every day to feed this city. They deserve better than 'further evaluation.' They deserve better working conditions."

Castellan's expression flickered. "The Queen Consort speaks with great passion. But passion does not balance budgets."

"Then let me see the budget. Let me see exactly how much gold is available and where it's being spent. If we can afford to gild the palace plants, we can afford to repair a roof."

"The gilded plants are a tradition..." 

"The gilded plants are a waste. They're dying, Castellan. Dying because someone thought it was more important to make them beautiful than to keep them alive. Is that what we're doing to our people? Making them beautiful while they die?"

The chamber fell silent.

Lord Whitmore cleared his throat nervously. "Perhaps we could... allocate a portion of the palace renovation funds to the mill repairs? As a gesture of goodwill?"

Castellan shot him a withering look. "The palace renovations were approved by the late King. They are not to be touched."

"The late King is dead," I said. "The current King is my husband. And I think he would agree that feeding our people is more important than gilding our furniture."

Castellan's jaw tightened. "I will speak to His Majesty about the matter."

"Good. And I will be there when you do."

\-—————————

The meeting ended without resolution. Castellan kept insisting that there were no funds to spare. He knew  meeting with Cardan would work in my favour so he decided to argue with me all over again about the funds. 

I left the council chamber with my head high and my shadows seething. Liriel and Thalia were waiting outside, their faces anxious.

"How did it go?" Liriel asked.

"About as well as expected. Castellan is a bureaucrat. He cares more about buying more gold for the supposed palace renovation than spending money on the mill. He claims there's no money to spare and it's all been allocated because of the debt." 

"Then we go around him," Thalia said firmly. "We find another way."

I looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"The palace renovation funds. We know where they're being spent. We know how much is allocated. If we can prove that some of those funds are being wasted, truly wasted, not just on things we don't like, we can make a case for redirecting them."

"Sounds like a plan. But it will take time."

"Time we have. The mill workers have been waiting years. They can wait a little longer if it means real change."

I nodded, but my heart was heavy. The mill workers had already waited too long. Every day of delay was another day of danger, another day of fear.

But Thalia was right. We needed to be strategic. Brute force would only make enemies.

"Let's start with the gilded plants," I said. "They're the most obvious waste. And they're dying anyway."

\-——————————

The gossip started within days. It seemed like in the palace the jobless courtiers always found some news about me to occupy themselves with. 

"The Queen has been visiting the slums," the courtiers whispered. "She's been meeting with common mill workers. She's been meddling in affairs that don't concern her."

"Someone said she sat on the floor of a worker's hut and held a crying child."

"So scandalous!" 

"The Queen Consort should be above such things."

"Should she? Or is she simply too foreign to know better?"

I heard the whispers as I walked through the palace corridors. I saw the sidelong glances, the quickly averted eyes. The court thought I was degrading myself by caring about the poor. They thought my compassion was a weakness. What fools! 

They were wrong.

But their opinions didn't matter. What mattered was the mill people. The slow and painstaking process of building a kingdom where everyone mattered, not just the ones who were deemed high faes. 

\-————————

Cardan's birthday was approaching.

I had learned this from Liriel, who had learned it from the palace steward, who had learned it from the royal calendar. Fae birthdays were complicated things, because of their unnaturally long lifespans, Fae only celebrated their birthdays on leap years, once every four years. It made each celebration rare and precious. It made each gift significant. I couldn't relate with celebrating my birthday on leap years because in Hel my birthday was celebrated every blessed year. Birth week, to be more accurate. The whole kingdom of Hel threw a party on the beginning of the week to celebrate my birthday which always fell on the night of a full moon. 

"The King's birthday is in two weeks," Liriel said. "Princess Elowyn has already begun planning the celebration."

"Of course she has."

"She's calling it a 'grand banquet.' The entire court will be invited. There will be musicians, dancers, a fireworks display..." 

"Will Cardan want a grand banquet? He told me he  doesn't enjoy parties that much."

"He told his sister the same thing. She's planning it anyway."

I sighed. "Elowyn does what Elowyn wants. She always has."

"The question is: what will you give him?"

I had been thinking about that. Gifts for Fae birthdays were traditionally significant, not trinkets, but things of real value. Land, titles, magical artifacts. And for a king, the expectations were even higher.

"I need something special," I said. "Something that will remind him of me. Something he can't get from anyone else."

Liriel raised an eyebrow. "You're thinking of something from Hel?"

"I'm thinking of a Hel horse."

Thalia, who had been listening from the doorway, let out a low whistle. "A Hel horse? Those are rare. They're bred only in our realm, trained for battle and bloodshed. They're faster than Aurelian horses, stronger, more intelligent. And they bond with their riders for life."

"Exactly. Cardan loves horses. He rides every morning. A Hel horse would be... perfect."

"If you can get one."

"Which is why I'm going to write to my dear brother Maz."

\-————————-