Page 13 of A Slipper in the Smoke
“This isn’t illegal, is it?” she asked hesitantly.
“Oh no, not at all. Crown-sanctioned work, I promise. Just needs to be… hush-hush. Discreet. My job will be on the line if I don’t have it fixed immediately—”
“All right,” she said. “I’ll do it. Give me at least two hours.”
PhillippeEdwardeAlexanderII,the Crown Prince of Toulouse, (known to his family as Pip) was bored.
He was bored of stuffy council meetings and politicians and nobles looking to gain favour. He was bored of everyone skirting around the recent attacks, and the rumours circling about Petragrad. He was bored of no one saying what they meant.
Mostly, he was just bored.
“It’s important to pay attention in the meetings,” his assistant, Susan, reminded him constantly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you almost dozing off in that last one.”
“Every single one isexactly the same, Susan! Sparta is awful. Look what they’re doing. Here’s what we’re doing. Such a good job. More money, please.”
“Ah, so youwerepaying attention.”
“Well, at least for the first three.”
Susan narrowed her grey eyes at him and clapped him round the back of her head with her clipboard. She was a woman composed entirely of sharp edges and neutral colours, permanently dressed in the silver robes of the Toulousian council, her grey-brown hair scraped into a bun. She had been a fixture in the palace for as long as Pip could remember, as much a part of it as the galleries dedicated to his ancestors. Even here, in Petragrad, she looked like she belonged.
Here, Pip was the one out of his element, surrounded by people he didn’t know, in a land he wasn’t familiar with and hadn’t even been permitted to see. He and the rest of the ambassadors from the other kingdoms had been restricted to the palace grounds since the moment they arrived a week ago.
“For your protection,” the queen’s advisor had explained.
Pip wasn’t so sure. Things were a little more open in Toulouse. He frequently walked amongst the people of the city, learning about them and their lives, preparing to serve them. Here, the palace couldn’t be further from the rest of the mechanical metropolis, hidden behind an ocean of clouds.
“Petragrad is the largest of all the cities,”his old tutor had told him.“With the tallest dome.”
The Dome was tall to accommodate the ridiculous height of the palace. A matter of pride, yet without anything to truly be proud of. How did the beauty of a building tell you anything about the land itself?
Pip massaged the back of his head, reeling from Susan’s admonishment. “Why do I tolerate you?”
“Because I am remarkably good at my job,” she said primly, scanning something on her board. “And I’ve worked for your family for so long now it would really be awkward to fire me.”
“It’s tempting at times.”
“Be like firing an aunt—”
“You are not my aunt, Susan—”
“A trusted friend—”
“Friend is a strong word…”
“You wound me.”
Pip sighed, more loudly than he meant to. “I’m going for a walk.”
“You have croquet on the lawns at midday.”
Pip swallowed his displeasure. “I won’t be late.”
She scribbled something down on her clipboard, ignoring Pip’s scowl—he could tell by the wry smile on her face she’d seen it.
“I’ll see you then,” he said tartly, and swept out of the room.
He was glad she hadn’t insisted on taking an escort. He was scarcely allowed anywhere in the grounds of the Toulousian Palace without a guard, or several. Admittedly, the Grand Palace was a lot easier to access than the Imperial one, which had only the elevators, as far as he could tell. Security was restrictive at the moment, likely because they’d had a break-in three months ago. The palace had made no official statement, of course, but Pip had heard the whispers. A disgraced scientist and a former soldier. They’d stolen something from the labs, althoughwhatPip had no idea, and were rumoured to be working with Sparta. Or the rebels.
