Page 124 of Prize for the King
I purse my lips. “Your interest in our marital intercourse is unseemly,Mother.”
She cackles, not offended in the least. “Oh, you did it! Good girl. Sit.”
“I’m serious,” I say, planting my hands on my hips. “It’s disgusting that you…”
“Oh, get over yourself. I couldn’t care less what happens in your bedroom as long assomethingdoes. I need to make sure there’s an heir before I die. It’s the only reason why I stick to this odious, boring existence. Make haste and birth a healthy baby so I can rest in peace.”
That mollifies me somewhat, and I take a seat, while Idrina fusses with her blankets, arranging them elegantly around her person.
“Now, each minister has a book. They are required by royal law to keep one, and negligence in this matter is punishable by imprisonment or death in extreme cases. Has Magnar looked at their books since his return?”
“I don’t think so.”
She harrumphs, shaking her head. “No, he never does unless he’sforced. Good thing you took interest. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad you’re here. Magnar knows how to handle soldiers, granted, but those fat worms are another breed. Your father had ministers and advisors, correct?”
“Yes. He had his ways of dealing with them.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Human ways might work here, so try them later. For now, you need to ask for their books. All of them.”
I nod slowly, my head pounding, just like Magnar’s. “There are thirteen ministers. I assume the books are thick and written in your language.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Idrina says, settling in with a satisfied smile. “Just you having the books will make them sweat. They’ve always skimmed off the top, and the longer they go unchecked, the more audacious they get. Now, you can bring me a few books, and your knights can look into the others. All you need to do is find one error.”
“One? Shouldn’t we find all?”
She shakes her head with a scoff. “All? And how will you replace thirteen ministers at once? No, girl, the trick is to behead one and put the fear of the king in the rest so they do their jobs. And bring in someone eager and hard-working to replace the scapegoat, someone they’ll have to compete against. A woman, if you get Magnar to accept her. Hrognar never wanted to hear it, but Magnar just might.”
I nod, convinced by her reasoning. There’s only one thing I don’t like.
“Must the scapegoat minister be beheaded? Can’t we just dismiss him?”
“And have him start a rebellion or sell sensitive information?” she asks with a look of utter contempt.
“No, girl. They know secrets, and secrets have power. Never dismiss a minister or anyone who knows too much, for the matter.If you have a close friend you share secrets with, and then you have a falling out, it’s your job to have this friend put in the ground. If you’re careless, next thing you know, your children will be slaughtered and your crown stolen. You must stop with this human softness. Oh, and get a tutor, learn to read Agnidari. I’ll only be around until you give birth, but you can have those after I’m gone.”
She waves her hand at a narrow bookshelf where six thick tomes bound in red leather sit side by side.
“My diaries,” she explains with a smirk. “If you want to learn how to be an Agnidari queen, you only need to read those. Make sure you have a string of pearls to clutch. It’s a scandalizing read.”
I laugh despite myself, and she grins back. I’ve grown to like her very much. I know Magnar is fond of his mother, too, and looks in on her for a few minutes every evening, if only to wish her a good night.
The idea of having one of the ministers executed still weighs heavy in my chest, though not as much as it should. I consider this option seriously, comparing its pros and cons until I make my peace with it.
Sometimes, I think I must have inherited my father’s calculating streak. He never had trouble sacrificing lives to meet his goals, and well, if that’s the best way to getmyministers in line, so be it.
And since that’s acceptable, why not go a step further?
When the ministers file into the room, I watch them all with an impassive smile. Most of them bow and murmur greetings, neatly hiding their disappointment to see me here yet again, which means they’ll have to make an effort to speak my language.
Then, the Minister of Beekeeping comes in. He’s one of the youngest, a man in his early forties with long black hair thinning at his temples, and eyebrows trimmed into thin, severe lines. As soon as his eyes fall on me, his nose wrinkles with obvious dislike. I smile serenely. He’s been the most disrespectful toward both me and Magnar during our previous meetings, but I was willing to give hima last chance.
He's flung it away with that disrespectful look.
Even better, Magnar saw it. He watches the minister, whose name is Ronan, with his eyes cooly narrowed. I beckon my husband to lean closer so I can whisper in his ear. Rude, but I am the queen and get to be rude now, as Idrina keeps reminding me.
“I’d like to try something to make them more cooperative. Will you let me?”
Magnar snorts, and when I pull away, his tired eyes shine with mischief.
