[Main Chapter] Objection! [Exposition]

The Queen and her High Judge discuss politics.

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Mon Mar 25, 2019 2:02 pm

16th of Bethas, 2719
The Queen's Residence, Vienda
Hatred is gained as much by good works as by evil.

Niccoló Machiavelli
"No!"

The roar echoed through the chamber, bouncing off the marbled stone walls and reverberating in Queen Ester's ears. High Judge Azmus slammed his hand down on the bedside table, putting a crack in the thick finish. Two of the Seventen guards near the door started forward, but the Queen lifted a thin, white hand to stop them. She wasn't afraid of the powerful galdor, far to ill to fear much of anything anymore.

"William," she said, and her voice was as thin as porcelain. She'd missed the entirety of Vienda's famous Clock's Eve's celebrations and she was well aware of the rumors that she was dying setting the papers on fire every week since the first of Intas. It was all she could do to raise her voice above the angry drivel of the man who'd insisted on seeing her this morning as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, "Your persecution complex is only hurting this city. I will not see Vienda torn apart by your personal—"

"It is not personal!" The man bellowed. Ester flinched, visibly pained by his tone of voice. "I am an elected official and my word is law. I took the measures I thought necessary to protect this city in Yaris, backed by the Commander of the Seventen, only to see my orders turned on their head half a year later. What in the Good Lady's name is this reversal going to accomplish but encouraging rebellion once again?"

A tendon was throbbing in Azmus' neck, and veins were beginning to start out along his temples. His face was beet red as he seethed at the Queen.

In a tired, patient voice, the Queen whispered a spell that pushed aside the curtains of her bed, so as to see the High Judge better. The soft golden light from the room illuminated her form, draped in thick blankets and propped up against a tall cushion. She looked up at Azmus again, squinting in the light.

"I cannot watch you every moment of every day," she admitted weakly. "And we both know the King is not fit to approve your orders. So, then, how shall I rein you in, William? Some days I am...too weak to even speak. You continue to rule over this government as though you were already King. Yet you know nothing of commerce, of religion, of the countless groups that your actions make me accountable to. The Headmistress and her Magisters would never consider you—"

"Your Highness," interrupted Azmus boldly, but his tone was noticeably quieter, still trembling with barely controlled rage. "The Congress, they elected me as High Judge. Who is to say that they wouldn't consider me worthy of a higher position should it prove itself suddenly available? I speak for their desires, their concerns. I uphold their laws. I judge the lower races because they cannot govern themselves. The wicks are a nuisance, Queen, and they have brought nothing but harm and destruction to our dear city. To our Kingdom."

"The wicks have been here for as long as history remembers," returned Ester bitterly. "Some of them have human family, as much as it pains me to think of that. The amount of trade they bring to this Kingdom is irreplaceable. When the census was taken, we issued them writs of residence, and according to the census bylaws that makes them citizens, they should not be able to be reversed. Your decision was completely against everything our Kingdom stands for, and I am frankly shocked that you did not consult me when you revoked an entire decades' worth of writs. I cannot believe Congress allowed you to trample over centuries of peaceful work over a riot Commander Morde should be working harder to prevent."

"I did not wish to cause you any...stress," said Azmus scornfully, barely containing his sneer at the Queen's weak condition. "I felt it might upset you to deal with such matters. The riot in Yaris was by far the worst on rectord."

"Matters of state, William, are my job description. I am well enough to see to it that you are not abusing my citizens."

"The wicks have no loyalty to our kingdom's well-wrought government. Don't pretend you're not aware." He insisted. "Even the stationary wicks still answer to their...Durgs. If those heathens were to declare war on us, the city—no, the Kingdom's—entire infrastructure could be compromised. Our Cycle is ending, and it's time to consider how best to protect us all for the passing of power."

"You are paranoid," she riposted blithely, and raised a hand to her hot forehead, brushing back a few strands of jet-black hair. "And I'll have no more of you. If you can contain yourself later, William, we shall discuss this with the rest of the Congress. For now, I am allowing those with a writ of residence back into the city. Come Loshis, all of those revoked writs will be reinstated and you won't be touching them again."

Azmus' lip quivered, and he narrowed his eyes at the Queen before turning on his heel and storming away from the beside.

"And William," added the Queen, raising a bone-white finger at him. He paused, and turned around.

"If you go over my head again," she said, "I will not protect you."

This cryptic phrase meant nothing to the Seventen guards by the door, but Azmus' face became like stone; the color drained from his cheeks, and he hurried out of the chamber without another word, his steel-toed boots clicking frantically against the marble floor of the Palace halls.

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