CHAPTER NINE
A whole split into parts
does not corrupt, unless the
parts lose their integrity
and weaken once apart and
soon forget
their nature is not many
but one.
Complete.
—THE HARMONY OF BEING
Jasminda strode into her office, her evening gown billowing around her. She was pleased that everyone she’d gathered was already here. Nadette Gaviareel, the royal event planner, stood with perfect posture behind a straight-backed chair at the small, round conference table in the corner of the room. Next to her stood Camm, Ilysara, and Darvyn. Two Elsirans, two Lagrimari, and one half-breed, Jasminda thought to herself with a chuckle.
“Your Majesty.” Nadette gave an extremely proper curtsey. “The guests have already begun arriving to your brothers’ birthday party, and there are still some details that I would like to check on and make sure of.”
It was as polite a way of inquiring as to her reason for being here as any. Jasminda crossed the room and took a seat at the table. The others did the same, except for the planner. “Your staff is impeccable, Nadette. I’m quite sure you’ve already checked everything twice. The twins will live if the ice is delivered late or the decorations droop. I need to talk to you about something very important.”
The woman raised her brows and sat, clasping her hands before her on the table. When they’d first met during the planning of the royal wedding, she and Nadette had butted heads, but Jasminda had come to respect the woman. Certainly she was a frivolous aristocrat, but she truly wanted the best for Elsira. She had recommended Camm for the assistant position, and that morning Camm had pointed out that Nadette held a degree in public relations from Adara University. Jasminda had requested the woman stop by her office before the party started, along with Darvyn and her two assistants.
“I’m putting together an … advisory board,” Jasminda began. “Tomorrow we will be announcing a public referendum on the subject of unification versus separation. The vote will be held in ten days. I want to create a media campaign to influence the results.”
Silence reigned as several pairs of eyes blinked owlishly.
Camm and Nadette shared a glance, but it was the assistant who spoke up. “Your Majesty, the palace must be seen as an impartial party during referendums.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Otherwise how would people have confidence that the results will be properly carried out?”
“There are few in the land who do not already know my position on the matter,” Jasminda replied. “The other side has been waging media warfare practically since the Mantle first came down. Unification needs a strong voice. I realize it can’t be mine, and in public I will do my best to appear objective. But you must understand that I, above all people, have a personal stake in the results of this vote. My family could be split down the middle if the Lagrimari are forced out into a separate territory. My very existence here could be questioned.”
Camm swallowed and nodded. Ilysara’s expression was grim.
“So why hold the vote in the first place?” Darvyn asked, leaning forward. “You are queen. Can’t you just…” He waved a hand in the air. “Make things happen?”
Jasminda smiled wryly. “Wouldn’t that be nice? But this is an issue that is tearing the people apart. Our constitution has a host of barriers to granting blanket citizenship to the Lagrimari—or any other group. And the Council is as divided as the people. The Goddess is not often helpful, but She does know Her way around the law. This vote is really the only way to answer the question once and for all, and quickly. In instances like this, the will of the people can supersede all else. Whatever the Elsiran citizens and the refugees seeking asylum decide will be the new policy going forward, and I think we need to advocate strongly for unity.”
She turned to Nadette, who sat frowning, a faraway expression on her face. “I suppose I should ask your politics on this before we go forward. Are you pro- or anti-unification?”
Nadette focused and blinked rapidly. “Pro-unification, Your Majesty. I think what the Lagrimari people have suffered has been horrific. This land is big enough for us all.”
Relief flooded Jasminda. “So will you help me?”
The woman tapped her finger on her lips and then pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook and pencil from her pocket. She began scribbling rapidly. “I’m thinking a multipart series on life under the thumb of the True Father, printed in the largest newspaper with audio clips on the nightly newsreader’s reports. Tear-jerking stuff: mothers and children separated, man’s inhumanity to man, that type of thing.” She stared at her notes, underlining a word. “I’ll contact Hazelle Harimel, she’s an influential reporter.”
Jasminda groaned internally. “That woman hates me. Every piece she writes is another log on the fire for those who want to burn me in effigy.”
Nadette nodded absently. “So imagine if we’re able to sway her and turn her to our side? What we really need is to humanize the refugees, draw the people in viscerally to their plight.”
While Jasminda was glad the woman was on board and seriously contemplating the options, she balked internally at the idea that the refugees weren’t automatically thought of as human in the first place. However, Ilysara tilted her head, considering. “What about photographic essays on the war orphans and those who survived the camps and the mines? I know some refugees who managed to transport a box of photo negatives from Lagrimar. If we can get them developed, I’m certain there will be some engaging photos there.”
“Yes, that’s excellent,” Nadette replied. The two women continued trading ideas on how best to tug on the heartstrings of the Elsirans, and hopefully push public opinion toward unification.
The phone on the desk across the office rang, and Camm jumped up to get it. Darvyn leaned over to Jasminda. “How can I help?”
“I know you’re not a Keeper of the Promise any longer, but you still have friends among them, right?”
He nodded.
“We need to take the pulse of the refugees. They will get an equal vote and I know they have not exactly felt welcomed here.”
“I’ll get some people on it. When do you expect Jack back?”
Jasminda blinked. “He’ll be in Fremia for two weeks.”
Darvyn looked stunned. “He’s staying after this morning’s attack?” Her gaze darted to the other two at the table. “They can’t hear us,” he said. He must have sung a spell to dampen the sounds of their conversation.
“Oola said that we should keep the attack quiet. So as not to cause alarm.”
“Quiet, yes, from the public but from Jack as well?” He was incredulous and sat back, rubbing the back of his neck. “That is Her playbook, it doesn’t have to be yours. He would want to know.”
“You’re right, he would. But he would rush back and not be able to do anything. She’s right about that. We need Fremia; the wraith attack this morning is an Earthsinger problem.”
“If what I saw in Yaly will be repeated here, it will be a problem for everyone soon enough.” He took a deep breath, face still grim. “This is your choice, but for the record, I think you should tell him.”
Jasminda nodded sadly. He was probably right, but so was Oola.
Camm approached the table. “The Chief of Constables has arrived.”
“All right, I’ll see him in Jack’s office. Thank you.” She turned back to Darvyn. “I’ll need to talk to you afterward about the other new development.” He frowned again; she had little desire to tell him of the True Father’s escape, but he needed to know.
As Camm left the room, she rose, motioning for the others to stay seated. “I’d like regular updates on your progress. Pull in whomever you need that you feel you can trust. We don’t have much time.”
The women nodded and Darvyn’s expression held both worry and disapproval. She swept out of the room, his doubts following her.
The Chief of Constables, Lennard Floreen, was a man of average height and build. He was clean-shaven with short-cropped hair and a distinct lack of freckles, unusual for an Elsiran. He bowed when Jasminda entered the room and held himself erect with a posture honed in the military.
“Thank you for coming, Chief Floreen. I know that with all of the unrest in the city, your time is even more valuable than ever.”
“I am honored, Your Majesty. How can I be of service?”
She took a seat in an armchair and motioned for him to do the same in the chair next to her. Camm entered with a tray of water and tea and set it on the coffee table between them. He poured Jasminda a cup then retreated to the corner when Floreen declined a refreshment.
Jasminda cleared her throat. “The monarchy does not generally concern itself with the day-to-day running of the city, however, we are in unprecedented times, are we not?”
“Certainly, Your Majesty.”
“As such, I would like to suggest a city-wide curfew, due to the rise in terrorist activity. I know the aldermen are against it, but I believe it’s in the best interest of the citizens and for the safety of all. As your men would be responsible for enforcing and maintaining it, I wanted your input and to see if this is something you would consider influencing the aldermen on.”
Floreen was a no-nonsense man, it was clear in everything from his posture to his hair to the shine of his boots. He was not an aristocrat, like the group of elected aldermen who ran things in Rosira, but his word held sway with them.
“It would require significant overtime hours, Your Majesty, and we’ve been advised that the budget would not be able to accommodate such. Curfews are generally unpopular, and the force will encounter resistance. The extra pay is much needed for the additional effort and to uphold morale.”
“And if the funds could be found?” That was a big “if” considering the state of their coffers, but lives were at stake.
“Then I would be in favor. It would improve our ability to keep the people safe.”
Jasminda was formulating a plan that would doubtless decrease her already tenuous popularity. She was certain that some among the elite would call for her head on a pike, but her reputation had never been important to her.
“Excellent. I’m glad to hear it. These have been difficult times for us all.” She sipped her tea, considering how to broach the next topic delicately. “You are receiving the briefings from the Intelligence Service, I trust?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Daily.”
“And so you’re aware that Zann Biddel is a person of extreme interest in the terrorist attacks.”
He narrowed his eyes slightly and nodded. “I am.”
“There has been, as of yet, no firm evidence of his involvement, though all signs point to it.” She stirred her tea, though she’d added no sugar or cream, stalling. Politics and gamesmanship were not her forte. Jack may have been able to do this delicately, but of course, he would not approve of this at all. “I should speak plainly,” she finally said.
“That would be appreciated, Your Majesty.” A hint of a smile graced his lips but was gone almost immediately.
“The Intelligence Service has not been able to find the evidence we need to get Biddel off the streets. And people continue to die. You and I have not spoken personally before, but as a representative of the law I want to know if there is a way that you could help us find justice for all of the victims.”
His jaw tensed, and Jasminda stiffened. She called Earthsong to her to reveal his mood and emotions, but he was a brick wall. She got a faint wisp of curiosity and a thread of respect for her boldness, but that was it.
“You would like me to arrest Zann Biddel?”
“Yes, I very much would. And I personally don’t care if you have to make up a crime, fabricate a witness, and conjure evidence in a counterfeiter’s laboratory in order to do it, the blood on his hands is thick and flowing. But I would never impugn your integrity with such a suggestion.”
The faint smile appeared for longer this time before he squashed it.
“I understand that my candor may not be particularly regal,” Jasminda said.
“I believe that frankness is much lacking in our society, Your Majesty.” His fingers drummed against the hat that sat on his knee. He looked into the distance for a moment while Jasminda worried if she’d just made a huge error in judgement. She did not dare peek at Camm to see his expression.
Chief Floreen finally met her gaze, Earthsong still revealing nothing of his emotions. “I lost my niece in the temple bombing,” he said gruffly. “She was just nine years old. Dreamed of joining the Sisterhood.”
He cleared his throat as grief funneled through a crack in the armored shell he kept around his heart. The intensity of it struck Jasminda like a blow to the chest. She took a deep breath to hide her reaction.
“I would like to see the bastard responsible drawn and quartered.” He pulled himself together, straightening even more until she thought his spine would crack. “But I won’t break the law to do it.”
He held Jasminda’s gaze as nerves flittered in her chest. She nodded, respecting his decision and went to set her teacup down.
“However, our grand land does have a great many laws.” A true smile graced his lips, transforming his face from severe to slightly less severe.
“Yes, you’re quite right, Chief Floreen. I have become a scholar of our legislation in recent weeks. It is both vast and fascinating.”
“Indeed.”
“I’m glad we were able to come to an agreement on this.”
“It’s been my pleasure, Your Majesty.” He rose and bowed before exiting the room.
Camm came over to grab the tea tray and she caught his grim expression.
“You think I went too far?” she asked.
He paused, considering. “I think it’s a distinct possibility.”
She nodded and dismissed him, staring around the room, full of Jack’s things, and missing her husband.
“Sometimes going too far is the only way,” she said to no one in particular.