DIPLOMATIC EFFECTS / CH. 12:PARKING
TRUTHSAYER'S OFFICE, ST PETERSBURG, 10AM, FRIDAY 23RD JAN 2278
A young woman, dressed in defiantly French fashion despite the weather knocked on the door and entered with another young woman trailing after her, who was dressed more sensibly. Before the man in a mask behind the desk could ask how he could help, she said “Bonjour. You may not help me,” in French-accented Russian. “I require a female truthsayer, preferably a believing Christian, for this afternoon, some time next week and the week after also, and probably on an occasional basis after that. She will be someone who can keep her thoughts under control and her mouth shut.”
“A series of job interviews?”
“No.”
“May I ask the purpose?”
“Do you have someone available?”
“I believe it could be arranged, Madam.”
“Highness.” Svetlana corrected, “I am princess Claire of Basse-Monaco, you may address me as highness.”
“I apologise highness, if I might know the purpose? It would help me to decide who to ask.”
“My privacy is important to me,” she said, and looked at him and decided he could know she wanted help learning to avoid making decisions near truthsayers.
“That sort of training takes a lot of time, your highness.”
“Select someone with plenty of it then. It will be a single person, not a team. Give him the address, and instructions please, Krista.”
“Certainly, highness,” Krista said and wrote the address down for him. “It is in a high security area. There will be police guards; they will require identification and check her for hard objects which will be examined. Tell the truthsayer this, and remind her to only carry only her truthsayer I.D. If she wears a wrist unit, she will be required to make a call with it, at which point an A.I. will access the subscriber information and its call history, to check for unsavory connections. The system should not leak data to the guards, but I have heard rumours it is not as secure as it should be, so it would be better if she did not bring one. Unless she wants a special one just for her visits, of course. At the end of the afternoon, she will have access to a phone to call the office here to arrange someone to pick her up. I don't know but she should assume that phone is bugged. Once past the guards, she should go straight ahead to the yellow house, and knock on the white door. The guards on the gate will be expecting her but should not be willing to give instructions of where she should go based on anyone's name.”
“So she needs to remember yellow house, white door.”
“Yes,” Krista agreed.
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DUCHESS OF MOSCOW SQUARE, ST PETERSBURG, FRIDAY 23RD JANUARY
Sofia, truthsayer wife of the chief-truthsayer followed the instructions carefully and looked around. Big houses, small mansions in fact, lined the square. It was obviously a place where the rich and powerful lived, and the yellow house was the most impressive of the lot. Her husband had described the security procedures in place as identical to the palace, and she began to guess why: this was probably where the Tsar's relatives lived. She gingerly approached the house, spotted the white door, and knocked.
It was opened only a few seconds later by a young woman dressed much as any other teenager might be.
“Hi, come in,” Svetlana said, “Any problems at the gate?”
“None at all. You are her highness of Basse-Monaco's lady in waiting?”
“No,” Svetlana grinned, “I'm the princess of Basse-Monaco. But I'm at home and relaxed and would like you to call me Claire. I also have a number of other titles, but don't bother about those. Oh, in case you get curious, I'll warn you that I am a relative of his Imperial Majesty the Tsar, and so trying to look up my other titles or family will probably get you a visit from the Secret Services. So please just think of me as Claire du Basse-Monaco.”
“I was told you spoke with a French accent,” Sofia said, puzzled.
“I can if you like. I can also play the haughty autocrat if you want me to.”
“My associate was concerned about that as well.”
“And yet you came, thank you.”
“We do not have so many jobs that I can turn down a multiple day one.”
“You are nevertheless showing some bravery. That was my intention.”
“I do wonder why,” Sofia said, showing more bravery.
“Because if some secrets leak, someone who was not brave might panic. As for your work levels, those will probably change when the charter comes into force.”
“How...? Oh.”
“Her Imperial Highness Crown Princess Svetlana can be a pain at times, but she keeps me informed of things. Hence my visit, actually. You're going to be busy soon.”
“I pray we're not going to regret seeking the charter.”
“You applied for one?”
“Two years ago.”
“How am I doing at avoiding decisions?”
“I heard you decide to ask that now, just before that, you decided not to tell me something, but I didn't hear what, which surprises me. You have quite good control.”
“But not good enough.”
“What you wish to do is very hard, highness.”
“Claire,” Svetlana corrected.
“As you wish, Kler,” she said, not quite getting the pronunciation right, “May I ask why you wish to mark yourself out as different? Thought-hearers are used to ignoring irrelevant decisions.”
“I have too many secrets, I wish them to remain that way, not just for my sake - it would be inconvenient for me, but not a disaster — but for the sake someone who overhears me thinking something and accidentally blurts it out in surprise. It's either that or wear a sign around my neck saying 'danger, thought hearers stay away.' And that's not very fashionable.”
“You consider yourself a danger to thought-hearers?”
“Don't you think I should?” Svetlana said, “When someone publicly blurting out another name or another title I hold could get them thrown in prison? I have, according to instructions I received, mentally rehearsed how this conversation might go, made decisions beforehand what I would or wouldn't tell you, and so on. But I can't do that all the time, there are not enough hours in the day. I do not want you to know the secrets I'm trying to keep from people, but this is a safe place for you to react with surprise, if you do learn anything I think you shouldn't. If you don't think you can keep dangerous-to-you secrets, you may leave, without penalty and with full payment.”
“Thank you, Kler. I will not leave.”
“I said you were brave.”
“I find myself too curious.”
“About me? About dangerous secrets? About Basse-Monaco? About life on the edge of power? About my social life? We are now off-script. I ask that you teach me what you can, and I will try to practice, as part of that, I imagine we will have to do a lot of talking. How is your relationship with God?”
“This morning I prayed that some work would come my way, that I would not have to take up the court work the charter speaks of, or if I did then I would not be so afraid. God is Good.”
“He is. I have been warned not to base my faith on sight, on answered prayers. But I thank God he heard your first prayer, and perhaps I can also help with the second, if your fear is basically a fear of being near royalty.”
“Or upsetting royalty?”
“Svetlana is in favour of the greater role of truthsayers. His imperial majesty the Tsar is not opposed, her majesty the Tsarina agrees with her daughter. Do your job well and you have little to fear.”
“But still it took two years for the application to be granted.”
“It took perhaps ten minutes. I suspect your original application arrived at a very inconvenient time or, more likely, was conveniently lost before it reached his Imperial Majesty. If you wish, there is a procedure for finding out.”
“How complicated is the procedure?” Sofia asked.
“I judge an appropriate time, and ask his Imperial majesty if he recollects anything similar, about two years ago. It would be better if you could get me a copy of the application, of course.”
“And the appropriate time?”
“Probably just after a senior judge has been found guilty.”
“Your highness, do you know, might the terms of the charter be changed?” Sofia asked.
“Tell me of your objection,”
“It is not my objection, but some members are not happy with the thought of royal oversight. I and some others wonder what that means, since other clauses say only members can see the membership list.”
“Ah, that one. So far you have no unlisted members with titles, I expect, or if you do, then they keep their titles secret. When they join you, your leader or leaders will know their name and title, others will not. They will be the ones to provide oversight, as it has been in other nations. Until that time, the oversight will be less direct.”
“You are well informed.”
“I try to be, yes.”
“You decided not to say you were cousins with the crown princess.”
“What should I have done?”
“The trick is to think about your options, but not reject any, just select the one you're going to say.”
“I'd need to become indecisive?” Svetlana asked, horrified.
“I don't think that'd be possible, Kler.” Sofia said, “I'm suggesting that while you're choosing what to say, you rank ideas. Deciding 'I'm not going to tell her that, or that or that.' is the problem. Decisions are loud, louder than normal thought, it is possible for a thought hearer to try to listen to every decision, but it's like trying to listen and categorize every conversation in a crowded room, it's exhausting and you get a headache. The brain is very good, however at ignoring things that are boring. In a crowded room, you can tune into what one person is saying. I don't think that's possible with thought-hearing, but we do tune out all the general chatter. But if someone says something aggressive in the crowded room, that gets heard, or mentions your name. It's much more like that. If you keep your thoughts boring, then accidental overhearing won't happen.”
An inner door burst open, “Lana, can I borrow your hairbrush? Mine's vanished. Oh, oops. Sorry.”
“Truthsayer, meet my cousin, Nadiya. Nadiya, say hello to truthsayer 2517, then look on top of the bag of rice, for some reason.”
“Really? Oh, yes, I got a message I just had to read. Hi,” Nadiya said, “Urm, why are you talking to a truthsayer, Lana?”
“The truthsayer is here to help me learn to hide my identity when I'm being Claire Du Basse-Monaco; like now.”
“Err. Sorry Claire. I'll run away and hide in terror, then, shall I?”
“No. Since you're here, you might as well stay. The truthsayer was just telling me about keeping my thoughts boring and general chit-chat. Not deciding to dose your underwear with itching powder just before you go on stage in front of thousands, just considering the option.”
“You wouldn't!” Nadiya, said, going white.
“Of course I wouldn't. Firstly someone told me recently that vengeance belongs to God and I'm no sort of Christian if I go stealing from him, and secondly you're family and we don't publicly embarrass family.”
“You had me worried there,” Nadiya said, looking relieved.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“The other thing the truthsayer said was that some of her fellow members were worried about the royal oversight clause.”
“Me too,” Nadiya said. “Do I have to?”
“Nadiya, that was careless,” Svetlana said, and turned to the truthsayer. “I apologise for my cousin's lack of self control, truthsayer. I expect you didn't need to know that.”
“I am the membership secretary, Kler. So if, as I suspect, Nadiya is to join us, I expect I do need to know. I further suspect you are also called Svetlana.”
“You are correct. Claire and Svetlana mean roughly the same thing. You may call me Svetlana if you wish, but in this part of the world people seem to automatically think that means I'm Crown Princess Svetlana, and in Monaco I am known as Claire.
“Basse-Monaco is part of Monaco?”
“Yes.”
“I now display my ignorance and wonder where Monaco is.”
“A pretty little piece of land squashed between France and the Mediterranean sea, close to the Italian border. Basse-Monaco is mostly the beach, however there is a family living there too. They live in upper-Basse-Monaco, and my grandmother made my language coach and friend the Marquise of there, which could have caused complications if she'd tried to levy a tax on her parents.”
“Your grandmother was princess of Basse-Monaco before you?”
“Yes. I inherited another title from her too, but let's not worry about that one. I'm not sure which title outranks which, but being princess of a beach is more fun. I heard yesterday that my recently passed parking law has let my bailiffs there impound ten illegally parked high performance sports-cars, and rather than just pay up, the owners have decided to fight me in the courts. Which means all the more income for my little principality, not to mention the bailiffs. If the courts take long enough I might end up with some sports cars to auction, but they've already doubled their fine.”
“You don't think you'll possibly lose the case?” Nadiya asked.
“I shouldn't. The parking fines were clearly displayed, and the border is clearly marked. Plus of course, Monaco's reinvented archaic laws give me the right to have them flogged or reduced to serfdom if they insult me. I'm a bit tempted to go there so they have the opportunity to.”
“Reinvented archaic laws?” Sofia asked.
“I've been doing some research. At the start of the age of chaos, Monaco was a principality with democratic laws. By the end, it was technically a feudal monarchy.”
“Interesting place to be a ruler,” Nadiya said.
“Oh yes! But until I passed the law about illegal parking, the only source of income was ice-cream sales in the summer. Almost all of that income fed the family that made them. So I couldn't actually live there without reducing my friend to poverty through higher rents.”
“Couldn't you have made an exception for her family, and get the rest of your tenants to pay more?” Sofia asked.
“What other tenants? Like I said, it's almost all beach. One house, one small car park, one ice-cream hut, one guy with deck-chairs to rent in the summer. But soon, a youth-hostel, bigger car park and a small campsite. Especially if I get more idiots parking their lovely expensive cars there.”
“Why does the value matter? A parking fine's a parking fine,” Nadiya asked.
“Two percent of the car's part-exchange value, per day or part,” Svetlana said, grinning. “So the family with an old car pay me a bit, but the obnoxiously rich banker flaunting his wealth with a brand new twin turbine fuel-guzzling machine gets to help pay for my new building project. Ten of them at once, and the project's at least a quarter funded already, I think, and my previously poor tenants can replace the odd luxury or two.”
“Forgive me highness, I didn't think royalty were supposed to be in favour of the redistribution of wealth.” Sofia said.
“It's charity, truthsayer. Just think of it as enforced charity from the upper-middle classes. And anyway, cash-strapped monarchs are very bad news for the populace, ask any history professor.”
“Claire, how much are your tenants getting from the illegal parking?” Nadiya asked.
“Fifty percent seemed fair at the time. After all, they do the work. All I did is write some laws that should have been in place for decades.”
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HIGH COURT OF MONACO, 5PM
“Your honour, thank you for opportunity to address this court. My clients are being deprived of their personal properly and faced with an extortionate so-called fine by the self-designated bailiffs of Basse-Monaco, which is a complete joke. The fee demanded is clearly entirely out of proportion for the nature of the offence, not to mention the cost of removing the clamp, and in any case this holding to ransom of their vehicles is entirely uncalled for. I humbly request you grant an order requiring the immediate release of my client's vehicle and punitive damages.”
“Your honour, might I ask a clarification?” Svetlana's lawyer asked. “Does the lawyer for the appellants claim that the appointment of the bailiffs of Basse-Monaco is a joke, the name of the region, or the region itself?”
“The very concept of a semi-autonomous region within Monaco is a joke! Why has there been no legal action against this extortionist who sets herself up as a princess?”
“On behalf of her royal highness of Basse-Monaco, I ask that that insult not be entered into the court record and instead it show that a disrespectful remark was made towards a high noble of this kingdom,” the lawyer said.
“Granted,” the judge agreed.
“I also ask that after this waste of court time has been brought to a swift conclusion, this lawyer be sanctioned for his scandalous insult towards her royal highness.”
“Her royal highness is present?” the judge asked.
“I am present electronically,” Svetlana said, from the telepresence unit in the spectator's gallery, “and while I hold no personal enmity towards this clearly ignorant man, the whole case seems to me to be an attempt to undermine my legal and constitutional authority to enact laws over my fiefdom and appoint such councillors and officers as I so wish. To my mind that sounds rather like sedition. I thus feel compelled to require that the lawyer presenting the case and these men and this woman, in whose name it was brought, should be arrested on suspicion of commissioning that crime, so that wiser minds than mine may determine if indeed it has been sedition under the legal definition, and who bears the blame.”
“Thank you your highness,” the judge said, “I was indeed about to respond that this court has no power to overrule the law, and the law of Basse-Monaco is clear. Case dismissed as spurious, all costs shall be borne by the appellants. Council for the appellants shall pay damages to her royal highness for the insult given. Damages shall be equal to five working days of his average income over the last six months, full accounts will to presented to this court within two weeks. Given the ease with which they might flee the country to escape justice, the appellants arrested at her highness's order shall have no opportunity for bail.”
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NEWS REPORT, MONACO NEWS, FRIDAY 23RD JANUARY.
Nine foreigners held for seditious court case
A case was today brought before the high court of Monaco that can be summarised as being 'we believe that Basse-Monaco is a joke, and even if there is a princess of Basse-Monaco, her officials do not have the right to enforce her laws about illegal parking.' [permission has been kindly given by her royal highness princess Claire du Basse-Monaco to print this toned-down version of the insult.] The complainants objected to the scale of the fine being linked to the (trade-in) value of their illegally parked super-cars. Rather than placing a fixed fee fine which the average working class family would find eye-wateringly painful and the ultra-rich a minor inconvenience, the princess elected last week to impose a fine related to the value of the illegally parked vehicle, so that the deterrent would be noticeable to all owners of private vehicles. Attacking the right of a local government to make parking laws was never going to be the most intelligent move made in a court room, but things went from bad to worse for the people bringing the case because the princess had arranged to be telepresent in the courtroom's public gallery to witness this historic first court case brought against her government. When the crown lawyer claimed insult on her behalf, she confirmed her presence and questioned whether his line of argument counted as sedition. The judge obviously agreed there was a case to be tried and denied bail.
The case against the parking fines was of course dismissed and the fines continue to accumulate.
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THE PALACE, MONACO, 7.45PM
“You ordered they be arrested for sedition?” Arianne asked.
“Yes.” Svetlana replied over the telepresence unit, “And then the judge felt they might skip town and so ordered them held without bail.”
“Good man, that judge,” Hervé commented. “Doesn't stand for much nonsense in his court. When they're found guilty, any idea what you want to do to them?”
“No. Certainly not enslaved or flogged. I think that'd be too severe for trying to escape a parking fine.” Svetlana said.
“They do have goods illegally on your land, cousin,” Hervé pointed out, grinning, “you could require them to hand them over.”
“I don't want it to seem like I did it for the cars or the money, Hervé. Nor do I want to cause international outrage. They're all foreigners, after all. The local guy paid his fine this morning.”
“Highness,” Arianne started.
“Yes, your ladyship?”
“Oh all right then, Claire, do you actually want to insist on a trial? If they are found guilty of sedition then there aren't many options.”
“You want me to drop charges?” Claire asked.
“I was wondering if you'd be willing to offer them a royal pardon.”
“After discussions with his majesty?”
“Why can't Arianne get the glory?” Hervé asked.
“Because you're trying to avoid people knowing you're going out aren't you?”
“One of them's Swiss isn't he?” Arianne asked.
“I've actually no idea,” Svetlana said.
“One Swiss-German, one Swiss-French, three French, the woman is from Luxembourg, three Germans,” Hervé reported, “mostly bankers, but the Swiss-German is in insurance, and the woman is apparently a professional photographer.”
“That must pay better than I think.” Arianne said.
“Daddy is a banker, apparently,” Hervé reported, “and her car is pretty old, according to what René sent. I'm guessing it was her twenty-first birthday present, or something.”
“Hmm. So maybe she can't pay.” Arianne suggested.
“OK, but who planned it?” Svetlana asked, “Are we talking about them just hiring a lawyer and asking him to get the fine reduced, did they dictate how to proceed or did they just listen with half an ear and say go for it?”
“Pretty traumatic experience if it was the first situation,” Hervé said.
“OK, OK, I'll pardon them tonight if it looks at all like it was option one or three, and tomorrow if it's option two. But unless we're talking real hardship, they're paying the fines. Three days now.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Your majesty,” the royal secretary said, coming in. “Sorry to disturb you, but the consuls from Germany, France and Luxembourg would like to talk to you urgently.”
“Marquise Arianne, you are my spokeswoman, I will be talking to Switzerland.”
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BERNE UNIVERSITY, 8PM
“Rudolph? Clarie.”
“Hello! I thought you didn't have a wrist unit, or even use them.”
“I don't. But I'm at home, and I do have a land-line.”
“Oh, right. Do I get to know the number some time?”
“Hmmm, I'll think about it. Have you heard what I did about two and a half hours ago?”
“Err, no.”
“A group of nine foreigners and one local parked illegally at seven in the evening on Wednesday night. Yesterday, they decided to go to court. The local guy then heard what line the lawyer was going to take and decided to pay up instead. The lawyer insulted me in court, calling me such things as a self-proclaimed princess and extortionist, which got him in trouble, but the rest of his argument was that Basse-Monaco didn't have the right to clamp his clients' cars, or set the fines I set. Hence the whole crowd are facing charges related to sedition. Three French, three Germans, one young woman from Luxembourg and a Swiss-French and a Swiss-German. Plus the lawyer, of course.”
“What nationality is the lawyer?”
“French, but he's been a resident ten years. I don't suppose you want to plead for me to pardon them do you? As Arianne pointed out, there's not so many options if they do get convicted. And I don't want to stir up an international incident.”
“Why do you need me to beg you to be kind then?”
“I guess it comes down to public relations.”
“Whose idea was it to take that line?”
“I don't know. Oh, hold on, I'm getting called from Monaco. Can I call you back?”
“Of course. Remember, cheri, — peace as much as it depends on you.”
“Yes, exactly.”
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THE PALACE, MONACO, 8.10PM
“Hello, Claire,” Arianne said “thanks for answering. I have information for you.
“The French consul says when they saw the Basse-Monaco sign they thought it was part of a joke, didn't think to check, and they're really really sorry. Luxembourg consul says that the photographer is absolutely distraught, that it's her brother's car not hers, and there's no way she can pay even one day's fine. She was here to photograph people at the party, as part of some project she's working on, parked where she was told and thought the sign which said no overnight parking meant no charge overnight. She's from the Dutch-speaking part, apparently, and failed French at school. She also says that she didn't know what was going to be said, please please be merciful.”
“And the German-consul?” Svetlana asked.
“Doesn't think much of his compatriots attitude, but conveys their apologies, they claim they were just following the crowd, they weren't involved in planning the case, etcetera etcetera. He is also new to the job and wishes to know details of our laws on sedition.”
“What do you think?” Svetlana asked.
“I'm tempted to suggest you might want to haggle some kind of deal with the Luxembourg woman. I've seen her work before, it's good. She's one of those people who go somewhere exotic and tell a story mostly with pictures.”
“And you think that, say, she'd be willing to do something about life in Basse-Monaco, or something like that that'll attract the right sort of tourists?”
“Or about our beneficent ruler.”
“I think Hervé's fed up with reporters.”
“I meant ours in the exclusive sense. As in princess Claire.”
“Oh, hmmm. probably not. I'll think about it. She's a good but penniless artist?”
“I expect she's got money sometimes, but it's not exactly a regular income, if you're crafting your story for half a year.”
“I wonder what the current project is.”
“I have an invitation to interview her if I wish, complete with a truthsayer paid for by the Luxembourg embassy. I could ask.”
“I think that would be a good idea, if you can. Shouldn't you be in Berne, by the way?”
“Hervé was very persuasive,” Arianne said, blushing, “Well, he said 'can you come, please?'”
“Sorry to steal together-time from you then. Please check out her story, and then get her released on my authority assuming it's reasonable. If she's willing to sign an acknowledgement of the debt for the parking fine where she agrees that she'll either pay it off over the next decade or come to some kind of mutually agreeable terms on a project where she's basically working for me for almost no commission, then she can get the car released.”
“I can't just walk up to the guards and say, 'she's innocent, so on behalf of princess Claire, let her out', surely?”
“Of course you can. I had her arrested, therefore she's technically my prisoner. And you're the marquise of upper Basse-Monaco, don't let anyone insult you or intimidate you. You do have that ring my grandmother gave when you turned sixteen?”
“The big chunky brass one with the pretty picture on it? Yes.”
“The big chunky gold one with the seal of upper Basse-Monaco on it, you mean. Your ring of office.”
“Oh wow. Really?”
“Yes. Feel free to emboss some policeman's head with it if they won't listen to you. If in doubt, just talk to people like they've got no right to argue, and if they do, order someone else to arrest them for disrespect to a high noble and tell them you're going to appeal to the king to ensure your noble rights are respected. It's always worked for me.”
“You are a princess.”
“You might have noticed, Arianne; Monaco has one king and one princess, and we don't have any dukes. After duke and duchess comes marquis and marquise, and then counts, and so on, so you outrank the count of Monte Carlo and everyone he loves to talk about outranking. In other words, my humble friend, although you don't seem to realise it, for years you've been the third highest ranking noble in Monaco.”
“I thought....” she trailed off “You're sure I outrank the count?”
“History lesson: a marquis historically was a count of the march, that is to say a border guard, i.e. more trusted, more important. Monte Carlo has no land borders outside Monaco, you do, even if it's not very long, so my grandmother decided that you ought to be marquise, and if I ever need to grant another title then it'll be Count of Basse-Basse-Monaco, or maybe something non-hereditary like knight of the campsite. But in any case, you outrank them.”
“Thank you, Claire.”
“Oh, and if you feel that you're above such things as running errands for me, you can always delegate to René. Technically he's your vassal as well as mine, but getting him to acknowledge that might be tricky for family relationships.”
“Err, my parents too?”
“Technically, but I don't recommend it. Oh, can you tell them about me being compassionate on the Luxembourg woman? Hopefully no one will moan. They're still getting a sizeable sum.”
“They certainly are,” Arianne agreed.
“Oh, was there any more news on the Swiss pair?” Svetlana asked.
“No. I'll ask Ms Luxembourg.”
“That's not her name is it?” Svetlana asked, surprised.
“No, I just forgot it.”
“That's good. It'd be really embarrassing to have had a royal arrested for sedition.”