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Power & The Price
16. Luck in Exile

16. Luck in Exile

Freyza had kept the letter safely tucked away from prying eyes, including Iskander’s. It had arrived, he had revelled in its accommodating nature and secrecy, and had memorised each word, but thereafter he all but placed it in a safe. Though his initial letter had reeked of curiosity, curiosity partially of a kind that was unfitting an ambassador’s decorum with a head of state, the head of state herself had taken yet another step forward. No longer was their correspondence seeking an anchor with which to moor. Now, the next step out of diplomatic interest and into personal correspondence had been taken.

He was thrilled and horrified. There was nothing he desired and dreaded more, in particular after he had been informed that the Ilworthian retinue would return sooner than expected. The Ginefort caravan had gotten stuck still in the Baradrans and would not be on their way for a time, but other notable court officials that had been exiled had not been stopped. Suddenly, there was a great hurry. Neither Katherine nor Henri had released much of a declaration, while both were pressured by their blood to declare war on the impending regime of the Baradras Kingdom, might there be a regime impending. There were rumours that King Ferdinand, cousin both to Henri and Katherine, had been executed.

Only a person such as Freyza, who lived in Souchon Palace and had a certain talent for connecting dots, recognised that the former Queen Louise, now incorrectly naming herself Queen Mother, still had tremendous power in court at large. Declaring war was something Massouron and Ilworth could do independently. Katherine could not be on her way just to put a signature, unless the declaration was waiting for her in her Souchon chancellery. Moreover, the two were betrothed and since Louise’s plan of peacefully and cunningly transferring power had succeeded, she was likely looking to complete her plan of Henri’s dignified match. Not only did that secure a bond with the Courtenays, it was likely a ploy to discourage any hostile regime that may form in the Baradras Kingdom from attacking them.

There had not been a moment since Freyza had been appointed, that life was calm in Souchon Palace. There had been a succession crisis just before, with all of its fallout well within the reach of his diplomatic career, and then two more transfers of power, one voluntary and the other largely shrouded in mystery. To Freyza, who had been educated under the Sultan, they may all have been little kings and queens, more like dukes and duchesses compared to His Imperial Majesty, but the volatile nature with which they pushed and pulled their pieces of land, strategically granted them to one another, used their bodies and connections to enlarge or strengthen their territories, was largely unexpected.

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The first carriages of exiled Baradran nobility were coming in already. No sign of Ilworthian court had been given. There was a small hope that with the Baradran nobility that had arrived, there would be tales of the last days of Ginefort court as normal, and the ambassadors had all lived. He thought of the ambassador the Sbai Empire had sent them. They had never met, but having experience now teetering on the edge of chaos, he could begin to understand what it would be like for all of court to slip off that edge and fall head-first into it.

On the other hand, he felt sorry for the consequences of what had been not long ago a good plan. Katherine’s suitor, the first and only before her unfortunate stay in the convent, had been a De Serra, the exact people that were now likely in power in the Baradrans. Her daughter, though raised as a Courtenay princess, had a maimed reputation despite her modest age of five. That reflected badly off of Katherine. If not willing to forsake her own daughter, she would struggle with the loyalty of the Gineforts despite having Ginefort heritage herself.

His curiosity got the better of him and he headed down from his chancellery to the great hall, hoping to see some faces or at least hear rumours of the faces.

The hall was full of familiar and unfamiliar faces, and Freyza placed himself against the wall, in the periphery of the entrance. Aside from Theo, who he counted under the royal family due to his involvement with them, none of the Chavanets were present or visible.

He wondered why he had even come, thought back at the travesty that was his introduction to this God-forsaken court. Worst of all, his height made it so that anyone entering eventually had to lock eyes with him. He averted his gaze and sighed with great exasperation.

The faces all belonged to strangers. Noble strangers, common strangers, strangers in heavy cloaks and strangers carrying large chests. Some of the women were veiled like the Sbaian women were, after a few years of Sbaian purchase on the southern coast of the Baradras Kingdom. He watched them go by, offered watery grins. That, until one of the faces appeared awfully familiar to him.

He was looking a bit worse for wear, carrying his own trunk, and aside from the wisp of it on his chin, he had never seen his auburn hair, but it was unmistakable nonetheless, especially walking next to his wife.

Freyza was at a loss for words, but before long, he had been spotted as well. ‘Master Freyza!’ he hollered. It was the sword of the treasury, Bayezid of Amouas.

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Freyza had made his former colleague tea in his chancellery, and he warmed himself with the hot surface of the cup that held it. It was quiet but the crackling of the torches, there was no fanfare for the incoming nobles. After all, it was a solemn affair.

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‘I’m afraid I was at the wrong place,’ Bayezid offered when Freyza had inquired as to the circumstances that had led to this. ‘Certainly the wrong time, but I’d argue this time is wrong for us all. No?’

Freyza put his tea down briefly. ‘No,’ he aped without a hint of Bayezid’s questioning tone. ‘I am of the opinion that it will all land paws-down and head-up. But I wonder, Bayezid… you were at Dos Lunas Castle?’

He shook his head. ‘Not even — I was travelling to transport some Sbaian gold to Dos Lunas and I thought I would stop by my parents-in-law. Falcona thought she would come for her brother’s wedding which was impending. It was there where we received word of the coup. We decided we’d not wait it out, and rather pack our bags. Back to the Sbai Empire was not an option, they had taken the southern ports by that time.’

‘They?’ Freyza wondered.

‘Hm. From what I know, it’s the De Serra brothers,’ Bayezid said. ‘But I know your new alliance would warrant questioning on that front.’

‘New alliance, Bayezid?’ he asked.

Bayezid scoffed with irritation. ‘Sultan Selim was excited to hear you got your foot in the door with Queen Katherine. Queen Katherine of De Serra courtship infamy?’

‘Had your gold been Ilworth-bound, you’d be cold instead of exiled,’ Freyza said. ‘To be fair.’

Bayezid looked him up and down. ‘I suppose that makes me more grateful for being in exile.’

Freyza nodded. ‘I know my audience,’ he said. ‘To anyone else I would’ve said, you could have died out there.’

There was a sudden smile on Bayezid’s face. The light of Massouron, more scattered and clouded than it was in the Sbai Empire, made him look almost sickly. The sheer difference in his appearance brought Freyza to a realisation. ‘You’re not staying in Massouron, are you?’ he asked.

‘Why not?’ he asked. ‘Likely I won’t stay in the palace, no, but where’s there to go?’

Freyza grimaced. ‘Home?’ he asked.

Bayezid clicked his tongue. ‘Right now, nobody will be going home. Perhaps not in a long time. Besides, who have you got at the embassy who knows business like I do?’

His desperation made Freyza question his old friend. ‘You were demoted?’ he guessed.

Bayezid tried to smile. ‘Kicked out, actually,’ he answered shyly. ‘I suppose I underestimated your efficacy. I thought it’d be easy, considering you only ever did it on the side.’

There was some sick pleasure in hearing that. Freyza sat up a little straighter and sipped his tea again. ‘We cannot all be talented merchants and swords of the treasury, Bayezid. So this casual get-together is your application to work for me, then?’

‘Just resume the dynamic of yore,’ Bayezid clarified. ‘You lead in all of your aged wisdom. I’ll be around to screw it up so you do not grow bored. There’s loads of things I can do here.’

‘If you make trouble, I will ask you to leave,’ Freyza said immediately. ‘Consider this your chance to do better. When we initially hired you, you were but a youngster. Now you’ve come of age and need to start bringing return on our investment in you. I’m not saying that to be rude, but I struggle to see what valuable skills you would bring to the embassy.’

Bayezid demonstratively sat back. He was pale and sallow, with auburn hair and black eyes, a wisp of a beard, but dark and full brows. ‘You got your foot in the door with Queen Katherine. I’ll get my foot in the door with King Henri.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘We’re going to sluice our resources out of Ilworth where we can.’

‘Would it hurt to compare prices?’ Bayezid asked.

‘If she hears of it, yes,’ Freyza said. ‘Given they share a bed, I reckon she will hear of it. And when she hears of it, I’ll hear of it during the next negotiation, and you and Falcona will be thrown out of this palace by my command. Yes?’

Bayezid looked intently to follow Freyza’s train of thought. He blinked in disorientation and clicked his tongue. ‘How would you learn about it from Queen Katherine? Is there some reason why I’m not allowed to compare these prices?’

‘Well, it wouldn’t be fair,’ Freyza said. ‘Given the Queen and I have correspondence. Let us see where that brings us first, and we’ll see about the prices down the line. It is not of the utmost importance to me now, whereas surpassing previous relationships with heads of state here is.’

When Bayezid began to smirk, and eventually to cackle, Freyza also could not keep his face straight. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘I’m afraid to tell you, but I think the Queen of Ilworth has found a way to take advantage of you for good metal prices,’ he said.

‘I wonder what makes you say that,’ Freyza said after taking the last sip that the cup still held. ‘Why don’t you think we, as the Sbaian embassy, are taking advantage of Queen Katherine’s ear, against the small price of a slightly less advantageous tin prince? These are all little kings and little queens, but they are vicious. And moreover, if I can convince Her Majesty to take a short trip to Sbaian land, I think that not only will she be handsomely paid by the sultan and remembered in song forever, I think it’ll reflect well on us. On me. Well, it’s us now, I suppose.’

‘Vicious?’ Bayezid asked.

‘M-hm,’ he replied. ‘At King Henri’s coronation, they nearly scalped a lass.’

‘So why wouldn’t she be taking advantage of you?’ Bayezid asked forth. ‘If they’re willing to go so far for their little treasuries and little plots of land.’

‘There’s nothing for her to take advantage of, frankly,’ he said. ‘I haven’t shared my desire to bring her to the Sbai Empire to enchant the sultan. I think she doesn’t know what a good price is for tin, so she’s happy when her treasurer is. We’re good acquaintances, but given her famed charisma and beauty, I don’t think she considers an acquaintance enough to make great steps for.’

‘Have you told her about her cameo’s perpetual presence in your last job?’

Freyza shrugged. ‘Why would I? Do you tell everyone you meet that the Sultan left you to rot in the streets because you could not fill my shoes? Some things are better left unsaid, or when absolutely necessary, insinuated and surrounded by grandiose lies.’

A wicked smile crept onto Bayezid’s face. ‘I don’t know,’ he began. ‘From the way you talk of her, and write of her, it seems that there is plenty she has that you would pay a high price for. Not in assets or glory, but… I reckon beneath your ever-so-diplomatic veneer, there might actually be a person with human wishes and needs.’

‘Nonsense, Bayezid,’ he said and scoffed.

‘Fine, then,’ Bayezid said. ‘I suppose in order to prove my loyalty to you, I shall have to offer myself to be taken advantage of by the Queen of Ilworth. Someone’s got to do it.’

‘Well, if I’ve learned anything from every makeshift oracle in this damned place, and you’ll learn each maid and lady-in-waiting pretends to be an oracle when it comes to royal matters, it appears Her Majesty has sufficiently disappointing taste in men for her to consider you.’