Being X, whatever I can say about him, does seem to have a few rules at least. He pits me against dangerous enemies, but he leaves me with my power intact to fight them. He did tell me I’d have to fight the entire world to survive, but he also gave me the tools to do it. He sabotages my efforts, I’m sure, at living a peaceful life, but I also don’t exist under just ‘constant’ attack. So he might not be fair, and a total bastard.

But he does have rules, and by understanding those rules, I’m able to do a better job of working within them to secure myself. The attempt on my life wasn’t serious, at least not where he was concerned. More like a warning. I couldn’t help but wonder why he really cared so much about ‘my’ beliefs that he’d alter the fate of a world, but that didn’t matter nearly as much as the fact that he was.

I’d been put on notice. So now? Now I had to prepare.

We spent the entire day sorting through records of proposals that both succeeded and failed.

We subdivided them multiple different ways so that I could see what patterns emerged out of the chaos.

It wasn’t until we’d dismissed the other servants that I looked toward Visha and waited.

This was the good part about having someone know exactly what you need. You don’t even need to tell them. The value of unspoken communication is beyond measurement.

“Ma’am, out of the bills proposed to Parliament in the last seventy years, ninety-six percent of those proposed by the late Queen passed. The four percent that failed failed because of coalitions in the House of Lords and the House of Populii.” She switched to the next page of her notepad, cleared her throat and said, “Of the measures proposed in either the House of Lords or the House of Populii, those endorsed by the crown passed muster eighty-seven percent of the time. And when cross referencing to publications, that percentage is matched by proportional news coverage of the crown’s support.” Visha’s recitation of the data was exactly what I needed.

“They do love their monarchy.” I muttered and went to sit down. The cushion sank under even my light weight, the late Queen certainly seemed to like soft things. I sank into virtually everything I sat or laid on. I think she’d have turned the floors into mattresses if it were feasible.

“So the power of their monarchy is the respect of the office. That’s good to know. Very good. Visha, bring in whatever legal staff is employed for legislation drafting and review, and draw up the following items.” I waited while she switched to a blank page and then said…

“The crown proposes a twenty percent increase in spending on education, public hospitals, and on the care of wounded veterans. Further, due to the severe shortage of doctors and nurses at home, the crown proposes a budgetary allotment that will fully fund the education of doctors and nurses who agree to spend five years post graduation working in public hospitals. In addition, I also want to propose a treaty with the Empire that will curb military spending and placement on our respective borders as part of our settlement. This should also extend to any shared border colonies.”

“I can have that done by tomorrow, ma’am, should I have it sent directly to the House of Lords and the House of Populii, or do you want me to send it to one of them first?” Visha asked, and her belly rumbled audibly.

She blushed a little, she was always funny about that, I could practically set my watch by her stomach, when it was time to eat, she’d let everybody around her know it.

This time though, mine answered. I ignored it, and unlike her, I did not blush. “Oh you misunderstand me. Don’t send it to them. Send a copy to the Prime Minister of course. But then ‘leak’ the proposals to the press. Especially the radio programs. Oh, and arrange for a car for me to visit the veterans hospitals.”

“Ma’am, can I ask… why?” Visha asked, and that was one other thing I liked about her. Well, maybe not ‘her’ specifically, but how I got to enjoy myself a little.

“Because I’ve already got enemies here in every corner. If I give them time to react, I’ve lost the initiative. I want the public to be pleased first, that way the ones trying to deny medicine to veterans and the poor will be the villains, not me.” I answered, of course there was more to it. If war broke out with the Empire again, there was a good chance I’d be caught between a rock and a hard place. Either the Empire would think I was a traitor and try to have me assassinated, or the Commonwealth would think I was a traitor and have me assassinated. To keep the populist rabble rousers at bay, I needed to steal their audience.

I needed to out Solon, Solon. I needed to out Diogenes, Diogenes. I needed to out Alcibiades, Alcibiades. And I wasn’t going to be doing that by playing fair.

What I wasn’t really expecting was for the Prime Minister to show up at my home just as Visha was leaving to carry out my orders.

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“My Queen.” He said when I met him in my parlor. He bowed deeply and I held out my hand. He kissed the ring on my finger and then when I gestured to the small seat opposite me, he joined me at the table. These were ‘ladies’ chairs, meant for smaller women alone and not meant for bigger men. It creaked as he seated himself, but held up in spite of his weight, however he did look rather absurd.

Myself, I liked these chairs because they were the only things I didn’t look ridiculous sitting in. ‘I can’t wait to get taller. I’m tired of being so damn short.’ I thought while he made polite small talk for a few minutes as a servant brought in tea.

For him.

For me?

I had coffee.

He looked with shock at the dark liquid in my teacup. “My Queen, you prefer coffee? You’re in Albion now, surely you know that ‘tea’ is our drink of choice?”

“Well even a wise people can make bad choices, can’t they, Prime Minister?” I was trying to be charming right then, so I smiled a little at him while I sipped from my cup.

“I suppose, and that’s why I hope Your Majesty will come around to our way of thinking when it comes to something so important. Tea is the true drink of the noble.” David retorted, wiggling his mustache just a little to show he wasn’t being too serious.

“I’ve heard that, but then, the royal family of the Empire drinks coffee, in fact they, perhaps I should say ‘we’ since we’re related, I suppose, even has a special blend reserved just for their use. I’ll need to have some sent here, perhaps build it into our peace treaty. Then I’ll introduce you to it, I’m sure you’ll change your mind about it then. After all, judgment without experience is unwise, wouldn’t you say?” I asked.

Sometimes my mask of being a little girl slipped a little, the adults around me assumed I was a prodigy of some sort, or a monster, or both. However, regardless of the conclusion, occasionally it was evident that I knew more than a young girl had any business knowing. Some, like Visha, were blind to that. But David Lloyd George was nobody’s fool.

“You’re shockingly right, Your Majesty.” He said, and it was clear that he was seeing me more and more as just a ‘short adult’ than as what I appeared to be. Perhaps that is why when he straightened up, he focused on the unspoken topic and addressed me more directly.

“Majesty, I have a copy of the peace treaty the House of Lords has hammered out, and an advance copy of the one being worked on by the House of Populii.” He said and then drew two papers from the bag at his side, he extended them to me and watched with his head cocked while I read them.

I somehow doubt he’d have handed both of these over directly if he hadn’t seemed to undergo a shift in his thinking. It was better this way, it’s tiresome being seen as just a little girl all the time.

The House of Lords proposal was fairly modest. Mutual return of prisoners, a modest war indemnity by the Empire, return of confiscated equipment, and a withdrawal from Republic territory back to prewar borders. It wasn’t an acknowledgement of the fact that they’d been beaten, and there was a lot of face saving. But it also offered some favorable trade terms and made no mention of returning any of the Republic’s colonies overseas that the Republic would no doubt have to concede.

By contrast, the House of Populii treaty was frankly draconian, as if Berun itself were occupied and the empire destroyed. Not just the return of the Republic’s colonies and territory, but a massive war indemnity to the Republic and a similar one to the Commonwealth, plus handing over ‘The war criminals responsible for the destruction of Aren city, the criminal responsible for the sinking of Commonwealth ships* before the war erupted, and the surrendering of the technology used for high altitude flight and long range mage deployment.

I held up the one put together by the House of Commons. “The Empire will never accept this.” I slapped it down on the table. “Absolutely not.”

The silence hung between us. “And that’s the point, isn’t it? To force the Empire to reject it so they can call them warmongers, to force me to refuse to send it, so that I’ll be labeled an agent of the Empire. What was it Churbull called me? A viper at the breast?” I asked rhetorically.

“Thankfully the committee hasn’t finished, so you have time to react. But it will take something significant to head them off.” David was continuing to impress me. I had no idea how he’d gotten an advance copy, but I hadn’t even drafted my own version yet, so much to do… if I were headed off, even if it were by the House of Lords, I’d look like a puppet disconnected from the general public.

“You’re right.” I had to acknowledge that much. “So I’ll do the next best thing. My… family, such as they were, died on the way back from the Empire to sign an armistice. So I’ll invite the Kaiser himself, Emperor of all the Empire, to come to Birmingham in person to negotiate peace with me personally. They were his family too, and I already undertook the journey here myself… with the tensions with the Russy Federation growing, he’ll want to settle things here quickly. A few hours flight and one day’s negotiation might just be worth it.”

The Prime Minister’s jaw dropped. “You… you want to invite the Kaiser himself to Birmingham to negotiate peace?”

“Yes.” I replied, deadpan.

“You’re mad.” He gasped and clenched his hands into tight fists while he sought to control himself.

“Perhaps.” I answered. “But I know my homeland. It’s the kind of big, bold gesture that appeals to us in uncertain times.”

“I’ll have a telegram sent directly to his office of foreign affairs within the hour. Could I borrow your telephone?” He asked and rose to his feet.

“Please do.” I answered, and rang the bell to call for a servant. My intentions might have been partially foiled before I could carry them out… but not completely, and this would have the disbelieving eyes of half the world, centered on me, and paralyzed, unable to act until they know what to even react to.