Visha stood in the banquet hall of the palace and continued reciting information off of the paper while servants rushed to and fro, their feet were noisy and chaotic as they prepared everything the day before the feast. Not for the first time, she praised her creator for giving her the experience of working under the Major. ‘Without all that experience, I wouldn’t be here now.’
There were a lot of things she meant by that, not just ‘serving a Queen’ in comfort of the sort she’d only ever read about in storybooks. But also able to administer a full staff of people, conduct research on a thousand different topics, organize material, and all while capable of defending herself from, as she often thought, ‘Damn near anything.’
The only thing Visha feared at all anymore, was the very woman she now worked for. ‘She’s just a young girl, she can even sound and look cute when she wants to, but those devilish eyes, the ruthless, cruel way she looks at people who don’t seem to be useful…’
Despite being a combat veteran that had waged many a fight thousands of meters in the sky, she still felt herself to be cowardly.
And worse than that?
‘Guilt… she’s given me everything, pushed us to our limits, even protected us with her own body sometimes… we’re the only mage battalion to have not suffered a single death, despite all our dangers… and yet I still look at her like a monster.’ That knowledge, that guilt, always threatened to devour the former officer turned Lady-in-Waiting.
To keep it at bay, she redoubled her working pace, spending endless hours striving to achieve perfection. As she’d once strained on the battlefield saying, ‘let me help my countrymen’ she now pushed herself to work even without sleep to write the bones of a proposal that the Major, ‘No, the Queen.’ Visha reminded herself, would find acceptable.
To that end, she considered all the kind things the one time leader had supported. ‘She had me promoted because I showed potential, she hates depriving people of free will, and gave me the choice to go higher if I wanted to. She also pushed me really, really hard… so I’m sure she wants to push for a lot of education opportunities, and she’ll want a lot of stuff to be merit based. That means she’ll want exams for government offices just like the Empire has, and…’
On and on down the list she went, working on that in her notes while also occasionally looking up to mind the staff that was preparing everything.
“My Lady, if I may, the menu for tomorrow, should it be all cuisine of Albion, or would the Queen like dishes from the Empire as well?” A pudgy faced servant asked, with his nose upturned a little, he seemed at the very least ‘snooty’.
But even so, Visha answered seriously, “She is still a young girl, so have some on standby in case she wants some, even if it’s just enough for her alone. But prepare a serving of whatever is best by Commonwealth standards. Oh and remember, she likes coffee, so have some of that prepared for her.”
“But coffee is… uncouth.” The snotty servant replied.
“It’s almost the only thing she drinks, she’s too young for beer or wine or anything so…?” Visha let the statement hang, and the pudgy servant’s face fell.
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“I shall ensure a pot is prepared and ready for her.”
“Make it two.” Visha cautioned him and did not watch as he departed with grumbling that she had to hope Tanya did not overhear. It would be a long day, and a long night, for herself, but that didn’t compare to even a short day for someone who got on the Queen’s bad side.
‘I should maybe recommend some new staff… a chef more to her liking…’ Visha scribbled down a note, and got back to work.
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Winston stood in front of a mob, “Peace with the Empire… any peace with the Empire that does not end in our victory, is as good as a defeat!” He shouted and shook his fist, “Did we not spend our people’s blood already?! Will we make their sacrifice a vain one, and leave an intact empire to threaten us once again after they consolidate power over their conquered territory?! Will they not be harder to defeat when they are stronger on every front?!”
There were a lot of nods among the crowd as well as a rumbling of agreement. “Why, what of the very proof that the Hindenburg was sabotaged! Even before his discharge, Captain Pruss suggested it might have been! He was there! Were you?! Were any of you?! No! The Empire kills our monarchy, installs a replacement that will make a bad peace, worse than war, and then we are crippled! We’ll lose the jewel of the Commonwealth, India, then all our other colonies! What will we be without that, but another fallen empire, living in the shadow of a stronger one?!” Winston demanded, and paused, allowing the crowd to absorb his words and get angry.
“The Kaiser thinks us weak and flaccid, that a few ounces of Albion blood in the air will cause us to tuck tail and run! But I tell him now that we are angry! Furious! Fighting mad! We can’t let them do this to us!” He shouted to the mob, “Are you with me?!”
“Arahh!” The crowd shouted, and in their midst a few solid clubs went up. The weapons were a first, but it was exactly what he was hoping to see. “Will you let our blood be spilled in vain?!”
“No!”
“Will you accept a peace that has our Empire kissing the ring of the Kaiser?!”
“No!”
“Will you accept some whore-get thrust upon our Empire’s throne?! Besmirching our traditions! Disregarding our wellbeing?!” Winston demanded while he readied another rhetorical question to follow the noise of their acclaim.
“Oh blow it out your fat ass!” Winston was briefly shocked, indeed so was the rest of the mob.
“I was’ere! At the palace! Got a personal invite’n all! Saw for my own eyes sake what happened! How she picked up a rifle an fought for us! An then went and come to a poor hospital, we could all ‘ear her shout’n about the piss poor care we got! Moved us all to the Hospital for them lordly types! Thas’a Queen, that is!” He snapped.
Winston got a better look at the man then, workman’s clothes, an ugly bandage across his face, and he had an Irish accent blended with an Albinian one, someone who’d been in both places and settled in Birmingham for work. ‘One of the ones I got to gather there…’
“See! Even now she sends spies out to confuse you! To tell you to be good little sheep for her to shear! To hell with that! What will you do about lies from foreign agents?!” Winston shouted, and one of the clubs came down into the back of the speaker’s head, he crumpled in their midst, the gap closed up, and a few people close to where he fell ‘got a little taller’ and now looked over the heads of the ones in front of them.
“Right! God save Albion! God save the Commonwealth!” Winston shouted, and when the crowd echoed it back at him, he smiled, just a little bit.