Chapter 7

King Tamir had been relaxing on his vacation, or 'diplomatic trips' as he got to call them, when a servant informed him that one of his sons was on the phone. He didn't know exactly who or what to expect when he answered it, but it certainly wasn't an angry Prince Melchiorre.

"Melchiorre," sang the king. "This is a rare treat! Therefore I'm going to assume something really great has happened or gone horribly wrong."

"Father, I am furious with you!"

Tamir nodded in agreement and shrugged that it couldn't be helped. Given his position, there were rarely days when someone wasn't mad at him. He was slightly surprised that it was his son this time and not a cabinet member.

"Go on."

"Choosing some unknown woman to decide the future of our country? It's ludicrous!"

Melchiorre paced his apartment as he ranted. He passed the phone back and forth to himself as he switched hands to gesture wildly.

"Have you gone mad!? That would have been bad enough on its own without things needing to get worse, but they have! Balam has begun spreading word that she carries your direct approval to the succession. I fear the council will break into warring factions and sooner rather than later, they'll be gunning for her."

Tamir frowned as he listened intently. Melchiorre was flippant but he wasn't dumb. However his fault was that he always saw the worst possible outcome in every situation and so, he balanced this news with reserve and skepticism.

"And what would you have me do," he asked solemnly.

"Face your responsibility and choose your successor yourself! Everyone had already accepted Lambert as heir! And they will again if you say so!"

"Face responsibility?" He chuckled with a soft smile. "Those are strange words to come from a truant prince, don't you think?"

"Father..." Melchiorre gritted his teeth as old memories and the pain that accompanied them came to his mind. "Now is not the time to rehash old arguments. I've already said my piece on the matter."

"And your word stands," he assured him. "But so do mine."

The king next spoke with a stone resolution that gave him his regal air.

"Alexandra will determine the succession. If the court wishes to tear themselves apart over it, let them. And if you want Lambert to take the throne, then appeal to her on his behalf... He could probably use the help," he added thoughtfully.

Melchiorre sighed in defeat but was no less annoyed. There really was no changing his father's mind on this.

"And what of her safety," he pleaded.

"It'll be taken care of." Tamir waved off his concern and smiled gingerly as he tried to bait his eldest son, "but if you think you could do a better job, you're free to step up to the plate."

"I will not," he answered, "but I do hope you know what you're doing."

"Don't I always? Don't answer that. I'll be home soon. Take care of your brothers until then."

"Yes, father. Be safe."

Tamir hung up the phone only for it to ring again while still in his hands. He answered it while doing the best he could to not sound annoyed.

"Your majesty, I'm calling to report-" Ivan began but the king eagerly cut him off.

"Wait, wait! Let me guess. Political in-fighting has put my future wife in danger."

Ivan sat silent in momentary confusing before rolling his eyes. He was almost tempted to irritantly ask just who was he calling his 'future wife'.

"That's correct, your majesty. How did you know?"

"I have a sixth sense," he said with a confident smile.

"Prince Melchiorre told you," said Ivan after a quick deduction.

Of course his majesty would keep abreast of anything happening at the palace. The tricky part was guessing just who, besides himself, would bother to keep him informed. Not just anyone would speak so boldly to the king and tell him outright that the court was in upheaval.

"Maybe... Alright, he did," he admitted reluctantly. "So what's this about an attempt being made on her life? I thought I charged you with protecting her?"

Ivan told him what happened during Alex's horse riding lessons. He took the blame without hesitation, even going so far as to add that Nagit had clearly pointed out his fault with ease.

"Master Nagit said he was blinded by a light shortly before the horse went wild, something like the reflection from a mirror," said Ivan. "I took a brief initial inspection of the horse itself and found nothing. However, one of the stable hands later reported a welt appearing on the horse's hindquarters. Something struck it from a distance. Master Nagit wasted no time in suspecting foul-play and I would have to agree with him."

While it wasn't as bad as Melchiorre would have him believe, Tamir knew that escalation was always a possibility and it was that which he had to prevent.

"As for Minister Balam," Ivan continued, "he seems to have taken a keen interest in the succession. He would have made Miss Alexandra a target for the entire court, were it not for Melchiorre's interruption. Although I fear it may just be a formality at this point."

"You're probably right," he agreed.

Tamir sat back and thought more on the issue. He had intended for Alex to crown one of his sons as king based on their own merits. If word of this got out, then she would have to deal not only with his sons, but with lobbyists as well. They would try to bribe her to choose a prince they favored over the others, for whatever reasons. This would muddle his entire plan, but it would also make things more interesting.

"Let them spread word behind closed doors than," he decided. "We'll let everything play out as if nothing were amiss. Spread a few more rumors of our own if you have to, to quicken the pace, but don't stop them from taking the bait."

"But your majesty, about Miss Alexandra," Ivan asked with rising doubt. "A runaway horse is one thing, and quite dangerous enough, but what would you have me do should they try again using other, more drastic, methods? It's still early and already I fear letting her out of my sight."

"Oh? Is that so?" He kicked up his feet and lay back with a smirk. Even if Ivan couldn't see it, it was there in his voice.

"And why is that? Afraid she'll run into something even you can't handle or is it something else? You wouldn't happen to be growing a soft spot for our guest, now would you?"

"Of course not, your majesty!" He staunchly refuted the claim immediately. "It's as you said before. I worry she'll happen upon some trouble that's beyond even my skills of resolution. I wouldn't put it past her, if I may speak frankly."

"She's certainly found a way under your skin," Tamir chuckled. "See to it that that's as far as she gets, Ivan. I intend to make that girl a bride one way or another. I'll do what I can to lighten your burden as far as providing protection goes."

"Yes, your majesty. Thank you."

With two panicked calls in such a short amount of time, Tamir finally considered it time to let another player in on his game. He had been reluctant to pull out such a big gun from the start but if even Ivan was overwhelmed, then he had to swallow his pride and make the better decision.

Jahara was his first-born child and eldest daughter. She was also the director of the National Security Council. Her job was to investigate all potential threats to the crown and the country. Every time someone, no matter whether it was a common guest or foreign dignitary, got within even spitting distance of the royal family, they were already in the scope of gun belonging to one of her soldiers hidden nearby. The severity of the job had made her a humorless woman. When he laid his plan out to her, she wasted no time in tearing him apart over how he chose amusement over safety.

"Let me get this straight. You suspect that someone or a group of some ones are plotting against your life?"

"Well not against my life," he shrugged, "but sure, let's say that."

"So you hire a decoy and create this elaborate story to deflect attention away from you," she continued with her tone getting even angrier.

"She's not getting paid so I wouldn't call it hiring either, but yes."

"But you didn't even tell the decoy that they are a decoy or tell anyone of your stupid plan! You instead decide to just take a holiday so you can sit back and watch what happens?!"

"... Okay, first of all," he said as he jumped to the defense of his ego, "you and everyone else are just refusing to see how brilliant my plan is. If you really think about it, it's ingenious."

"No, father, it's stupid," she said with added emphasis. "And I'm not surprised I'm not the first person to tell you this."

"Actually, you are…"

"You gave a complete stranger the right of succession in the hopes that the traitors would slip up and reveal themselves in the chaos. Did you ever stop to think that they would possibly force her to hand it over under torture, or just kill her and be done with the ordeal altogether?"

"I... did not," he admitted. "But that's why I have you. I want, and now need, your help. I thought you'd be happy about this! Hooray, espionage! It's right up your alley."

"I knew you had to be up to something but I never would've guessed this."

She rolled her eyes and let an irritated sigh. She freely expressed her annoyances no matter who caused them. In her position, she had no favor to win nor anyone's wrath to fear.

"I haven't heard you suggest a better plan," he said.

"My plan is the same as always. In this case, it also would've been a lot more effective and involved less harm to innocent bystanders. Take the suspect out to a secluded building in the desert and beat them until they confess."

"I'm not absolutely certain but I'm going to say I'm pretty sure there are laws against that," he objected. "And not just our laws, I mean international laws."

"Fine." She sighed as she had come near to the end of her rope. "I'll play along. I'll spare a few more bodies to keep your guest safe but I insist on being allowed to carry out my own investigation as well, a proper investigation."

"As long as no one is bound and gagged," he said firmly. "No disappearances in the middle of the night. I want this handled without violence if at all possible."

"I understand," she agreed. "Will you need anything else, your majesty?"

"Well..." He thought it over carefully before voicing his concern out loud.

"As a small favor," he said in a low voice, "keep an eye on Ivan, would you? I don't want him getting distracted."