Slayers REVOLT: The Calm Before
By Elderdrake
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CHAPTER THREE
First Rumblings
Three week's foot travel to the northwest of where Lina, Gourry and Zel were calling it a night, things were also winding down in the Royal capital of Saillune. The Sun had set two hours earlier already, which meant it was almost midnight, so far north and this close to the Year's Long Day. Not that anyone had noticed sundown, really; it was overcast, gloomy and drizzling in the White Magic City as much as anywhere else. Despite the late hour, Princess Amelia wil Tesla de Seyruun, Sorceress, Foreign Minister, sometime Adventuress, soon to be Proclaimed Heiress, and the undisputed sweetheart of her nation was still at work in her office. The attentive scribe at her side, her personal secretary, still held several documents awaiting her examination and signature.
With no small frustration, she speared her quill into the inkpot, stretched and yawned. She got up to walk to the window, massaging the small of her back. The lighted windows of the Palace winked at her through the rain, backlit by the vast, misty-dim glow of Saillune City beyond. The sight of all the prosperity – in no small part her responsibility to safeguard - rarely failed to inspire her to plow on, no matter the hour. Not tonight, though, and she was feeling more than usually envious of Miss Lina's comparatively carefree existence of wandering the countryside and doing little more than satisfying her tummy, whims, and hobbies. What was she doing now, Amelia wondered? Probably sleeping off a bulging stomach. She sighed.
"Mister Frederick, it's awfully late is there really anything in that pile you're still holding that absolutely can't wait until morning?"
Frederick quickly leafed through his handful. "Hummm actually, Highness, I don't think so No, wait: there's a late request from the Elmikian Embassy that should probably be seen to right away. We can return it with the first morning dispatches."
Amelia yawned again "What IS it with the Elmikian Embassy these days? They keep sending urgent documents almost too late, and expect them back right away!" She had walked back to lean on the desk as she said this, and Frederick handed her the document. "Rrrgh! It's like they're being deliberately annoying!" She bent to look it over.
Frederick saw her eyes widen a little. "What is it, Princess?"
"Oh dear! It seems old Count Regin is retiring as their Ambassador. And he was the only nice, endearing person on their whole staff!"
"Endearing, Princess? If I may inquire?"
Amelia smiled at him. "Oh well Mister Frederick, it's just that Count Regin used to dandle me on his knee and bring Elmikian chocolates for Gracia and I when we were little. He's been ambassador to Saillune for longer than I've been alive. It just seems like the passing of an era. I'll miss him, even though we've kind of been adversaries for the last couple of years" She sighed and continued to scan the document. The seals at the bottom caught her eye. Several of the usual State seals were missing. Her eyes immediately moved to the top of the page and saw it was unmarked letterhead.
"Hmmm! That's odd. This is a personal dispatch, not a formal notice He's requesting a private audience as soon as it could be scheduled."
Frederick was thoughtful. "Hmmm, irregular, but not unexpected if he's retiring and was once as affectionate towards you as you say"
Amelia interrupted his musing. Her Secretary was in the habit of pondering forever on the endless ramifications of even the smallest political developments unless she brought him up short. "Is there a formal notice of his retirement, Mister Frederick?"
Frederick briefly flipped through the other pages that had been meant for tonight's business. "Not here" He immediately set to shuffling through the documents that had been set aside for the next day. After considerable rustling and paging, he finally pulled out a proper Elmikian letterhead that was positively encrusted with seals. "Here it is!" He frowned, perplexed "But why an urgent personal letter when the State notice is just normal? That's very irregular."
Amelia was nibbling a thumbnail. "I don't know, but I'm definitely curious." She gazed at the ceiling for a moment, thoughtful. Coming to a decision, she moved smartly into her chair.
"Mister Frederick, can we bump anyone off the appointment list tomorrow morning?" She began scribbling a letter on blank letterhead.
"Princess? Is it wise to risk the insult to someone? And that will certainly assure any unscheduled private audience will be noticed by everyone attending morning court."
Amelia paused, then sagged a little "Phoo. You're right, I wasn't thinking."
The Princess frowned in hard thought for a moment, chin clasped, tapping at her cheek with the quill pen. Frederick was silent, but his eyes registered approval. Princess Amelia was coming along fast in her role as Foreign Minister. His own years of experience as Secretary to Prince Philionel had already suggested a solution, but he waited to see what the Princess would think up.
At first Frederick had been aghast that Philionel had assigned such an important job to his impetuous – and still young – daughter when she had returned from several months away on one of her strange journeys. But, the Prince had assured him she had been learning at his side since she was eleven, and had seen more of the world – including some of the Outside world – than just about anyone else on the continent. Feeling terribly put upon, as it originally seemed to him he was being demoted from Foreign Secretary to Royal Babysitter, he had nonetheless accepted his fate – no one in the palace, himself included, could refuse Prince Philionel and ever feel good about it.
Much to his surprise, she had thrown herself whole-heartedly into the work, always accepting fair criticism, always doing her absolute best, never flinching from long hours, tough decisions or hard duties. Though she seemed immature at times, Frederick had discovered there was deeper maturity, rooted in her sense of duty and her oft-confused but always sincere sense of justice. He was pretty sure some of the things she had seen on her trips with that berserk Sorceress, Lina Inverse, had also made parts of the Princess a lot older than her years. He had no idea what exactly she had gone through, but there were rumours and he had his suspicions. The world had been changing a lot lately, and it seemed Amelia might have been involved up to her neck in it all
Whatever might be the case, Amelia had turned out to be a natural diplomat, using her disarming cuteness or her penchant for righteous oratory as required. That last sometimes gave Frederick worries, but Princess Amelia, thankfully, had yet to inappropriately threaten smashing even the most obnoxious envoys with the "Hammer of Justice". She had done it a couple of appropriate times, though.
Amelia at last interrupted his musing by crumpling the letter she had started and pulling out a new sheet, this one with the gilt Saillune letterhead used for State documents.
"How about this, then? I'll write a proper formal letter of regret at his retirement and a respectful commendation of his long tenure, praiseworthy skill, and forthright manner. Then, at the end, a request that, his duties permitting, he join me for a small private tea sometime in the next couple of days. I'll imply that he'd be satisfying the whim of a girl he used to bounce on his knee and who holds some affection for him, nothing more." She grimaced a little at even this small deceit. She had only ever lied once in her life, and that to spare a dear friend's heart when she was dying – fortunately, dying only temporarily.
Frederick smiled reassuringly. "Excellent, Princess. We may be reading way too much into this, but it can't hurt to be careful. And you do hold some affection for him, do you not?" At her nod, he continued "Then it's hardly dishonest to let them think so."
Amelia stretched and yawned again "Hwaahuuahhh then let's get this letter written and sealed so I can go to bed." She gave Frederick a bright smile, and set to with quill.
Frederick stifled a yawn of his own, then shuffled around collecting the various signets and waxes for the official seals. Setting these down, he reached across the desk to turn up the wick on the oil lamp that had faded considerably during their discussion. Amelia, gazing off into space, lost in the composition of her letter, never noticed. A pleased smile ghosting across his face at the ongoing progress in the training of Saillune's future Queen Regnant, Frederick unwrapped a slug of blue wax and began heating it over a candle.
* * * * * * * *
Half an hour later Amelia was walking towards the Royal apartments in the company of two guards. She had to stop every few yards it seemed, to yawn again. She sighed a little and muttered to herself "Everyone tells me I'm working too hard, and I'm starting to feel what they mean."
Upon her recuperation from the DarkStar quest, Prince Philionel had taken her aside and told her the time had come for her to start serious training as his eventual successor. Always anxious to show Daddy her best, Amelia had thrown herself into Governance with the same unstoppable zeal she had once demonstrated while undergoing Lina's ridiculously intense training program' for learning the Dragon Slave. She had tasked herself to learn everything she could about finance, diplomacy, lawmaking, procedure, precedent, custom everything. To do anything less would be to fail in her Just Duty to her country. But it was such hard work! And so much!
Amelia paused to yawn yet again while two other guards, posted at the entrance to the Royal Apartments, bent to open the doors. The two who had accompanied the Princess stood smartly at attention, awaiting dismissal; Amelia turned towards them. One of the other tasks she had set herself was to learn the names of all the Palace Guard and Staff. It had been easy with the select hundred or so who guarded the Family quarters and Royal Persons, like the four around her at this moment. They were chosen for long service and proven loyalty and she had known most of them since she was little. But the other couple of thousand Guards, and who knew how many House Staff were tough to keep straight. It had never yet occurred to Amelia how much impact it had on common servants and soldiers. To Amelia it was just the Right Thing To Do: their lives were pledged to defend and serve her, the least she could do was learn their names.
"Good night, Mister Jeffers, Mister Meritt." With a salute, they turned and marched back down the hall. Then she turned to step through the door, doing a double take when she realized the older one, a favourite of hers, had served the last three nights as well. Though a little light-headed with fatigue, she decided a little banter might help her forget the stresses of the day.
"You've drawn night duty again, Mister Tam? Have you become allergic to sunlight?" Tam had been in the Personal Guard fifteen years and was as inured to the Seyruun family quirks and informality as any could be.
"No, Princess. I actually traded several night shifts with some guards from next week"
Amelia's tone became conspiratorial. "Oh? Some lady in town?" She grinned when his blush told her might be partly right. The real reason, though, became clear when he coughed, then gestured towards his fellow door-guard.
"Ahem Princess, if I may presume?"
Amelia looked over at the other guard, whom she did not recognize. Realizing he wished to introduce them, she nodded.
Tam smiled "Princess Amelia, meet the newest member of the Personal Guard. This is Jarod, who replaces old Ronal that retired last month. I well Princess, I'm pleased to be able to say he's also my nephew. He's been escorting Prince Christopher for a week; this is his first duty shift on the Royal Quarters."
The named guard bowed. Amelia gave him an encouraging smile and offered her hand.
"Congratulations on your promotion, Mister Jarod! I'm glad to see Mister Tam has taken you in hand. How are you finding your new duties?"
Utterly taken off guard by her disregard for protocol, Jarod accepted her hand gingerly. "I um well enough, Your Highness. But very different from border duty". He paused, a little lost for words and blushing slightly. Common soldiers aren't normally prepared for friendly light conversation with their eventual Sovereigns, particularly cute seventeen-year old female ones.
Amelia covered the slightly awkward silence by yawning again "Awwwaaahuah Well I'm glad to have met you. I'm sure you will be a credit to your service, if you're of Mister Tam's family! But I have got to get some sleep, and shall stop distracting you from your duties."
With a wave and light laugh, she walked off. Jarod and Tam saluted, then closed the doors softly behind her.
A little bemused, Jarod looked at his uncle. "One hears, but it's a surprise to find it true. She'll not forget my name, will she? She is not what one expects in a Princess, to care like that for her servants"
Tam had reassumed a proper guard's pose, but broke protocol to wink and speak out of the side of his mouth "Count your blessings, son that you live in a land with Her Highness and the Prince as rulers. Now no more thinking Her Highness' informality is an excuse for dereliction of your duty, soldier! Don't disappoint her faith in our family's record!" The order was curt, but the older guard's eyes reflected laughter.
Jarod snapped to attention and resumed a proper guard's demeanor, silently facing down the long hallway. He spent the rest of his shift wondering at the diminutive Princess who had with just a few friendly words bought a measure of personal loyalty to add to what he already owed out of duty.
* * * * * * * * * *
Innocent of the fact she had casually just gained another loyal heart, Amelia had almost reached her door when she heard a loud chuckle from the Royal Study, followed by a softer one. The Princess suddenly realized she hadn't spoken to Daddy or Uncle Christopher since Morning Court. She walked over and knocked politely, then opened it at her father's loud "Enter!" Crown Prince Philionel never seemed to speak in anything less than a boisterous bellow.
"Good Evening Daddy Uncle." She went over to share a big bear hug with her father.
"Daughter! Are you only just getting away from your duties?! Join us for a nightcap. It can't hurt, and will help you get to sleep!" He gestured at an open bottle of sweet Elmikian Sherry on a sidetable.
"I, well maybe a little. If it will help me get to sleep."
She yanked off her tiara and tossed it negligently onto a padded footrest. She joined her father and uncle by the fireplace by collapsing into a big velvet-upholstered comfy chair. She suddenly realized her feet were killing her and reached down to massage them.
"Oooh-ow, Daddy! I can't believe how quickly the day passed. I was just about to go to bed, when I heard you in here and realized it's probably been twelve hours since I last saw you. However did you manage to find time to do everything before I took over Foreign Relations? wagugh!" Her father's encouraging backslap made her gasp audibly as he boomed out a reassurance.
"Wahhha-ha hah! Don't worry, Amelia! Things are rarely ever this busy. It's just the whole business of your upcoming Confirmation and all the foreign deputations that will be attending, added to poor old King Malthos of Elmikia's ill health, and all the complications still arising from renewed contact with the Outer World. You're doing very well! A real baptism by fire! Haha! In a month, things will have settled down." To any spectator, it would have been clear that Amelia came by her unquenchable enthusiasm honestly. If anything, her father had more.
Amelia smiled, then exhaled a little numbly. "Phoo. I sure hope so." Her tone turned ironic "It might be nice to remember what eight hours of sleep feels like. I'd almost rather be battling a ranking Mazoku like Kanzell again, than this never-ending avalanche of paperwork."
Christopher and Philionel shared a glance and curt nod, then Christopher began: "You might try delegating a bit more of your work to Frederick. He had you doing some of everything while you learned the ropes. Now, you've taken on almost all of everything and are just overworking yourself"
Amelia gave him a sour look "If I had a gold sovereign for every time someone said that to me"
He smiled "It's nothing less than the truth. Honestly, Dear Niece, Secretary Frederick would welcome the suggestion. He's been at a loss for stuff to do the last few months."
"Mister Frederick? But he's always at work as long as I am!"
Philionel waded in "But, only doing what any undersecretary could do! Sorting documents and advising is far easier work than having to make the actual decisions. Not that he minds – he's come to quite like working with you instead of me. Maybe more! Haha! Get him to recommend someone! You start training the new fellow in the way you like things done, and delegate back to Frederick some duties!" He smiled. "In fact, that's an order! Training an assistant would be good experience for you!" He winked. "And you need to free up some time to give thought to your Birthday and Confirmation ceremonies!"
Amelia had developed a small sweatdrop and a slightly exasperated expression "You were just waiting up, hoping I would come in tonight so you could tell me this, weren't you?"
Princes Christopher and Philionel grinned like the conspirators they were. Then Philionel handed her the glass of sherry he had poured. He put a hand on her shoulder and became serious.
"Daughter! Never doubt you're doing me proud! But knowing what is too much work and how to delegate are two of the most important skills you can learn. No leader of a nation can do everything!"
Amelia's eyes had gone big, round and moist at his words. "Oh, Daddy!"
"Daughter!"
Christopher smiled and sipped at his drink while his older brother and his niece slipped into one of their hugging fits. Once that had subsided, all three chatted animatedly about the day's business for a half hour, before finally and thankfully calling it a night and going their separate ways.
* * * * * * * * * *
Two mornings later, Amelia was sitting in her family's Breakfast Solar. The break in the weather that had earlier touched off a festival in Atlass City had reached Saillune, and the Princess was enjoying the sun streaming in through the large east-facing windows. A large tome lay open but ignored before her.
She had taken her Father's advice and approached Secretary Frederick about shifting some of her workload back to him, and quickly discovered it had been a conspiracy of three. It had only taken Frederick a day to reschedule and reorganize everything, which bespoke of considerable preparation. Secretary Frederick now took Morning Court and all the less important delegations and petitions, while Amelia handled important matters during Afternoon Court. The two were to meet daily at lunch and after dinner to compare notes. This was the first day of her new schedule. Though Amelia was reveling in her first downtime in what she now realized had been far too long, it had mixed benefits.
Upon waking that morning she had restarted her neglected morning regimen of heavy calisthenics and gymnastics only to discover how much of her former fitness she had lost in the interim. It had taken an hour's hot soak to relieve the soreness and stretched muscles from exercises that a year ago wouldn't even have caused her to break a sweat. Part of the reason she was lazing in the sun now was that her legs were still complaining too much to want to be moving about. That part of the morning ordeal had not been without a silver lining, though: several pieces of equipment in her private gym had had to be adjusted. Apparently she had had a last, late growth spurt and added a few inches in the last eighteen months.
The second half of the morning was turning out to be something of a disappointment. The massive book on the table, a slogging discourse on ancient temple rituals, had taken months for her to track down after returning from the Outer World. It had only arrived in Saillune after her assignment as Foreign Minister had consumed her life. She had been waiting to dive into it for over a year, hoping it might provide a hint or two on human use of Holy Magic. It was turning out to be a dud. All this book talked about was the proper procedures for rinsing holy water decanters, the placement of flowers for specific holy days, and other absolutely useless material. The Dragon Race had sealed away the power of Holy Magic, denying it to human users, after the War of the Monster's Resurrection a millennium past. It was becoming apparent to Amelia that they had done just as thorough a job of eliminating any written references on how to do it, or even the theory behind it.
In a final gesture of disgust, she shoved the book away and turned her back on it, to face out the window. Very few things, besides the perpetration of crimes, really annoyed Amelia. But the lost arts of Holy Magic, and the way they had been yanked out of human hands by smugly self-superior Dragons, was one of them.
She only had one lead left – other than going begging to Miss Filia the ex-Dragon Priestess – but it was one she didn't want to even consider tackling without consulting Miss Lina. It was just one more reason she wished to see the madcap redhead. No one knew more about Magic Theory, and lost or proscribed Books, than Lina Inverse.
She sighed at that last thought. There had been no news on her wayward mentor and dear friends' whereabouts, and Amelia had resigned herself, disappointedly, to the likelihood she and Mister Gourry would not be found in time for the celebrations. At least Mister Zelgadis was due back in a few days
Amelia gasped as she suddenly became aware she'd barely given a waking thought to her blue, stone-skinned comrade in weeks. More than anything else, that moment of realization made her realize how hard she had been pushing herself and how close to burning herself out she must be. Wait a minute waking thought? Why had she mentally phrased it that way? The strayed musing jostled loose a few fragments of recent dreams forgotten.
A brewing flush was accompanied by an embarassed "Eeep!"
She hustled to push that line of thinking aside. Not that she was ashamed. She'd admitted her fondness for the Chimera to herself years ago, before even Hellmaster had died. She had fully realized it went well beyond fondness during those last, frantic hours before DarkStar was finally defeated. None of it had since diminished, and she liked having Zelgadis reliably around, even only for short periods, which was why she had come up with the whole business of Royal Cartographer. And she would be eighteen within the month, a woman in the eyes of the law; one of her eventual duties would be to produce heirs for the Kingdom. But should a shrine maiden, Royal Princess, and self-proclaimed Ally of Justice be having dreams like that? Amelia realised she was on the verge of a wicked giggle. She decided to change her mental subject by turning to the contemplation of a worrisome development from the day before:
Elmikia's delegation to her Confirmation had arrived in Saillune that morning, and had presented themselves at Afternoon Court. It had quickly become obvious why old Ambassador Regin had written his urgent personal letter and request: he had worried, with good reason, that any request from the Elmikian embassy soon would be met with suspicion in Saillune.
Also, by his request, Count Regin had insured that the Seyruuns would know, in time, that the changeover was even taking place. Something that some in the delegation had clearly not wished known.
They had noisily poured in towards the end of Afternoon Court, disrupting the scheduled course of petitions while other attending parties shuffled to make room. They had taken an inordinately long time to settle down, and there had been far too many for a simple presentation and formal greeting. It would clearly have taken longer, had Ambassador Regin, still nominally in charge, not been as forceful as he was. The most fractious lot had been a small group of aristocrats whom Amelia did not recognize. Two in particular caught her eyes. The first was a stern-looking older man of military bearing and harsh countenance, clearly a high noble and probably Count Regin's replacement. The second was a younger-seeming fellow who had gone silver-haired early, wearing an outrageous costume involving lace, cloaks and surcoats, high boots, and a feathered brim-cap. The older had demanded proper seating for someone of his rank (a Duke? Amelia had wondered. What could that mean? Elmikian Dukes are all related by blood or marriage to their King!), despite their late arrival. Unable to dispute the rightful but ill-timed request, Regin had shrugged apologetically to the attending Sailleese footservants who set about finding a proper chair, finally locating a Zefeerian Merchant Guildmaster willing to offer up his seat.
By that point, everyone attending – a couple of ambassadors from minor Kingdoms, observers from a couple others, and a large Zefeerian trade delegation led by the helpful Guildmaster – had realized that something was going on, and tension had edged to palpability. The Elmikian Empire was Saillune's closest rival in power and influence on the continent. With an impending change in Elmikian leadership, this boorish behaviour on the part of their Embassy betokened a nervous future.
Amelia had realized their plan: to present and accredit the new Ambassador, normally a very formalized affair. But without Regin's little note, she would have been surprised. At the very least it would have been embarrassing for Saillune, and, at worst, because the formal notice had been sent to her – late - she could have been accused of arrogance and neglectfulness towards a rival kingdom. If she hadn't been so overworked, the document would normally have reached her in time, barely, so anything she said in defense of her ignorance would have looked like an excuse. They had gambled that she wouldn't be expecting them. She still had to think fast on her feet, as the new Ambassador's aide had begun to step toward the dais. She had stood up and spoken in a clear, strong voice to the whole room.
"Saillune welcomes the delegation from the Elmikian Empire! We would be pleased to grant the deputation a few more minutes to arrange itself more comfortably" neatly turning that ploy back against them "by ordering a ten-minute recess while our Housecarls organize additional seating for the unexpectedly large delegation. Let no one think Saillune is unwilling to take the time to ensure the hospitality of her guests." She had handed her Scepter of Office to a page before the advancing Elmikian could say anything, signifying the suspension of all official business. The Elmikian's assistant had halted, head turning to his superior, who nodded and curtly waved his agreement to Amelia's suggestion. But the Duke's eyes had glittered with checked irritation.
She had then stepped close to Frederick. "See to it that they're settled properly. And find enough pages and upper level staff to make the new Ambassador's presentation ceremony properly formal!"
Frederick had smiled. "Already being done, Princess. I took the liberty as soon as I was informed their little circus had entered the Palace grounds."
Amelia had then let out a small puff and sagged in relief, forcing out a smile of her own. "Phoo. Thanks. You're the best! I'd better make sure there are no bruised egos anywhere"
Turning, she had stepped down to the quietly murmuring party from the small Kingdom of Lennos, whose petition had been interrupted by Elmikia's entrance. They turned to her and bowed.
Amelia began. "Please accept my apologies for this interruption. Elmikia clearly has important business and it will no doubt take some time" Her apologetic tone couldn't completely hide the irony behind her last few words. "I am at your disposal after official Court if it becomes necessary."
The Ambassador from Lennos had stifled a chuckle at her implied criticisms. "No offense has been taken, Your Highness. Lennos enjoys the peaceful prosperity encouraged by you Seyruuns and is only too happy to assist in pulling Elmikia's unexpectedly bared teeth by ceding our appointment this afternoon." His expression then shifted to mild outrage "One wonders what Elmikia is doing by making such an abrasive entrance?"
"You and everyone else, I think," said Amelia, looking around the room. Expressions mostly ranged from puzzlement to outrage though some among Zefeeria's contingent were almost approving. Uh-oh she looked behind at the observers in attendance. The same – mostly puzzled or shocked, but one or two Then she saw one was nodding in open approval as he studied the Elmikian Duke. When that one realized Amelia had spotted him, he schooled his features back to neutrality. Amelia recognized him as being from a small port-city state that had lost considerable trade revenue to Saillune's large, fast-growing trading port of Atlass City.
Amelia had swallowed as she turned towards her dais to resume the business of Court.
She had looked at Frederick and saw that he too was concerned. She thought she had successfully headed off a minor Elmikian ploy only to discover it had been a part of a bigger play. As she sat down and mouthed the formal words concluding the recess, she had realized an important little battle had already been lost. It probably couldn't have been won.
Her mind returning to the present sunny Solarium, Amelia shook her head. Elmikia's Crown Prince had, through his delegation's behaviour the day before, just broadcast his future policy. He was publicly raising the flag of discontent with Saillune's overwhelming influence in trade and continental affairs. By obnoxious posturing, he was trying to demonstrate Elmikia had no fear of Saillune retaliation. He obviously hoped to rally others to his cause.
The new Ambassador was Duke Vanlac, an uncle of the Elmikian Crown Prince. While presenting his credentials, he had acted as though Princess Amelia was a child who only held her position through her father's indulgence, and directed all he said to Frederick. The few times he spoke to her his tone bordered on condescending. She had finally been forced to interrupt, saying she was understanding if some indisposition – a headache maybe – had brought on his incivility and, since he obviously had been ordered to complete his business that afternoon, offering to ease it with a healing spell. Someone in the front ranks of the audience – Lennos' delegation maybe – had chuckled at Amelia's comment. Vanlac had realized he would not score any more points by continuing as he had, and moderated his rudeness.
Regin had then presented the other new Embassy staff. The strangely-dressed fellow, it appeared, was just a visitor who had traveled with the delegation from Elmikia out of curiosity. He was introduced as Master Terrin. Despite seeming to be the Duke's friend, Terrin was actually quite charming and friendly. Most of the other new staff were not. Several of the older Elmikian staff in attendance, who had worked with Amelia or Philionel in the past, had had the grace to look miserable and confounded at the turning of events but Amelia knew more trouble was on the horizon. This was just a first taste. Vanlac definitely fell into the category she defined as evil': cold, calculating, intentionally rude or mean as needed, hardhearted and itching for a fight. Even now, a day later, she wanted to smash him silly with the Hammer of Justice.
She shifted the arm that had supported the weight of her head while she leaned in worried thought. It had gone to sleep. Realizing she had been musing for quite awhile, she glanced at the water clock on the mantelpiece. Her hair standing on end, she broke out in a cold sweat, on the verge of open panic.
"H-hunh? Whaaaa? I must have dozed off for a bit! Ambassador Regin will be here in just fifteen minutes!"
In answer to her predicament – she was still in her somewhat scanty after-bath wear – Lady Matilda, gray-haired and iron-willed chief of the Palace household staff, bustled into the room, followed by several ladyservants "Amelia, dear! What are you doing? Daydreaming like you were eleven again, no doubt! Haha! I've taken the liberty of selecting clothes for your meeting with that old fox Regin, since you were obviously too busy napping when I checked in!" Auntie Matilda was somehow related the Seyruun Family, but Amelia had never been told exactly how.
Matilda clapped her hands and Amelia, protesting profusely, was surrounded in a dizzying whirlwind of activity "Waaagh! Gack! Auntie! Wait!" She was manhandled into formal clothes and her hair was simultaneously rearranged with crisp efficiency. Amelia suddenly had all-too-probable visions of her upcoming Birthday celebrations: Matilda and her ruthless army of Ladies-in-Waiting ready to pounce from behind every corner and makeover the Princess between events. In a flash of pure mischief, Amelia decided to deflect Auntie – who had seen far too little of Amelia for her own liking in the last five years and seemed too ready to correct for it – into remaking her friends if they ever showed up. The thought of Lina Inverse trapped in the middle of a maelstrom like the one Amelia was in now made the Princess howl and double over with laughter. This threw the dozen hands trying to comb locks, straighten pleats, or affix jewelry into dismayed chaos as she convulsed.
Auntie Matilda looked over sharply "Goodness, wherever did that come from? You haven't laughed like that in more than a year!"
Amelia rubbed her eyes clear of mirth. "You're right, Auntie, and I'm only just now realizing how much I must have been worrying everyone. I I just had a terribly funny idea that I want to discuss with you. It has its risks, though." Then the image of Zelgadis in such a domestic whirlwind rose up in her mind's eye and she was convulsed with laughter again. She could almost hear his exasperated "Amelia!" or "What's going on?!? What's happening to me? Aaaaugh!" as his hair was primped, collar tugged and nose powdered, and that just made her laugh harder.
Auntie smiled. A half-day's rest and already the Princess was regaining her irrepressible good humour? Matilda felt Amelia had taken on too much too soon after her last strange voyage, and some needful healing had been held up. It would have to wait a little longer, though.
"Tell me about it later, then, Dear. Right now you have work to do." To emphasize her point, several more servants shuffled in, bearing a silver tea service and assorted cakes, cheese and pastries. Secretary Frederick followed close behind.
She sighed at being forced back into the suddenly murky continental politics that had been so nagging at her. Her Responsible Princess half contrasted too much with the just briefly revisited, sorely missed, and suppressed happy-go-lucky half. Right then she decided to start involving herself a lot more in preparations for her upcoming Big Day. And maybe look for some new hobbies. If nothing else, it would distract her from irritated brooding like this morning's. She gave a game grin to Auntie and Frederick, then sat down to compose herself for the upcoming meeting while the servants filed out and Matilda took position by the tea service. Amelia realized that her Auntie – no fool – had kept up to date with events. If Count Regin were at all concerned about this meeting there would be no faceless servants to raise worries of informants. There would only be two members of the Seyruun Blood Royal, though one's was fuzzy, and the undeniably trustworthy Frederick. She grimaced inwardly that such careful considerations had seemingly become necessary, literally overnight. Then came the rap on the door.
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NEXT CHAPTER: Hints of trouble? And WHO is coming to visit Sailoon?
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Slayers Characters © 1991-2002 Hajime Kanzaka, Rui Araizumi, a whole lot of other people and not a few multinational corporations. I'm not looking for a piece of their action, just paying homage to it. Story and all other content © 2002 D. Robbins
Special thanks to Debbie for editing and Sharlene, Diane and Kelly for their pre-reading and commentaries!
