Being as far from the warming fires of the Flame Kingdom as most dry land gets, Saginaw City—the capital of the Drop Kingdom—is among the first where winter sets in and is among the last to escape its icy grip. Even as the calendars turn to April, piles of dirty snow remain along the sidewalks and streets, the only most impatient of the deciduous trees have so much as begun to bud, and the grass is still yellow and dormant. Mornings have a chill to the air, and that threat of one last snowstorm always looms.
Princess Milro shivered empathetically when she hazarded a glance out the nearest window and could just tell it was freezing outside. The canals were unusually placid—probably covered by a thin film of ice—and even the icy shade of blue to the early morning sky suggested the air was frigid beyond the glass. The Princess of the Drop Kingdom turned back to her canvas and warmer times that inspired her latest work.
Her partially finished painting was of one of the canals from the vantage point of a gondola with its bow extending ahead. It was the very end of spring or start of summer, sometime in the latter half of June given the show the ubiquitous catalpas were putting on. Their branches were laden with clusters of their showy, white flowers over their gigantic, bright green leaves. The blue of the sky was warm, slightly faded by humidity and haze.
The city had a working-class sense to its beautification. The lawns were not just a monotone carpet of green but patchworks of many shades from the several kinds of grass as well as other ground covers like clover. Speckles of white and purple represented the clover blossoms. Meanwhile, in the flowerbeds, many plants were between the finished spring blooms and those coming in the impending summer. The daylilies only had the odd, orange trumpet open but promising a chorus in the next month. The milkweed and common mullen were also just starting to bloom to add color against the white walls of the blue onion dome–topped buildings.
Front and center, and rising above it all, were the white towers and blue onion domes of Drop Castle. A puffy cumulus cloud with white billows on top and a flat, gray bottom sat above the main tower, coming into being from the cloud machine the castle hid within its walls. The top billowed as it expanded before the wind could pick it up and take it wherever it was meant to go. That was how the Wonder Planet's weather worked. Their Drop Kingdom made the clouds, and the Windmill Kingdom generated the wind that carried them to deliver precipitation wherever they began to rain or snow.
The painting was partly wishful thinking. After being forced to spend the past six months using a corner of the main lounge for her painting, she was eager to return to the balcony she had made into her private studio. She wanted to smell the salty air coming off the bay mixing with the sweet fragrance of flowers bursting from the pots around her and listen to the calls of sea gulls gliding on the sea breeze with Saginaw City spread out in front of her. Most importantly, she wanted the ability to be truly alone in her own little world. Even in the pouring rain, so long as there was no lightning or thunder, and the wind was not blowing the rain too hard, she would be out there. Unfortunately, it would be a couple weeks more. Yet, she could practically taste that time when she would be painting outside again.
Going back to her painting, her current focus was on one of those little details that gave a painting life. A tiny blotch of pale cream sat on the bow of the gondola. A butterfly, likely just emerged from its chrysalis, used the gondola as a convenient spot to rest as it got use to its new wings. She picked up one of her smaller brushes. The butterfly had its wings opened, with one set done and needing the other.
"Beautiful as always, Milro" a voice said gently.
Milro turned with a start to the side to see Queen Yamul—her mother—standing over her shoulder, looking at her picture. "Mother!"
The greater Beaver woman turned to her and backed up a step, holding her palms open as if to reestablish Milro's personal space. "Sorry for startling you." She turned to the painting again. "But it is beautiful."
Milro picked up her desired brush and dabbed its bristles in the pale cream on her palette to collect just the right amount of pigment. She made a couple delicate taps to the canvas and the butterfly had its second set of wings.
"Though, I've noticed you always paint landscapes of the castle and Saginaw City," Yamul commented.
It was true. Milro preferred landscapes, and invariably they were of the castle and the capital city that surrounded it. She shrugged in response. "They say paint what you know."
"Still, it wouldn't hurt to expand your horizons," Yamul replied.
Milro looked to her mother again, hoping she did not wear her surprise too blatantly on her face. Her mother would only criticize her for performing badly. What brought on this comment?
Apparently, she betrayed her thoughts as her mother held up her open palms again. "It's only a suggestion."
She reached into the pocket of her blouse. "Anyway, I was actually looking for you because I have something to give you." She pulled out a small box. "It was meant for your birthday, but was late getting back from the shop."
Milro set down her brush and palette and took the paint-stained cloth off her dress to stand. She took the box in her dainty hands as Yamul set it gently into her palms. "Happy belated birthday, Milro."
Milro opened the box and took out the small, gold pocket watch it contained. A cut sapphire in the shape of a curled raindrop served as the main element of the Drop Kingdom's sigil etched into it. "You're watch," she gasped.
"It's your watch now," Yamul said. Milro realized the gold chain that had always hung over Yamul's skirt was gone—or rather, it was now in her hand. "That watch has been passed down from mother to daughter in the royal family since its creation. The crown princess receives it on her sixteenth birthday to mark her first steps into womanhood."
First steps into womanhood, Milro thought to herself as she examined the watch. She always saw Yamul with it, occasionally taking it out to check the time. It felt a bit odd she would have it.
She pushed down the winder, and the lid opened. She had never seen the inside; it never occurred to her to ever ask. She was not sure what she was expecting, but it was typical of a fancy watch. Minute ticks were marked around the perimeter with black roman numerals against the face—the four being "IV," not "IIII" like some watches and clocks—and the hour, minute, and seconds hands were ornate. There was also the day of the week visible through a hole under the "XII." The ticking was gentle as the second hand went from minute tick to minute tick.
She looked to the inside of the lid. Etched into the gold was the message:
SUN ALL
THE TIME
MAKES A
DESERT
Milro furrowed her brow. "Sun all the time makes a desert?"
"An old Arabic expression," Yamul answered. Milro returned her attention to her mother.
"It means we should embrace challenge in our lives," Yamul explained, "as it is through overcoming it that we grow." She smirked. "In a more literal sense, it's why we make the clouds for the Wonder Planet.
"Anyway, that's why I suggested you try different subjects in your paintings. You never know what you'll discover about yourself when you leave your comfort zone."
Milro felt a pang in her stomach and she folded her ears over out of instinct as she made her entire body collapse in profile to take up as little space as possible. As what this meant sink in, those fears about her future began bubbling to the surface again. A watch, she thought, just what I need to remind me time is ticking away.
"Is something wrong?" Yamul asked.
Milro looked up to her mother and straightened her ears. She planned her deflection fast. "Oh, no, just thinking of something." She forced a smile and held up the watch. "Thank you for the watch, Mother."
She picked the clip at the other end of the chain and it and the watch apart. She looked down at her light blue bodice and white, bell-shaped skirt. "But, how do I wear it?"
Yamul smiled. She picked up the left-front flap of Milro's bodice that lay over the top of her skirt to reveal a loop of fabric on its underside. "Ever wonder why this one has a loop?" She took the watch's clip and fastened it to the loop. "It just clips here." She took the watch and slipped it into a small pocket built into the panel of her skirt just below the right-front flap. "The watch then goes here, and there."
Milro held her hands together on top of her skirt, the chain dipping just below them. Yamul stepped back, taking in the sight, and beamed. "Wear it with pride, Milro," she said, "as the crown princess and future queen of the Drop Kingdom."
"I will, Mother," Milro replied.
Yamul's smile faded and she took her reading glasses on a pearl chain from their resting place over her chest and balanced them on her muzzle. She pushed her sleeve back to look at the watch on her wrist. "Now I just got to get use to this thing." She nodded. "My meeting with Elena will begin shortly." She motioned with her head for Milro to follow as she walked towards the stares.
Milro picked up her skirt as they descended the two flights of the grand staircase. "Sophie is somewhere around here," Yamul said as they reached the second-floor landing and headed down the staircase to the left of the fountain to the main floor. "Why don't you find her and give her and her lady-in-waiting a tour of the castle?"
"I can do that, Mother," Milro replied.
As they stepped off the last step and onto the main floor, Yamul stopped and turned to Milro. "Have a good rest of the day, Milro." She reached out her hand and Milro stooped slightly for her to push back her sandy bangs and give her a quick kiss on her forehead. "You've gotten so tall," Yamul commented, as Milro was a few centimeters taller than her.
Yamul turned and walked towards the threshold to one of the underwater hallways.
"Uh, Mother," Milro called after her.
Yamul stopped and turned back. "Yes, Milro?"
Milro froze. What she wanted to say got stuck in her throat. No matter how much she tried to force it, it stayed put. She pushed it down to let another deflection to take its place. She smiled and waved. "Just have a good meeting, Mother."
Yamul smiled. "Thank you, Milro." She turned and walked to the tunnel. Milro waited until Yamul disappeared into the tunnel before relaxing, like a balloon releasing air. She slouched and turned back.
At the top of the grand staircase there was a larger-than-life portrait of her mother, sitting with the Commonwealth Constitution as a long scroll spread across her lap and holding one end up. She wore a warm smile and seemed to oversee the whole lounge—another reason Milro wanted to escape it for her balcony.
Milro climbed to the second story landing and looked up at the portrait, holding her hands together and tapping the tips of her index fingers together. It was a nervous tick of hers for when she was feeling pensive, which was quite often when she thought about it.
"I'm sorry, but I just can't bring myself to tell you, Mother," Milro said in a small voice. "I try to picture myself as queen, but I just can't. How could I ever follow in your footsteps after what you've done for this kingdom?"
She looked down at her skirt and hands, as she felt too ashamed to lock eyes with even her mother's image. "You're always so decisive and confident: a rock in the roughest surf, and a beacon in the darkest storms. I'm none of those things. My voice is too soft, and I'm not good with words, and I don't know if I could make the tough decisions you do or stand up against the overwhelming pressures you have. Even with a decade, I don't know if I can fix these things about me."
She looked up and dipped in a small curtsy. "Well, thank you for listening—again."
"I'm loving all these flowers," Milro hear a voice say.
It came from above her. "Hello?"
Sophie popped her head over the railing. The half-Doggle teen smiled and waved. "Hey there, Milro."
Sophie quickly made her way to the stairs and descended them. "I was just admiring your painting and all the flowers in it."
The oldest princess of the Windmill Kingdom had a thing for flowers, recognizing their presence and seeing to their wellbeing before people if the stories from Altezza were to be believed. The flowers were meant to be a minor aspect of Milro's painting, but she was glad the work she had put into them were appreciated by someone.
Sophie joined Milro on the second story landing. Mother told me to find Sophe, Milro thought. Mission accomplished. Though…
"Where's your lady-in-waiting?" Milro asked.
"Oh, Nicole's making breakfast arrangements," Sophie answered. "Have you eaten yet?"
"I had a light breakfast," Milro replied.
"Well, I should tell her to make it a breakfast for three." Sophie smiled with that beaming grin of hers. The spring green–haired teen was the same source of seemingly endless joy as always. Though, her attire had made a drastic change as of late. Gone were the bodice, stole, and opera gloves of her old formal gown, replaced with a purple jacket that extended over her skirt to the sides and back, a dark purple mantel and white cape, and the white gloves now only covered her hands and wrists. Her dome of a crown was mostly unchanged, only adding the French horn emblem of the Windmill Kingdom in the sun of its sky motif to mirror her parents and brother. The skirt was the same—a white, paneled, full-length bell with a dark purple wave pattern above the ruffled hem. Much like being a teenager was being between child and adulthood, the outfit gave the sense of a halfway between her old look and her mother's.
That made Milro realize her "conversation" might have had an audience. "Uh, Sophie, how much did you hear?"
Sophie glanced away, stroking one of her long, pendulous ears covered in fluffy, pink fur that faded to white at the end. Milro was not sure if playing their ears was typical of Doggles, but Sophie seemed to do it often. She faced Milro again and gave a shrug with a smile while still holding her ear. "Only from 'I'm sorry.'"
Milro heaved a heavy sigh and folded her own ears over. "So, the whole thing."
Sophie flicked her hand in a dismissive manner. "Don't worry about that. My mother says there's nothing wrong with talking to inanimate objects. It's only when they answer back you should worry."
Milro picked up her ears. "That's not what I meant." She paused, wondering if she wanted to share this with an actual person, even if it was Sophie. She had heard anyway, so she might as well go all the way. "Can you keep a secret, Sophie?"
"You only needed to ask and my lips are sealed." Sophie pantomimed zipping her lips closed.
Milro smiled. "Thank you."
She drew in a breath and exhaled it as a long sigh as she collected her thoughts.
"I'm growing up, Sophie," Milro said, "physically at least. But, in terms of working towards becoming queen…I feel like I'm stuck in place if not falling further behind."
She looked up to the picture of her mother looming over them, and looming was the perfect description. From the bottom of the upper flight, its enormity was exaggerated by the sharp angle. Yet, Milro found it more fitting. "Even though I'm taller than my mother, this is how I feel in presence. She's this larger-than-life figure towering over me, and I'm down here as this insignificant little thing hiding in her shadow." Really, it seemed unnatural to be looking down at her mother when they were together, like a child standing on a chair to be eye to eye with their parent.
She looked down at her skirt and her fingers tapping against each other, again feeling unworthy to make eye contact with her mother's image. Light glinted off the chain, a newcomer to her look much like the changes to Sophie's outfit—albeit much more subtle. "I'll never measure up to her, even if I had a century let alone a decade to prepare."
"That's right." Sophie rested her chin on her fist and stroked her ear. "The Drop Kingdom queen is crowned when she turns twenty-six, isn't she?" Milro answered with a small nod to confirm that was indeed a case.
She walked to a mirror at the end of the landing. "The people of the Drop Kingdom deserve the best queen possible to succeed my mother." She took in her reflection and a sandy-haired half-Beaver teen with large, dark brown eyes stared back at her. As a hybrid, she—as well as Sophie—appeared mostly Human. The most conspicuous differences were their ears. They also had tails, but they were hidden under their skirts. There were some minor characteristics they inherited from their non-Human parents. Not among them, for Milro, was the robust frame from a greater—and female, in particular—Beaver. She was the exact opposite of her mother, physically. Petite, dainty, and fair; she looked like a fairytale princess who just stepped out of a picture book. She might be the most princess-like princess as people often say, but queen material? "No matter how hard I search, I just can't seem to find her in me."
Sophie stepped behind Milro in the mirror. "Have you talked to your mother about this?"
Milro turned to Sophie with a start. "I can't!" she blurted before she could think better of it. "I mean, I don't want to disappoint her," she said in a more composed but still too frantic voice. "She figured this out when she was a princess, so I have to as well." She turned to reflection again. "I'm just not sure how."
Sophie held her ear against her chin and cheek and stared off into space. "You know, Auler sometimes feels overwhelmed by the prospect of being king." She picked up her free hand so she could hold her finger up. "Father tells him, 'Great men aren't born, Auler, they're made,'" she said with the quote in a deepened voice to sound masculine. She smiled. "The same has to be true for women. You just need to go out there and prove yourself."
Sophie had a knack for chasing away the gloom. In a way, Milro envied her as she could not stop a small but genuine smile from crossing her face. "Thank you, Sophie." Her smile bent into a joking smirk. "Now all I need is a call to adventure and I'd be good to go, right?"
Sophie's smile broadened. "It should be walking in any minute."
The two princesses giggled, and Milro felt her trepidations melt away. Fine and Rein might have a talent of lightening people's hearts, but Sophie was able to put worries into context and show that maybe they are not as big as they seem. Milro's sensitive ears—finally getting their proper attention now that she was not so fixated—picked up the sound of heavy footsteps.
She looked down over the railing to a greater Beaver man dropping a tall stack of folded newspapers into the wire bin next to one of the underwater tunnels. He happened to look up and took off his hat to bow. "Good morning, Princesses. Paper's in, hot off the presses."
Milro knotted her brow as she thought it was rather late for the paper to just come in. She remembered she had a watch to take out and check. "It's after seven."
The man placed his hat on his head. "They had to scrap the whole first edition because of late night developments." He turned to the tunnel. "Read all about it."
Milro looked to Sophie who only gave a shrug. They picked up their skirts and walked down the stairs as quickly as was safe and Milro went to take the first paper off the stack.
The first thing to catch her eye was the main headline 'HOG HELL STRIKES AGAIN' in big, bold letters with the subtitle 'Criminal bikers steal 25kg of silver, leave gold and gems' between it and a large, colored picture of a Jewelry Kingdom bank marked off with yellow police tape.
"There was another silver theft in the Jewelry Kingdom," Milro reported. Her eyes happened to drift to the side column. "Oh my," she gasped.
The side column was titled 'Seed Kingdom levee failure floods +6k hectares' with a black and white map of where on the Maple River it occurred. Milro began reading the story which was heart wrenching only a few sentences in. "There was a levee breach in the Seed Kingdom last night."
Sophie held her hands over her mouth to stifle a gasp. She removed them to say, "Oh dear. Was anyone hurt?"
Milro continued reading, but the details were vague with frequent reminders this was a developing story. "It doesn't say, but they only started searching at daybreak. There was a town in the flood zone, and there was no evacuation order. So many are missing, and they fear the worse."
"This is terrible," Sophie said holding her ear holding her ear. "I heard they were having a bad flood season this year, but I didn't know it was this bad." Her eyes then seemed to brighten and she clapped her hands together. "But it's also the perfect opportunity!"
Milro looked to Sophie, not able to process her reaction to what just came from her mouth. "Excuse me?" was all she could manage.
"I mean it's a chance to prove yourself," Sophie clarified. She took Milro's hand into her two, silk-covered palms. "I told you a call to adventure would come any minute."
I thought you were joking, Milro thought before she remembered this was Sophie and even the most ludicrous things that came from her mouth did so with the most genuine sincerity. Though, she was still confused. "How?"
"It's customary for a kingdom to offer aid to a neighboring country when they suffer a disaster, right?" Sophie asked rhetorically. "Well, why don't we go, representing our kingdoms to make the offer?"
Milro folded her ears over as she thought. "I don't know," she murmured.
"But your mother and my aunt were going on diplomatic missions when they were our age," Sophie said, "and aid offers are diplomacy one oh one."
Milro thought it over more. Her mother's words echoed in her mind. It wouldn't hurt to expand your horizons. You never know what you'll discover about yourself when you leave your comfort zone. She took her hand from Sophie's and took out her watch to open it and read the message on the inside of the cover. "Sun all the time makes a desert. Embrace challenge in our lives as it's through overcoming them that we grow." She closed the watch and held it in her fist. "Why not?"
"Great!" Sophie cheered and took Milro's hand to pull her along. "Let's go talk to our mothers!"
Milro had to skip her first step to follow along with Sophie. "Wait? Now?! But they're in a meeting!"
"I'm sure they'll agree this is important," Sophie said.
Milro felt like her midsection was twisting itself in an ever-tightening knot as they approached the door to the room her mother and Queen Elena had sequestered themselves in. She had to been taught from a very young age to not interrupt her mother when she was in a meeting. She could go to her father or Camille, her governess, if she needed anything. She tried to remind herself that this was an important matter she could only discuss with her mother, but she felt as timid as if she had lost a decade of age and was a little girl about to pester her busy mother.
They came to the pair of the doors which remained closed, meaning they were locked. There was a panel next to them to accept codes through a keypad and a card reader for those with an access card. However, what was most important to them was the red call button. Milro tapped her index fingers together, trying to tell either of them to push the button. She looked back to Sophie who motioned for her to do it. Milro turned back to call button and swallowed. She pushed the call button before she could think better of it.
A soft chime that could flatten a forest to Milro's ears sounded and an eternity passed in the split second before her mother's voice came from the speaker to ask "Who is it?"
Milro swallowed again and licked her lips to wet them. "It's uh…me, Milro…" She turned back to Sophie. "And Sophie." She turned back to the speaker. "We need to discuss something. Can we come in?" She got the last two sentences out before she would be cutoff.
Instead, there was another agonizing pause. "You two can come in," Yamul said.
The doors opened and Sophie grinned as she walked in. Milro followed her, making herself as small as possible. The room was one of the many tea rooms of the castle where a small number of people could meet in a cozy setting.
Her mother and Queen Elena sat on opposite sofas with a table holding their breakfast of pancakes and fruit between them. Sophie's mother and the Queen of the Windmill Kingdom was a beautiful half-Doggle woman. Her most striking features were her piercing, turquoise eyes and her ears that still extended to the point their ends easily rested in her lap while Sophie's only came to halfway between her shoulder and elbow. Their fur looking even thicker and softer as well. Her formal wear extenuated her tall and narrow frame with the skirts under the jacket remaining slim rather than flaring out in a bell like Sophie's.
This was in contrast to her own mother's attire where the blouse and tulip skirt made clear the mass of her body and shape suggesting the bulk of it was muscle even in her mid-40's. When her mother turned her dark eyes on Milro, she again felt like that insignificant speck in her presence. "What can we do for the two of you?"
Milro felt a lump form in her throat. She swallowed for a third time. "Um, well, you see, uh…" She held up the paper with the flood story facing her mother. "We just learned of the levee breach in the Seed Kingdom."
Yamul bobbed her head. "I see. It is terrible, but don't worry, Milro. Our kingdom's flood control system is much more sophisticated, and our engineers are monitoring our rivers and tributaries closely."
Milro realized she made sound like she was afraid of them suffering a similar fate or just being concerned for the Seed Kingdom. "No, it's not that, we're here because" —Milro stopped as what she wanted to say got stuck in her throat. She wanted to let a deflection pass it and swallow it down, but she needed to say it— "I mean, Sophie and I were discussing offering aid to the Seed Kingdom."
"You must be a mind reader," Yamul said. "We were actually going to discuss offering disaster relief to the Seed Kingdom ourselves."
"Well," Milro stammered, "what if Sophie and I went in your stead? You know, to make the offer in person to King Rex."
Yamul and Elena turned to each other, likely telling each other something non-verbally. "I mean, you have to be busy with other matters, so why don't we go?" Milro suggested.
"What do you think, Yamul?" Elena asked. "It is just a glorified milk run."
Yamul held her chin and bobbed her head in thought. "That is true, and an aid offer is the perfect chance to get their feet wet." She shifted her eyes upward and frowned. "If you can forgive the pun."
The two queens turned to Milro and Sophie. "Excellent thinking, Milro," Yamul said, "a good show of initiative."
"So, can we go?" Milro asked, feeling hope swell within her, inflating her minimizing posture.
Yamul nodded. "Yes. We'll leave this to you."
Milro felt relieved and as if her body rebounded like a spring. "We won't let you down, Mother."
"I'll make the call for them to start prepping the King Barbardo," Elena said. "As they say, there's no time like the present."
"Excellent." Yamul moved on the couch to make an open area she patted for Milro sit down on. Milro and Sophie sat next to their mothers as Yamul explained, "In the meantime we'll brief you on what we can offer and what to expect. You'll also need an escort."
The doors parted to let Master Chief Engineer Jerome Spigot walk into the Cloud Management Room. The Beaver—both greater and lesser—, half-Beaver, and Triton engineers standing at the primary manifold coming out of the center of the floor and seated at workstations along the wall of the large, dome-shaped room all turned to him as he entered.
"Master Chief Engineer on the deck!" an engineer announced and everyone came to attention.
"As you were," Spigot said in a flat voice, and they relaxed to an at ease posture. The lesser Beaver stormed around the manifold towards the command station directly behind it.
Shift Chief Erin Leslie turned her chair at the command station as Spigot approached. "You seem to be in an even stormier mood than usual, Master Chief," the dark-skinned half-Beaver said. Spigot's young adjutant, Emily Pearce, came out from behind the chair.
Spigot took the newspaper from under his arm and held it up. "It was inevitable, but there was levee breach last night in the Seed Kingdom, and it has all the makings of a mass casualty event."
The hum of conversation died immediately. Spigot turned to every engineer staring at him. "Which has no bearing on our work!" Spigot stated. Everyone returned to what they were doing.
Leslie stood up. "Speaking of our work, I'll head down to Desal. Bank Twenty-Eight is up for membrane replacement." She murmured to Emily, "Good luck, Emily," as she walked swiftly towards the door.
The young, lesser Beaver woman—with an unprofessional looking tuft of hair peeking out from under her bandanna over her forehead—turned to the departing shift chief. "You can't leave me alone with him like this."
Spigot hopped into the vacated chief's chair and adjusted it for his height. "Any particularly reason for that, Miss Pearce?" He pulled up the overview of the cloud towers, a map of the Drop Kingdom with green dots studding the coasts suggesting all three hundred towers were operating normally. No one could pin what was happening in the Seed Kingdom was due to a problem with their equipment.
"You might not want to hear this, Master Chief," Emily said in a quiet voice, "but a couple of weather observers put in a request to do a direction investigation of the atmosphere over and around the Seed Kingdom."
"You're right," Spigot answered flatly. "I don't want to hear it, and that is going to be a hard no."
"But it is strange that it has been raining constantly over only the Seed Kingdom for the past week," Emily said. "And acting like nothing's happened seems rather…cold."
Spigot looks to his adjutant, a journeywoman in her late-twenties. "Miss Pearce, what do they tell you about specifically swimming out to save someone who's drowning?"
Emily shrugged. "Don't?"
She got it, and Spigot pointed at her to make sure she understood. "Exactly! And the same goes for helping the Seed Kingdom." He sat back in his chair. "The only difference is those lilliputian luddites will drag you down with them out of spite instead of panic."
He turned to his station and brought up other readouts of their specific cloud tower's various operations. "They're running on pure rage down there at the moment, and their top priority is finding a target to unleash their ire upon. And, as the makers of the clouds, we're at the top of the list. The slightest thing out of the ordinary we do will be enough to set them off. So, personally, I wouldn't be caught dead within a hundred kilometers of that hot mess."
A chime sounded from Spigot's workstation. A red light flashed above a button labeled 'Queen's Office.' Spigot knotted his brow, thinking of why Queen Yamul would be calling this early in the morning. He pressed the button. "Cloud Generation Room," he said. "Master Chief Engineer Spigot speaking."
"Master Chief," Yamul's voice said from the speaker, "come to my office immediately. I have a matter to discuss with you."
Spigot continued to ponder what Yamul would want with him at this hour. Her voice was sharp and her verbiage direct, but more in the natural sharpness of her voice and directness of her manner of speaking that earned her the title of The Thunder Queen, so using her tone as a clue was pointless. There had been no major incidents that would warrant her attention. There was one way to find out for sure.
"I'll be right down." He pressed the button again to close the channel.
"I wonder what the Queen wants," Emily said.
Spigot drummed his fingers on the edge of his workstation. "I'm just hoping it's not last night's breaking news, but I've got a sneaking suspicion." It would be his luck.
He might as well get it over with. He pushed off from his workstation and turned his chair from it. "You have the room, Miss Pearce."
"Yes, Master Chief," Emily said with a salute.
Spigot hopped from his chair and headed for the door. Please don't let it be the Seed Kingdom, I'd take just about anything but that, he thought even if every fiber in his being screamed it most certainly was.
Milro turned to the main doors of her mother's office as they opened. Master Chief Spigot walked in. He was a Beaver like her mother with a tannish color to his coat typical of males in contrast to the cream or beige of females. His fur was particularly long and rough around his cheeks. He was of the lesser variety, closer in size to the non-sapient species of Castor at about three quarters of a meter tall. Her mother on the other hand was of the greater variety, similar in size to Humans at more than a meter and half tall. Stature was all that separated them as both had stout and robust frames. Though, her mother looked more impressive—and imposing—at her size.
"You wished to see me, Your Majesty?" Spigot asked, breaking Milro out of her musings. He stood at about the midpoint between the door and her mother's desk holding the wide brim of his tall, conical hat with both hands. A token safe distance, Milro thought.
The queen's office was very effective at making visitors in it feel small. Aside from the desk and chair for the queen, it was devoid of furniture. People are going to be more honest and direct when they're forced to stand, Yamul had told Milro to explain the minimalist furnishings. It also made it more open and expansive with nothing to break it into sections aside from where the queen sat, making you smaller compared to its volume.
Yamul sat in her chair behind her desk in front of large bay windows. "Yes, Master Chief."
The Master Chief seemed nervous, fidgeting while trying to hide it. Though, Milro could see his fingers flexing in their grip. She could empathize, having been under her mother's glare so many times. It made her body want to join in it until she heard her mother's voice snap, princesses don't fidget, in the back of her mind. She instead straightened her spine and fixed her gaze on the Master Chief's face.
"I'm pleased to report our operations are performing smoothly," he said, his voice sounding dry. "All three hundred towers are working within normal parameters with no significant issues."
"Excellent," Yamul said. "However, I called you here for a different matter."
She turned to Milro and Sophie as they stood to the side of her desk. "My daughter and Princess Sophie will be heading down to the Seed Kingdom to make our countries' formal offers of aid in light of their worsening flood disaster."
Milro turned to Spigot for his response. He clenched his teeth while trying to hide it, regaining his composure to pump his fist into the air, though weakly. "Biba. Knock yourselves out. What does this have to do with me?"
"You will escort them," Yamul stated.
Spigot's arm dropped to his side as if all the muscle in it went dead. The other dropped to the opposite side, keeping its hold on his hat. He looked up at Yamul with what Milro could only describe as abject horror in his dark eyes. "What?"
"You heard me, Master Chief," Yamul stated.
Spigot swallowed and tugged at the collar of his shirt under his jacket. He took his hat on both hands again. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, I'm an engineer, not a chaperone."
Yamul sat forward in her chair, a motion that seemed gentle, but Milro—and apparently Spigot, given his step back and held his hat higher towards his mouth like a shield—felt some unseen energy project from her to press down on him. "You're the Master Chief Engineer of the Cloud Generation Service and my Hydrometeor Czar," she said in an unwaveringly even voice that added and this isn't up for debate without actually speaking the words. Milro knew this all too well and wished she could convey so much information in just a manner of speaking. At least Yamul did not slap her desk. "Being their first diplomatic mission, I want them to have the best possible expertise backing them up, and you fit the bill." Though, the tone of her voice was more like her saying, they will have your expertise.
Spigot regained his footing, but his posture was broken as he held one of his open palms out, as if pleading while holding his hat to his side. "Then why not send Melody?" he begged, uncharacteristically using the given name of his fellow master chief engineer at Hydro Management. "This is a flood control issue, not a meteorological one."
"Master Chief López is busy at Hydro Management with our own flood season," Yamul said, sitting back in her chair. "As you said, things are going fine with the Cloud Generation Service, so they can spare you for a couple days."
Spigot rubbed his chin. He clicked his fingers and held up his index finger. "You know, I just remembered we'll be starting a major project that will require my undivided attention." He returned his hat to his head and turned on his heels towards the door. "It should be done in a couple months."
"Master Chief," Yamul said in a low, menacing voice that sent a chill through Milro worse than the cold outside could ever manage even if it was not directed at her.
Spigot hunched and turned around slowly. His eyes, which were typically small on a Beaver, were large and filled with terror. "I can't go to the Seed Kingdom." He pointed behind him. "They hate me down there! And after this they gotta be burning me in effigy!"
Milro had stayed silent through this, something she did all too easily in the presence of her mother. However, the difficulty of reconciling the friendly, rustic Seed Kingdom she remembered visiting with what Spigot said compelled her to speak. "I can't believe they're doing that, Master Chief."
"Yeah," Sophie piped up. "Everything down there is so soaked right now they'd be hard pressed to find much that would burn."
That's not what Milro meant.
Yamul sat up to take the ruffled sides of her blouse in her hands. "Then you should see this as an opportunity, Master Chief." She pulled down on her blouse to straighten it. "A chance to mend some broken bridges."
"But, Your—" Spigot started.
"You're going, Spigot," Yamul cut him off, "and that's final!"
Spigot let out some sounds that were meant to be the beginning of words. However, he stood up straight, saluted, and said "Yes, Your Majesty."
