Tarkaan Kariin, Premier Minister of Trade for his Eminence, the Tisroc, may he live forever, stood behind the intricately carved screen and glowered.

The cause of his abominable temper was seated quite gracefully in the room on the other side of the screen. Normally Kariin would never have wasted time glaring at woman whom even he- with his high standards and egotism- had to admit was, apparently, flawless. No, normally he would have better spent that time leading her gently but firmly to his bed, where he could better acquaint himself with the flaws he knew were certainly hiding somewhere about her person. But this was not a normal situation. This was not a normal woman, and Kariin could not imagine that his master the Tisroc, may he live forever, would be anything less than outraged if his Minister of Trade tried to lead this woman to his bed.

Because this woman, curse her- her and her pale skin, her red-gold hair, her calm expression- was Queen of the barbarian Narnia, and the Tisroc did not take kindly to his ministers bedding the monarchs of neighboring kingdoms, no matter how backwards those neighboring kingdoms might be.

Not to mention, of course, the fact that the as-yet-unmarried Tisroc, may he live forever, rather fancied trying to bed the Narnian queen himself, if Kariin was any judge of such things.

Still scowling darkly, he shifted to get a better view of the Narnian Swanwhite. She was breathtaking by any standard, slender and graceful and young, and there was an air of confidence hanging about her that only added to her allure. The harsh Calormene sun flooded in from the room's many windows, highlighting the gold in her hair and flooding her grey eyes with color. He let himself imagine for a moment how that hair would look in soft candlelight…

Snapping himself back to the task at hand, Kariin reminded himself of his duty. He was the Tisroc's Minister of Trade, and as such he was to go into that room with that paragon of womanhood and… trade.

His scowl deepened at the thought. When the Tisroc had informed him of the imminent trading conference with the barbaric kingdom of the North, Kiriin had assumed Narnia would be sending an ambassador. What he had received was their queen, youthful and prepared to perform the needed trade negotiations that would allow her merchants to transport their goods into Calormen without paying the ruinous import taxes in which the Tisroc, always a fool when it came to fiscal policy, so delighted. Kiriin had been rather looking forward to attempting to create a Calormene monopoly on spices and pistachios.

He seriously doubted that any of this would occur now, though, now that he was forced to work with this… this… woman.

And, on that matter, was the Narnian contingent truly so trusting as to leave their unmarried, heirless queen alone in a palace full of not-quite enemies? He could see no guard and yet surely, surely, they would not be so stupid? Why, he could slip out from behind this screen in a second's time and slit her throat without her so much as knowing of his existence. If she were so simple as to believe that friendly words assured honorable conduct, getting the needed trade stipulations would be child's play.

Feeling slightly better at the thought of bleeding Narnia's economy dry during the course of this 'negotiation', Kariin surreptitiously straightened his robes and prepared to step out from behind the screen, pushing all thoughts of red-golden hair spread against silk sheets from his mind. At the concealed door, carved so as to blend in with the rest of the screen, he paused for a moment, giving Queen Swanwhite one last longing look. She was oblivious to his pending arrival, a fact that greatly pleased the Minister of Trade. He had found over the years that his sudden, unexpected entrance lent him a great advantage in even the trickiest of negotiations.

The door creaked almost imperceptibly under his light touch and he smiled, knowing that the queen had heard nothing.

The smile faded quickly when a sinuous black shape slunk out of one shadowed corner to stand by the queen's chair.

Kariin was no coward. He had served honorably in the former Tisroc's army before becoming a minister and had killed his share of men. He had faced the Tisroc's wrath more than any (living) man, and was no stranger to the wild beasts that flourished in the desert.

He was, however, not a fool, and so he could not help his heart from racing when he spied the great black jaguar that had just stopped at the side of Queen Swanwhite's chair. From the foreign queen he expected a scream, a shout, perhaps even a fit. What he did not expect was for the barbarian queen to incline her head towards the beast, an intent look on her face.

Kariin blanched before remembering the rumor that this young queen often traveled with a guard comprised exclusively of black jaguars. It was a rumor that he had put down to ignorance and mere fancy… until this. Some Narnian beasts had the power of speech, he knew, but to see such a one in his council room… well, it strained credulity.

When Queen Swanwhite looked up from what he could only suppose to be a conference with the beast and stared directly at his hiding place, Kariin knew the time had come- and was actually rather past- to reveal himself. He pushed the door open and stepped into the room reluctantly, knowing that his advantage was lost.

"Queen Swanwhite," he murmured, sweeping a low bow and trying not to think about the fact that this movement bared the back of his neck to the queen's beast, "I am Tarkaan Kiriin, Premier Minister of Trade to his Eminence the Tisroc, may he live forever."

"My Lord Kiriin."

Her voice was quiet, firm, cool. Its sound drew his eyes from the floor to rest firmly on hers and, once the queen knew that she had his full attention, she smiled.

Her smile made his legs weak and his hands tremble, not merely with desire but also with a new emotion: panic. There was no warmth in that smile, no gentleness. With one smile, Queen Swanwhite of Narnia had revealed herself.

She sat on the simple chair as though it were a throne. At her side was the black jaguar, its golden eyes fixed on Kiriin. With her beauty and her confidence and her smile, she was like a goddess revealed, cool and calculating and absolutely unwilling to lose any ground in this battle of words.

Feeling more like a supplicant than a minister in the face of this disturbing revelation, Kariin swallowed his apprehensions and reminded himself of his duties. He was the Premier Minister of Trade and, even if this queen was his match in intelligence and political maneuvering, he still had a task to perform. Sighing and avoiding the jaguar's gaze, he approached the table at one end of the room and gestured expansively. "Queen Swanwhite, if your Majesty is ready, we may begin."

Her smile warmed slightly and she nodded. "I would like to first address the Tisroc's recent outrageous increase in import duties…"