Chapter 21: Her Promotion

When work ended, I decided to escort Jasmine to dinner. She sat and ate at the table with a fake smile as she petted me absentmindedly. The princess did not notice Prince Ali's blatant sulking but I did.

I had no pity for him. He had been a complete menace today and Jasmine still had not recovered from their fight. I hated that he had so much power over her moods. It was a struggle not to snarl at him from where I sat watching.

The fool was just so irresponsible and clueless. He had no idea what Jasmine was struggling with. No idea how lucky he was to have such a vibrant and incredible woman in his life. To him, Jasmine was some sort of playmate, but she was so much more than that and if he could not understand that, he would never deserve her company, let alone her hand in marriage.

Throughout dinner, I resisted the urge to harass Prince Ali because unlike him, I knew my place tonight. I was here to guard Jasmine from unwanted company. She had enough on her plate without annoying courtiers further souring her mood.

After dinner, Jasmine and I both went off to bed. I laid in my rooms, exhausted and worried.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how right Jasmine was. She did need more help. The two of us just weren't enough to deal with all these problems. Eventually, we would need to assemble a team and start delegating more. But finding enough competent and trustworthy people that the princess could work with…that was a tall order and would take time to think through.

I sighed.

Time. Again, I ran into that problem. And I knew even if I found a good team, I'd still have to sell the idea to Jasmine.

I sighed again.

It was hard to talk to Jasmine when she was this stressed or distracted. On a day like today, I was lucky if she understood half of what I said. It was a small miracle that she had grasped my surprise wedding idea earlier this week and that was before things had gotten truly terrible. Right now, the likelihood of me being able to convey a complex idea like a new government structure was near zero.

Jasmine just wasn't up for it. She'd looked so horrible tonight. I couldn't help but remember the last time the kingdom had been in pieces and she'd been placed in the middle of it.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the unhappy memories. I needed to get to sleep. Even with our limited communication, Jasmine would need me in the morning.

I would like to say that Princess Jasmine earned her first court position on merit and pluck alone. However, the reality was much messier.

The crisis began with my disappearance. When I was found missing on Jasmine's 11th birthday, there had been an uproar. Rumors went wild as weeks passed and no one found any sign of me. Once they determined, I hadn't left the city, people started talking about me being dead.

I had wanted to shout that I wasn't dead. I had wanted to tell them that I was a tiger and I was right here. Of course, I could say nothing.

After several months, the men who threw me off the palace cliffs were discovered. They were arrested for their crime. During their trial, they confessed to the kidnapping, my murder, and finally, they revealed who had paid them: Grand Vizier Rikisha.

Many were surprised but I wasn't. Rikisha and I had never gotten along. I was a man, a foreigner and according to Agrabah tradition, I was set to replace the sultana's position as the head of foreign policy when Jasmine married me which meant at the very least, I would unseat Rikisha as the ultimate power in that division.

However, Rikisha and I both knew I would do more than that. I had planned to fire her as soon as I got into power. She was a talented grand vizier, but there was no way I could trust her. She was far too power-hungry.

Rikisha was a smart woman. She had probably guessed my plans. Killing me had been a means to buy some time to woo the sultan before Jasmine's next betrothed arrived.

After Rikisha was put under suspicion, there had been a trial. Rikisha had denied everything as the evidence stacked up against her. She pleaded her innocence all the way up to the guillotine.

When she had died, the foreign policy division was left without a grand vizier. After a lot of squabbling, Qaabil from the domestic policy division was chosen to fill the position. The foreign policy viziers did not take the decision well. There had been a mass exodus from the division ranks.

With over half the division gone, the little princess thought it the perfect time to offer her services. She applied to the positions in foreign policy, listing her qualifications like any other applicant. And she kept applying and receiving rejections as the division her mother had cultivated fell to pieces.

Eventually, the princess appealed to her father and when that didn't work, she went to Qaabil. Both told her to mind her own business. The princess had been out of options when a knock sounded on her door one afternoon.

Jasmine who had been pacing stopped and stared at the door. I stood up and looked at it too. The princess rarely had visitors to her rooms.

"Who is it?" Jasmine called.

"Grand Vizier Jafar, my princess."

The princess and I exchanged a look.

"May I come in?" Jafar asked.

I shook my head at her. I found the man unsettling.

She frowned at me.

My shoulders slumped and I gave in with a nod. I knew she was right. We had to let the man in. I went to stand by her so we could face the vizier together.

"Come in," she said.

Grand Vizier Jafar swung the door open. For just a moment, his dark presence seemed to seep into the pretty pastel room before I blinked and saw that nothing was amiss. Jafar looked the same as usual. He held his snake staff and Iago was perched on his shoulder.

I watched as Jafar's and Iago's eyes roamed over the stuffed animals and the pink and purple hangings. This was before Jasmine had redecorated. Back then, she'd had a very cute looking room. I believe the sultana had designed it especially for her, so Iago's judgmental sneer put me on edge.

"How can I help you, Grand Vizier?" Jasmine said trying to sound brave.

Jafar focused on the princess. "Princess Jasmine," he intoned. "I assume you are aware of the dire straits this kingdom is in."

"I am," Jasmine said shortly.

The man went and explained it to her anyway. Jasmine and I listened. Jafar gave more details than either of us had heard before.

The complaints and eventual mass exodus had not just been about Qaabil being inexperienced and from the wrong division. Nor was it just because he was the first man to enter the female division in over a decade. No. The real issue had been about loyalty and prejudice.

Qaabil was one of the few Agrabah-born nobles with any foreign policy expertise. The majority of the foreign policy viziers were well…foreigners, as was the tradition. Most of them had been immigrants from Shehrabad bought over by the sultana, like Grand Vizier Rikisha and that was the problem.

"The sultan in his wisdom has decided to only trust those loyal to the throne for such an esteemed position as Grand Vizier," Jafar explained. "Qaabil is nothing, if not loyal. And thus, our government has been purged of those who might do us harm. It was an inspired decision. However, that has left us...understaffed."

I stared up at the grand vizier trying to ignore my growing headache. Something was bothering me.

"But what exactly do you need me for?" Jasmine asked interrupting my thoughts. "You're the domestic policy grand vizier, not the foreign policy one. Are you recruiting me to domestic policy so some of your men can transfer over to the other division?"

"No, princess. I am here because of all the people left in this palace, you are the most qualified to run the foreign policy's trade department."

I blinked. What?

Jafar continued talking through our stunned silence. "Your knowledge and expertise in tariff optimization is well-known. You are fluent in Shebali. You have worked closely with foreign policy upper management for the last couple of years. And unlike most of the people left in the division, you have some intelligence."

Whatever effect that praise was supposed to have was ruined by the grand vizier leaning in and leering at the princess.

I growled softly.

Jasmine put a hand on my head and said, "I am glad you think so highly of my abilities, but father and Qaabil would never allow me to-"

"They will," he said easily, "because I am prepared to sponsor your promotion, personally."

"Oh!" Jasmine's eyes grew wide. "That's-" she began, but he cut her off again.

"Understand, princess, I do not make this offer lightly. Agrabah is in need of funds and our tariff system is in another language and possibly encrypted. If we are to avoid a recession, you will need to show results by the end of March."

Jasmine paled. Jafar wanted Jasmine to prevent a kingdom-wide recession by decoding the Shebali tariff system, the product of some of the best Shebali minds of our generation and he wanted her to do it in less than three months.

"I am trusting you with this, princess," he said. "There is no one else."

I looked up into the seemingly ageless face of the grand vizier. His eyes were intense. Even Iago was looking surprisingly grave. He had been silent this whole time. This was serious.

I glanced at Jasmine. Despite her sickly hue, she seemed determined. After a moment she lifted her chin and said, "I understand. I will do my best."

"I expect no less." The man held out his bony gnarled hand. His ruby ring glinted in the light.

I watched as Jasmine shook Jafar's hand. I felt my stomach twist.

Iago smiled as Jafar said, "Your father's study has been prepared for you. Congratulations on your promotion, princess." And with that, the man dropped the little princess's hand and swept out of the room. We watched as the door fell shut. The sound was louder than it should have been.

Jasmine looked at me and tried to appear happy. "I did it, Rajah. I finally joined the foreign policy division and I am the head of a department. Isn't that something?"

I just looked at her. I could almost see the cracks in her smile.

"We should go see the study," she said.

I followed her out of her rooms to the sultan's study and then the work began.

I will never forget what came next. Jasmine practically lived in that study for the next few months as she fought to unravel and revamp the highly complex and slowly degrading Shehrabad-based tariff system. The princess stayed up too late working, burst into tears at random intervals, and struggled to meet an impossible deadline to save her kingdom.

The court had mocked her. Her father had tried to discourage her. Qaabil had his own problems elsewhere and Jafar had just seemed to watch from the sidelines like a vulture. Jasmine only had me and the few remaining viziers in the trade department for help. And honestly, it had really just been me.

And I did do my best to help. I was able to assist her in identifying the other languages used in the records ranging from Mujulaai to ancient Hindi to even Takandan. I was always there to listen to her letters of inquiry, help her deal with annoying visitors, and do whatever else I could, but in the end, it had mostly been Jasmine.

By the time March arrived, the princess had solved the great puzzle of spreadsheets, foreign records, code words, statistics, and predictive mathematical formulas that dozens of great minds had crafted and reworked over the last decade. With the tariff system once again functional, the Agrabah government had been able to ensure it was taxing goods and collecting funds appropriately again before people noticed the change in prices.

At age 11, Princess Jasmine prevented an economic crisis. She accomplished more in three months than some rulers did in their entire reign. It was then that I recognized Jasmine for the amazing person she was and to this day, there are few people that I respect more.

And yet I knew for how incredible she was, she was in over her head now. Because Jasmine wasn't solving a complicated decade-long math problem and it wasn't just the economy that was in trouble. The princess was dealing with the entire Agrabah government system and all the people and problems that came with it. It was too much for one person and we both knew it.

A/N: Merci d'avoir lu, mes lecteurs français.