The Mechanical Crown

The city on the hills

Entering a door in one of the towers, she descended the spiral staircase and emerged into the corridors that ran the length of the private floor. A maid appeared as if by magic from a side door, immediately occupying herself with busily assessing Kirya's clothes, hair and face. Kirya tolerated it, knowing that a single out of place fold in her dress would immediately become the talk of the court for days to come. Sometimes such distractions would be deliberately arranged, but not today.

There were other, less obvious entrances to the throne room than the huge metal doors. It wouldn't do for her to arrive like a commoner begging for a scrap of attention. Instead, she used a door at the side of the room, out of sight in the darker recesses which afforded her the opportunity to assess the situation before those in attendance could judge her in return. She immediately recognised the voice of the self-styled mining baron Theodus Lief, a perennial thorn in her father's side and a man not to underestimate. The royal family had the palace on the hills and the authority to rule, but there were other families and power structures which had carved out their own portions of Lagonia. The king's role was to hold it all together in as peaceable a manner as possible - the valley was not going to get any larger, so there was no way to vent the pressure of the rival powers, meaning that it was cooperation or civil war. Such was the introverted history of Lagonia, a kingdom with a history entirely of its own.

Baron Lief was the worst of the lot. Scheming, bold and uncowed by the royal prerogative, he knew that he wielded influence through his associations with the mining guilds and never hesitated to remind everyone of such. He mostly kept to his territory in the north, with his infrequent appearances in the capital usually heralding political tensions of one sort or another. His weakness was women - not in the usual manner, but due to his rumoured obsession with his late mother. She was said to have been the brains and the brawn of the family and Lief still lived in her ghostly shadow, always more timid in the presence of women than men. Kirya was used to being summoned whenever Lief was attending court, to act as a smothering blanket for his hot bluster.

She approached from behind Lief, catching her father's eye. He sat upon the throne, leaning wearily on one arm, while Lief stood below the dais, clad in the odd mixture of ornamental and functional clothing that was favoured by the leaders of the elite mining guilds.

"I do not feel the request to be to great," Lief was saying. "It is only a small diversion to siphon power from the south and pass it to the Northring. The greater throughput would enable us to double our efforts. In the long run, the city would be the greatest beneficiary."

King Guijus snorted. "To the detriment of the farmers in the south. The valley is not your sole playground, Baron."

Lief stamped his foot like a child. "I talk not of playgrounds," he said, raising his voice, "but of factories!"

"You forget yourself, Baron," the king returned, straightening his posture.

"I forget nothing - send me the fuel and I'll build you a fleet of airships like nothing the world has ever seen. More powerful than the Barrier storms - capable of wiping an entire town from the face of the planet."

Guijus smiled. "And against whom would you use these airships? We have no enemies, no external threats."

Lief took a step backwards. "We must always be cautious of threats from within, my king."

Taking the opportunity to make her presence known, Kirya flowed into the court, touching a hand briefly to Lief's shoulder - he actually flinched - before taking her seat beside her father. "Our subjects are loyal, are they not, Baron Lief?"

He was flustered, suddenly unsure of himself, and clearly angry at her arrival but unable to either express or effectively hide the emotion. "Then use them for exchange, or travel. They would be fast, sturdy."

"We are already satisfied with the airships provided by Thistle and Twine," Kirya said. "There have never been finer vessels."

Lief's face turned red. "Thistle and Twine are plagiarists! They are thieves!"

Guijus got to his feet, standing tall in front of the throne, his weariness suddenly gone. "Baron Lief, command yourself to sense," he said. "To make such accusations in the royal court is tantamount to slander. I am well aware of your feud with your competitors but that sort of ugly competition has no place to be spoken in this palace, or before my daughter."

Many years ago Lief had worked for the Thistle and Twine company, before setting out on his own. He'd long since claimed to anyone who would listen that all their innovations had come from his own ideas. There was a bitterness to the man which Kirya found deeply distasteful.

"I have one question for you," the king intoned. "Can your vessels traverse the mountain ring and pass through the storms?"

There was a silence in the court, as the servants and Lief's entourage paused in anticipation, awaiting an answer. It was the question that came up whenever new airship technology was announced.

Sighing, Lief spread his arms out wide in a resigned gesture. "It is difficult to say without real field tests, but my models do not anticipate that to be likely."

"Then you bring me nothing of substance," the king decided. "Your request is denied. You may revisit this topic twelve months from now and not before."

Opening his mouth as if to retort, Lief then glanced towards Kirya and reconsidered, instead bowing lightly and reluctantly, then turning with an angry flourish and striding towards the main doors. They were opened with careful timing, the steward pulling a lever which triggered the mechanism, prompting the doors to open and fold in on themselves, allowing Lief and his hangers-on to exit without breaking step.

Slowly, tediously, the doors swung shut and reformed their shape once again with a deep rumbling boom which echoed through the hall. Guijus took a step backwards and slumped back down into the throne, raising a hand to his forehead.

"That man," he said, "does nothing for my constitution."

Kirya leaned over and took his hand. "You handled him well, father," she said encouragingly. These days, her father needed all the support he could get. "Lief's a bully, and an ingrate, but he's all talk."

The king harrumphed and placed his other hand on hers. "Yes, I suppose you are correct. If only everyone was as wise as you, my dear. Now, where is your mother?"

Kirya shrugged, then got to her feet. "I've not seen her since breakfast. I think she had business outside the grounds. Pienya went with her."

"I'm sure she did," the king said quietly. "Ah well, business as usual, then." He waved a signal to the steward, who swung open the doors once again and announced the next arrival.

Kirya departed swiftly from the court, exiting through one of the side doors. She'd be back in there that afternoon, dealing with minor details, feuds and offers that were deemed unworthy of the king's attention. There would be the inevitable suitors from noble families, each of which she would have to reject in such a way that they would not lose face. That was her role: it was the one she played, and she would follow it to its conclusion. That was how her life worked, how it had always worked since her earliest memories. One day she would be queen and everything would change - she'd be sat upon the throne, rather than beside it.

Time pulled her slowly towards that dusty, predictable destiny. Those born in the valley lived in the valley and died in the valley. Nothing could change that.