The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Ruling

The queen gave Lark another hug before she returned to the dais and reseated herself beside the king, who had most likely not moved all this time, given his condition. Her Black Sword retainer took up a symmetrical stance across from the king's. The royal siblings still idled on the floor while the aides milled about a minute longer.

Acumen leaned towards Lark's ear, and a moment later her head snapped around wearing an incredulous frown. What was he up to now? Able strained his ears and watched the second prince's lips. "I'm just saying it's too much territory for one magistrate—look what it did to Gent! You don't want to end up like him."

"That is not remotely the reason that all went like that." Lark seemed scornful. Acumen must have suggested that either the king would not grant the territory or that Lark had better hope so.

Acumen shrugged, unconcerned. Was he really unconcerned, though? Did he just wander through court life trying things and never worrying about the consequences?

But right now the king had passed a sheaf of papers back to his Minister of Foreign Affairs and began, "I could draw this out, but the situation in Borealund is fraught and requires immediate action. Plaudit's claim proposes nothing unprecedented in and of itself, nor it the issue that the territory itself is largely unexplored and mapped unprecedented in granting principalities. On that note, though, I won't agree to handling territory boundaries the way my great grandfather did for Pushal."

There was a pause while Lark glanced around as if unsure that she was supposed to be the one to answer. "You object to the claim that the far north cannot be settled?"

"It's true the shifting sands and shores of Pushal could not be settled—but we knew there was an ocean around that and where it ended."

"There is an ocean, but the ice is so thick you'd be da—" Lark caught herself and finished more calmly, "you wouldn't know which you were standing on."

"So you say, but even if there's little chance of a proper surveying expedition succeeding and enlightening us, you and I will work out an agreement about your territory limits so you do not simply have indefinite borders in the event they do succeed."

Again Lark glanced around, not quite settled into the idea that this was her decision. "Yes, sir."

Darkshoal had thought this prospect of ore beneath the ice would entice the any emperor and talked the rest into this gamble. It wasn't that Able disagreed, exactly, but being in such a hurry to secure the treaty could very well lock future Borealunders from benefiting from riches that were, at the moment, rightfully theirs. He glanced at Chessie's impassive face. Perhaps the metals beneath the earth just weren't as important to them as the plants growing above it.

Lark cautiously raised her eyebrows. "You'll agree to the terms of reappraisal, though?"

Impetus just about shrugged. "Well, I have little choice but to grant hardship claims given the state of things, so yes."

Flower Hawking heaved too loud a sigh of relief, but Able couldn't blame her. The deforestation would halt and resume under Lark's purview. As far as the Borealunders were concerned, they had gotten everything they had come here for. And it was not escaping Impetus's notice.

"However," he continued with a disapproving glance at them, "it is unprecedented that a territory be granted to...someone like you. Princes of Larbantry are raised at court. We know who they are and what they are capable of. Now, I accept that you're my missing son, child of my fair wife's body, so this is your right sooner or later. I have chosen to grant it sooner, but I am only granting it with the caveat that I will be choosing your councilors and ministers to hold you accountable and prevent another failure of governance in Borealund."

Lark started with alarm but gathered herself to snort with derision. "How do you expect to find out who I am and what I am capable of if you're going to interfere before I even get started? Whoever heard of a magistrate that didn't select their own council?"

"Who do you know and want to work with that isn't a Bor?" The king raised one eyebrow.

Lark had no response to that other than a hard exhale.

"My selections will ensure that you are under no illusions as to the objectives and principles of this country," Impetus continued firmly. "You will relearn who you are, and what your purpose and duties are, and you can start by cutting off that unsightly tangle of hair."

Lark's eyes widened, but she then brushed this off with a chortle. "You're betting you still have a soldier in your force large and strong enough to hold me down?"

"That won't be necessary," the king replied with an unmoved expression. "Because you are now a grown man and will prove to us that you can comport yourself like one."

Lark's grin faded, and she glanced at Chessie and Flower Hawking with a plea in her eyes that neither of them understood.

Able understood but could do nothing useful besides closing his own floodgates. He should have trusted Lark's instincts, perhaps, over his own. Or perhaps nothing either of them could have done. Despite the churning rush of rage and grief that flooded through him, his gates held. He did not so much as flinch.

And Lark's held too, as she closed her eyes and bowed her head. "My king."

Satisfied, Impetus nodded once. "I find your cooperation reassuring, and it bolsters my hopes that the transition period will be stable."

"But I am the magistrate, and this territory is my purview." Lark pointed at the floor for emphasis as she made her stand here, her eyes taking on a hardness Able had seen only once before and had hoped to never see again.

"Yes, that is now the case." The king allowed himself the smallest quirk of a smile. "Do us all a favor and keep that title for the rest of your days."

"I will," Lark promised.