On The Edge of a Blade

Favors

"Right." Anthony flipped the top paper on his pile over, taking a brief look at the next in line. "For the next order of business, we need to discuss immigration laws."

King Vincent sat back in his plush chair at the head of the table, looking over at his heir who had a place at his right hand. He wore a self-satisfied smile, clearly pleased at how his eldest son was handling the procedures of the meeting. Heading such an event was traditionally the king's responsibility, but he was the sort of father than would make any exception possible for the benefit of his favorite son.

The rest of the nobles and political thinkers in the room, on the other hand, wore contradictory frowns. Few were pleased that a sixteen year old, just recently crowned as the kingdom's official heir, was bearing such a role.

They were even more disgruntled when the king's other son stood up to speak.

"James, my son, you didn't inform me that you had ideas on this topic." Vincent looked down the table to where James sat, lines of warning wrinkling his face.

The younger prince cleared his throat. "Not just ideas. A full plan of reform."

With as much precision as possible, he described his prescribed changes to the council, making certain that everyone understood the benefits he foresaw. To his satisfaction, some men and women at the table openly nodded, though it was impossible to discern whether they were humoring him or genuinely in concurrence. King Vincent, as expected, was deeply unappreciative of everything he said.

"So, to conclude, we can't prevent every person from getting past our borders illegally. But we can encourage a better system by inviting skilled immigrants to go through a process that will simultaneously meet their interests and our own. They will become citizens, and the kingdom will have more valuable human resources available." James set down the parchment he had been holding for the past twenty minutes. He hadn't looked down at it once, just caused the ink to be smudged even more than before thanks to clammy hands.

For a moment, the room was quiet. He hadn't been anxious while he was sharing, but now that his words were no longer driving the conversation, James could feel his heart rate increasing. Just as he'd trained his own face to give away little of his thoughts, most of the men and women in this room were similarly inscrutable.

Surprisingly enough, it was an elderly woman who broke the silence. "I've seen many things in my life," Lady Hobb intoned assuredly, "but rarely have I encountered solutions to real problems." For one so old, her mind and gaze both possessed an edge like a freshly sharpened sword. "I, for one, agree with Prince James' proposition."

In spite of King Vincent's disgruntlement, others around the room began expressing their agreement as well. James was slightly surprised at the ally he had found in Lady Hobb, but it was easy to suspect that she had her own intentions in taking his side. Decisions in this room were rarely made out of need or justice, but rather due to each members' unsquashable sense of self-interest. Even he was trying to gain something out of this, although his agenda was somewhat more honorable than the rest.

James sat down and listened mindlessly as the room briefly debated the pros and cons of his plan. He once met Anthony's gaze, and thought that maybe he saw a bit of pride upon his brother's face. If not that, then it might have been surprise that his twin had actually managed to eloquently deliver a worthwhile concept. At odds as he was with his twin brother, James thought nothing of the insubstantial exchange.

"Right." Vincent stood at the first lull in voices. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your time. The meeting is adjourned." And, before everyone began to disperse: "Come speak with me for a moment, James."

The prince snatched up his notes and made his way to the end of the table immediately. Whatever his father had to say, it was better to let him get it off his chest in the presence of other people. That was the only way to ensure his words remained manageable. "Yes, Father?"

"Let me see that." He took the parchment from his son's hand and roved his eyes across it. "Your handwriting is atrocious. Did you write this with your left hand?"

James tilted his chin up in a show of strength and defiance. "Yes."

"You know that you aren't supposed to do that. Right hand, remember?" Vincent frowned forcefully, looking for a moment longer before giving up. He could hardly read it, let alone glean any ulterior motives from it. "Next time you wish to speak up in Council," he said, relinquishing the paper's possession back to James, "inform me of it first. It doesn't do to have you speaking unchecked."

That order didn't sit well with James, but he nodded despite his misgivings. "Understood."

"It better be, or else you may as well excuse yourself from the meetings altogether." The king turned away, smoothly transitioning to another conversation with one of the present nobles.

He knew he was dismissed, but it was difficult to find motion when anger had been ignited in his marrow. James's face twitched as he contained a scowl, his hand crushing the information that created the success that had already cost him so much.

The vexation of being slighted was lessened almost immediately after exiting the room. "You did a good thing, James," Maddox murmured, falling into step with him as they walked down the hall.

"Well, it's been an issue in the kingdom." He made a show of letting the praise roll off his back, though it was obvious that some smug satisfaction infected the way that he carried himself. "This just happens to be my first and last act as an active member of the Council. Father might not even allow me in the meetings anymore."

Maddox smiled. "At least you know that you made more friends than enemies today. The people will know that you made this change possible."

"Well, tell them to express their thanks in the form of favors," James responded, only slightly joking.

"That, too, isn't a bad idea." The royal steward looked down the hallway thoughtfully. "Though you must understand that those who are truly grateful don't deal in favors."

James refrained from glancing over his shoulder in disdain. "Too bad that's all I've ever been taught. For all I know, despite the fact that we made no deal, Lady Hobb might seek me out soon to demand a favor in return for her support."

"She's old enough. If those were her intentions, then there's always a chance that she'll forget them." Maddox nudged James's arm, sharing his covert humor with the prince. "But, truly. People will seek you out soon enough to express their gratitude. Just you wait."

For all of the doubt James felt, that promise indeed came true. A few months after the verdict passed, he made the acquaintance of Oliver Dix and his legal wife, Marcola Lee. And, despite Maddox's guidance, he was successfully promised a favor for his troubles.