Chapter 12 Don’t Cry over Spilled Tea

❄Snow❄

Snow had caught wind of an important meeting. Three bigshot Mountaineer lords were summoned to negotiate a crucial deal her mother was trying to make. Snow did not know the details of the deal or if it was related to the Old District incident, but she wanted to find out. That’s how she ended up quietly tiptoeing towards the castle tearoom. She heard the quick footsteps of two people around the corner behind her and hid behind a pillar. When the sets of footsteps passed by, she saw it was her mother, walking with Brutus.

“Your highness, I am strongly advising you to reconsider; they will not budge under twenty percent. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked for half.”

“I don’t care, twenty percent is the most they will get; I don’t need them getting any fatter at the cost of the country’s stability.”

“I am afraid you underestimate their greed.”

“I am aware of their greed, Brutus; they wouldn’t own a third of the Republic’s wealth without being swindling devils.”

As they continued past, Snow popped out from behind the pillar and began following them. Surely enough, her mother and Brutus entered the tearoom, where an assortment of guards seemed to be waiting. If the meeting was in the tearoom, she would be able to listen from the servant’s door on the opposite side since that hall was absent of guards.

Luckily, she knew the servant’s passage well from her convenient uses of it, the tight and darkened hallway was fitted in between most of the first floor gathering rooms. The narrow hall contained stairs to the living chambers and had access to the kitchen. Even though one might live in the castle, if you have never been here, you wouldn’t know which door goes where. After some navigating, she arrived at the door she assumed was the tearoom. Reinforced by the fact there was a sitting tea cart right next to it. Snow cracked open the door and with one eye, looked in.

“Good day gentlemen. I hope the trip here wasn’t too much trouble.” Her mother greeted, seated at a round table skirted by a white cloth. Brutus had escorted in three high nobles that stood opposite of her, each of them wore garb of a different bright color. The first was a young man with blond, curly hair, garnishing a vivid blue coat; opposite him was an elder man, the oldest of the among them, in an eye-catching yellow dress robe; and finally, appearing to be the leader of the three, in between them stood a portly man with slicked black hair in a pristine red suit that highlighted his ‘impressive’ figure.

“We are used to the trips, just like old times. There are some things that letters won’t suffice for.” The old man replied.

The group paraded up to the table and Brutus began to seat them, revealing their status.

“Lord Vimistral.” Brutus pulled out the chair on the left for the eldest Lord in yellow. “Thank you, sir.” The old man thanked him as he took his seat.

“Lord Laurheelius.” Brutus pulled out the chair on the right for the youngest Lord in blue. “Appreciate it, Brutus.” He nodded, to which Brutus nodded back.

“Lord Jirminshawl.” Brutus pulled out the middle chair for the last of the three. Lord Jirminshawl, the lord in red, took his seat without acknowledging Brutus’ presence at all. After all three were seated, the High Queen opened up the negotiations.

“I have summoned you three to offer a deal, a deal that requires an immense amount of money but will yield an even larger return in the long run.”

“Let’s cut straight to the chase then. If you need all three of us to fund this, I fear just what it might be.” Lord Jirminshawl sounded skeptical about the deal already.

“I wish to start a labor guild, using the old mage guild’s property. As well as build an entirely new district in the Mountaineer Kingdom.”

“That old Dust den? And what land do you intend on using? The east stone fields are uninhabitable, and the north is blocked by mountains. The only place possible would be the west.” Lord Vimistral questioned.

“Correct. The west border of the kingdom: its leveled, partially connected to the previous guild’s property and it can act as a second major entrance to the kingdom-a large trade benefit.”

“How much would you have us contribute? How much will you stake us?” Lord Jirminshawl asked, unflinching in the face of the implications of such a large undertaking and only concerned with business aspects. He raised his empty teacup while his eyes stayed on the Queen’s and Brutus walked by to refill it.

“I will need 200,000 gold and will put up fifteen percent as the stakes.”

Jirminshawl laughed in disbelief.

“Surely you jest, your majesty.”

“I do not.” Her mom’s sentence was given greater weight by the look on her face. Jirminshawl paused for a moment, and then downed the whole cup of tea. He only spoke after lifting his cup for another refill.

“Do you know how many years it would take to result a profit at five percent each? That isn’t worth in the slightest. Not to mention the numerous problems that will arise from bypassing the Council with your authority.”

“I do not intend on bypassing the Council.”

“You will allow it to go through them? Why? You can just decree it done.”

“You have influence in the Council do you not? It should be easy for the likes of you three. I would rather not strong arm this guild into existence: its goal is to be reputable and build trust; bypassing the Council will only isolate the district and guild from society.”

“I do have connections and favors I can call on regarding the Council, as well as various ladies of ‘high repute.’ I can pull a few votes.” Lord Laurheelius spoke out.

“The Council will not agree to dropping the kingdom’s wall for the length of time needed for a project like this. It will take a lot more than a few ‘Favors’ to ensure this follows through the normal way. The exact location of this area you describe, is just below the noble’s district, am I correct?

“Yes” She eyed him, as if she knew where he was going with this line of inquiry.

“I believe with combined efforts; we may sway the positions of the council. Do you agree Lord Laurheelius?” Lord Vimistral picked up on the heightened skepticism and sought the opinion of Laurheelius.

“Agreed, A new district will bring forth plenty of opportunity and I have the ear of the necessary ladies that can fondle into fruition votes for myself. So yes, I agree.”

Lord Jirminshawl looked back and forth between his two colleagues and shook his head.

“Let’s cascade some light upon this project. My Lords, this new district her majesty wants your gold to fund is intended to house all the ex-servants: it will be a district of slaves; built by slaves, for slaves. Do you think the nobles want to be next door to such a place? Not to mention that guild property was recently shut down for being a Dust den. Officials will assail the very idea of such a plan.”

His words startled the other two lords.

“I see Jirminshawl.” Lord Vimistral spoke after a moment of consideration.

“So that’s the kicker.” Laurheelius smiled in understanding.

“Do not forget it was my warden who discovered the illegal dealings of that guild. I had it closed down; I ended the Dust epidemic that plagued your kingdom. That guild was bold in its operation, killing its students with overdoses and pushing out dust to whoever had the means to pay. The nobles knew and yet had no complaints whatsoever even when the rampant surge of crime plagued the streets. I wonder why? Maybe it was because half of them were on Dust themselves or participated in selling it. You are suggesting that repurposing that structure for a guild intended on growing the kingdom’s economy will be an issue? I am talking about business that will benefit all here. Those nobles cooped up in their little territory will swallow it as surely as swans in a pond who are thrown bread.” Her mother stated, a subtle undercurrent in her tone was the only sign that his comments had upset her.

“Your majesty, I don’t personally take issue with this deal, I’m just explaining the difficulty in all this. As silly as you consider them, they have weight in the Council and WILL vote ‘No.’ It certainly doesn’t help that a lot of them maintain dislike for the Regalian monarchy for retaliatory actions taken after the Great War.” He said, as if to placate her anger.

“I guess a King is a King no matter how much of a tyrant he is. That man would rather sacrifice his kingdom than his crown. I did them a favor.” She leaned back and took a rather aggressive sip of her tea. The sound of the ceramic cup ringing off the ceramic plate echoed as she put the cup back down forcefully. “So, what would you have then?” She asked as she stared him down.

“Fifteen percent is a pitiable amount. No, for something of this magnitude I would say… forty-five percent.”

The High Queen scoffed.

“That’s just under half stake of the whole guild. Impossible.”

The meeting went on for gods knows how long as Lord Jirminshawl and her mother went back and forth explaining what’s more profitable, more expensive, more complicated, more this, more that. This business meeting was putting Snow to sleep.

Her mom tapped her fingers on the table as the conversation paused. She looked toward Brutus who was refilling her tea. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye with an expression that clearly said: ‘I told you so.’

“One or two sugars?” He asked her.

“Two.”

These vestige lords were unmoving, just like her mother. Snow smirked at the irony. Brutus went to refill Jirminshawl’s cup for about the eighth time before the tea pot ran empty. Brutus began heading towards the servant’s door to grab another. Snow saw him heading her way and hid behind the cart that was beside her. The tearoom door fully opened as Brutus exited. He had a quickened pace and went in the opposite direction before entering the nearby kitchen that was a few doors down.

“Speaking of public opinion, the unsettling news of Jarles Windram being given asylum here is another issue...” Snow heard the mention of Windram and returned to the door.

“…Word has begun reaching the common folk of that beast wrangler setting his war beasts loose on Mountaineer citizens who were peacefully protesting here last month. A lot of high lords have learned of the protection you are giving him.” Lord Jirminshawl explained.

They must have been talking about when Mr. Windram saved her. Those people weren’t peaceful at all?! They attacked her!

“Are those cakes done yet?!” She heard Brutus’s voice from the kitchen behind her, followed by the sound of rattling plates.

“Yes sir, the cart outside is already prepared.” A maid replied.

They must have been talking about the cart that was right next to her. She needed to leave, but they were talking about Windram. Snow opened the cart doors and saw an empty space, to which she hid in. A door was heard opening as footsteps approached the cart. The sweet smell of freshly baked strawberry cakes slipped into the cracks of the cart doors. Soon enough, the cart rattled as the sound of plates being set on it were heard before movement was felt. A bump was felt into what she assumed was the tearoom door as more of the conversation could be heard much more clearly.

“Windram has done no such thing. Some arsonists sought to light up the old district which unfortunately caused numerous fatalities. There is no proof of war beasts being released or existing for the matter.”

“Then why haven’t the carcasses been shown to the public?”

“Most bodies were unrecognizable due to the fire and were immediately cremated as a preventative measure against disease outbreaks.”

The scraping of fork upon ceramic filled the background before a long pause, until Jirminshawl’s voice was heard again.

“Let’s just say the accusations cannot be proven, keeping his asylum here a secret is now public knowledge. This has angered many of the lesser lords. He was supposed to face trial for his war crimes. Until he conveniently disappeared, that is.”

“Most of the claims of those war crimes have been proven false.”

“Your majesty, I think you misunderstand us. We care not of the sanctuary nor transgressions of Jarles Windram, but the tolerance of the public is delicate concerning him. Since they blame most shortcomings from the ending of the war. Perhaps we can come down to thirty-five if you hand that beast keeper over to the kingdom for trial. It will buy more trust from the Mountaineers, which will make passing the legislation much easier.”

Give Mr. Windram to the Mountaineer Kingdom? There was no way her mother would do that. If there was one thing about her mother, it was that she wouldn’t give up an ally for personal gain.

“So, if I give Windram over to you, you will fund 200,000 gold collectively, and in exchange will agree to thirty-five percent take of all revenue generated by the guild, as well as assisting with passing the legislation with the Wall. Is that the proposal?”

Give Mr. Windram up? Snow couldn’t believe her mother was even considering going through with this! Mr. Windram saved her! A moment ago, her mom was defending him and now she was about to give him up! She had to do something; she couldn’t let Randal’s dad be sent to an execution!

“That’s the lowest we can go. What do you think gentlemen? I must inquire your assessments.” Lord Jirminshawl shifted to his fellow lords.

“I expected far less but you bring up many good points Lord Jirminshawl, as well as getting us quite the better deal. I am impressed and agree with your counsel.” The elder Lord Vimistral agreed.

“I agree with Vimistral, also do not forget the bounty on the beast keeper. That will net some return for us as well.” Lord Laurheelius concurred. Jirminshawl turned back to the queen.

“Yes, that is the deal. Thirty-five percent stake, as well as the arrest and assisted extradition of Jarles Windram to the Mountaineer Kingdom. Do we have deal?” She heard the movement of a chair-Jirminshawl must have gotten up to shake hands with her mother.

Snow flung open the cart doors and rolled out, startling everyone in the room. They all stared as she stood up.

“Mom, you can’t give up Mr. Windram!” Snow shouted.

“Snow, what are you doing? We are conducting business right now. Please return to your room.” Her Mother eyed her, the look on her face promising punishment.

“Negotiating with Windram’s life? How could you even think about that after he saved me and Gravis!”

Jirminshawl perked up at those words.

“Save? I knew the rumors couldn’t be all lies. Windram did release those beasts upon Mountaineer citizens. He still maintains war beasts to this day?” Sir Jirminshawl questioned in surprise.

“He didn’t! Well…” Snow saw the look in her mother’s eyes grow more severe and her voice trailed off as her courage flagged. But then she remembered the horrors she and Gravis had befell that day. If Windram was punished for saving her…she would never forgive herself, nor would Randal and his mom. She squeezed her fist as she found her courage again. “…those people deserved it! They tried to kill me and Gravis, they attacked us! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Snow, that’s enough!” Her mother’s voice rose for the first time.

“So, this is the infamous black sheep, quite the temperament.” The youngest lord laughed, flipping his curly hair back.

“Laurheelius this isn’t a joke. If we support this and the nobles find out Windram still maintains war beasts, the council will never let us hear the end of it. Our influential reach would be severed. Dropping the wall will be an impossibility. All because the child can’t keep her mouth shut.”

“Don’t call me a child!” Snow shouted.

“You are a child, are you not? A very naïve one at that. Your mother has done a lot to have us come all the way out here, yet you speak as if your words have no consequence. You best listen to her, there is a lot of gold on the line here and I didn’t come all this way to have my business impeded by a child. Especially the royal undesirable.” He turned to her mother. “Your majesty, I mean you no offense, but I feel my bold words are warranted at the moment. As you and I both know the impacts of this deal and how the murmurs of your family can destroy it.”

“None taken, you are correct Lord Jirminshawl. She is a troublemaker who is over emotional right now. She will leave and no longer spout these lies. Snow, leave. Right. Now.” Snow looked at her mother in disbelief. She couldn’t believe her mother agreed with these outsiders. Against her.

“I won’t! You want to kill Mr. Windram for his bounty. I won’t let you! I’ll tell the whole Kingdom what really happened to Gravis and I. In fact, I’ll tell them that ‘I’ ordered the Royal Guard to indiscriminately kill Mountaineer citizens.”

Jirminshawl looked her up and down, a dark glint forming in his eyes.

“How much do you value Windram’s life, Princess Snow?”

“Lord Jirminshawl, please just ignore what she says, she will be escorted out now.” Her mother waved at Brutus who moved to grab her arm and began dragging her away.

“His life is worth more than yours, you oversized cherry!” She shouted, struggling against brutus’ grasp.

“Is it? Hold on Butler don’t escort her out just yet. Perhaps a business lesson for the young Snow Regalia.”

Brutus stopped, Jirminshawl looked directly at her as a calculated smile appeared on his face before offering her mother a new deal.

“Your majesty, how about we adjust our deal? Instead of the agreed upon thirty-five percent. I will accept just twenty instead. Which will be split between my two fellows here-I will take nothing.”

“Jirminshawl, are you serious right now?! You’re going to give close to seventy-thousand gold for nothing?!” Laurheelius stood up, shocked.

“I feel like this lesson in business would be very beneficial for Young Snow Reggalia. And lessons like that are priceless.”

Snow looked at her mother who was just as surprised as the two other lords. The look in her mother’s eyes. She knew that look, had seen it on her face when she looked at her sometimes. She had seen it again in the eyes of the mercenaries who had attacked her and her sister. They were eyes void of any emotion. Eyes that were cold and heartless.

“You have a de-“

Snow broke free from Brutus’s grasp. She took hold of the hot tea pot, jumped up and smashed it on Jirminshawl’s head. The hot tea bursted out drenching him and burning his face as he stumbled back against the table, his whole head turned bright red.

“Ahh! You heathen!” Jirminshawl, the lord of lard yelled, as the hot tea poured down his face and sunk through his clothes.

“How was that lesson huh! Go ahead and have your fill now fat cherry!” Brutus fully grabbed her this time, restraining her through her tantrum. As the cries of Jirminshawl filled the tearoom.