Page 13 of Learning to Rule

“Thank you,” I acknowledge and make my way into my father’s room.

“Dalton, how can I help you? I don’t have long. I have a lot of paperwork to get through after being out all morning.” My father doesn’t look up from his desk, his focus remaining firmly on the papers in front of him. “Is this about the American woman?”

I grind my teeth together, to prevent myself from saying anything about his lack of respect for Elodie.

“No, I thought Elodie did really well today. I’ve already had a lot of positive comments sent my way by the members of parliament.”

My father snorts in a derogative manner. “Shame she saw fit to talk through most of the ceremony with that awful Woodrow woman. I think it might be best if you keep them apart. Given half the chance, Hannah Woodrow would have Janastria become a republic and her precious husband made emperor. Mind you, we all know who’d really be in charge if that happened. Awful woman.”

“I’m sure Elodie was only being polite. I chanced a couple of glances at her, and every time I did, I saw her watching events very intently,” I huff back.

I happen to think Hannah and Clement Woodrow work really well together. They are a formidable partnership that could achieve great things for this country—if only they could break through all the bureaucracy of a parliament that’s intent on maintaining the old ways.

“We’ll see where her loyalties lie soon. After all, the Americans were traitors to the British. She has no loyalty to anything royal.”

“I don’t think Elodie was involved in that revolution. It was a long time ago and not a part of Janastrian history. Plus, there are always two sides to the story. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about Elodie. Hinchbootie gave me a number of letters on my return—many had not been opened.” I place all the letters down on my father’s desk except for the few that had already been opened. “I’m disappointed that Felix hasn’t dealt with these. They seem to me to be of vital importance.”

My father looks briefly toward the letters and gives a sigh of annoyance.

“For fuck’s sake, I told him to burn them.”

My mouth falls open with incredulity. “You did what?” I shake my head, knowing I need to remain calm, “Your Majesty, with all due respect, did you read any of these letters? They are from the people of our country. They are suffering, and you told Felix to destroy them!”

My father finally looks up from his paperwork. He shakes his head at me.

“Stupid boy, this is why you still have a lot to learn about being king. Those letters are from ungrateful subjects. They want to have what we have—well, they can’t. They should be appreciative of what they already have, not moan about wanting more. They need to shut up, keep working, and pay their taxes so I can continue living the life of luxury I was born to enjoy.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing from my father. I slam my hand down on the desk over the papers.

“How can you say that? There’s a letter here from a man stating he can’t feed his children because his taxes are too high. His children are starving, and he’s relying on handouts from his neighbors and local charities. How can you say he needs to pay his taxes and shut up?”

“Because thatiswhat he needs to do.” My father snatches up the letters from the desk, and gripping them tightly in his hands as he stands, he shakes them at me. “These are all fake news. They are false in every aspect and are from people who wrongly believe they deserve better.”

He strides purposefully toward the fireplace in his room—it’s dancing with the flames of a roaring inferno. Before I can stop him, my father throws the letters into the orange blaze. They sizzle and crackle as they burn to nothing.

“You have more important things to think about than unwarranted correspondence from ignorant people. If you want that woman to pass the tests I set her, then you need to make sure she’s better prepared, given her display of disrespect to me today. She’ll be attending another very important event tomorrow.” My father stomps toward me, cracking his knuckles with menace.

“What?” I question, fearing his answer.

“Your mother has her monthly ladies’ charity luncheon tomorrow. Miss Nash will be assisting her instead of the queen’s usual lady-in-waiting.”

My heart sinks. My mother is a drunkard and is useless at organizing anything. For a good number of years, her senior lady-in-waiting has run the whole event to ensure that no one knows my mother is completely inept. Elodie won’t have a clue what she’s doing. It’s going to be a complete and utter disaster.

“That isn’t fair. At least allow the lady-in-waiting to help?” I plead.

“No,” my father barks back. “You want her to prove herself, then this will be the perfect opportunity.”

I know I need to get out of the room quickly because my temper in on the verge of exploding. I don’t say another word to my father. I bow unceremoniously and storm out through the door, leaving it wide open.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial Hinchbootie. He answers after one ring.

“Fetch my mother’s senior lady-in-waiting, the one who manages her monthly ladies’ charity luncheon, and bring her to my rooms immediately. We’ve got a lot of work to do.” My tone doesn’t leave Hinchbootie with any choice but to do as I instruct.

“I feared this.” His despondent tone comes down the phone. “I’ll get her at once, sir. I’ll be ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” I reply, this time a little less angrily. I’d be lost without Hinchbootie. He’s doing all he can to help Elodie. “I also suggest you bring a caffeine shot for Elodie. I think she’s going to need it.”

Seven

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