Page 13 of The Princess's Chosen

"Then I assume his profits for the harvest will be rich and he'll be able to afford the repairs himself."

Jonathon Roderick cleared his throat, sitting up higher in his seat and smirking at me. "Princess, you're misinterpreting the…nature of the council's role and our position over the people."

"Gentleman, I doubt very much that many have taken the time to do any interpretation as to your roles and positions, and if they had, the north and much of the kingdom south of here might be in considerably better condition."

"She is impertinent, isn't she, Your Majesty?" Lord Roderick asked, chuckling to my grandmother at my side, his teeth bared in a tight smile.

I tensed in my seat, ready to dive back into the argument, heat spiking in my cheeks at being spoken over, but my grandmother's hand grazed against my skirt under the table.

"Impertinent, Roderick? Be wiser with your tongue. Bryony is ambitious in her goals, but she is also your future queen," my grandmother said, and her severity seemed to have the same effect on the older man as it did on me. "And she's not wrong about that budget. I went over it myself."

None of the men across from us at the long table seemed prepared to argue with my grandmother. At least not outrightly.

"Of course, if there is a good harvest, there would be no need for Sir Edge to take assistance. But farming is a delicate business and—"

"It might be left to the farmers," I said, gaining Lord Roderick's flashing glare before he remembered to correct himself.

Wendell sat quietly to my left, silent through the discussion, occasionally nudging me long enough to catch my attention and direct it towards heads bowed and whispering. He was largely responsible for the budget we had arranged, with my grandmother's help and some from Rebecca Sanders, who sat to the left of him. It was a thorough and careful balance of what the people might be expected to spare, with the absolute civic necessities that needed attention for the winter. Grandmother had arranged a refilling of the northern royal coffers so that we could continue to keep the palace running outside of the people's pockets, but it left the local nobility nearly cut off from financial aid.

"This cannot be a permanent state," Lord Roderick said firmly.

"Kimmery cannot flourish if its citizens are kept pinned beneath a boot of poverty," I snapped back. "What taxes can be taken from empty pockets?"

"Homes, property, possessions, bodies into labor camps and the army," Wendell answered softly.

"It stops now," I said, my eyes fixing from one man to the next.

They weren'tallglaring back at me. Some looked genuinely shamed, and early in the introductions, I'd heard a man admit that he hadn't bothered coming to a council meeting in over a decade. There was a measure of ignorance to blame in the way things had gone. That and the fact that there hadn't been a will as strong as Lord Roderick's at the table in what I suspected was a very long time.

"Did you call this meeting to negotiate reasonably or to stomp your foot and make demands?" Lord Roderick said, drawing out a few chuckles, several of which sounded nervous.

"This is your second warning, Lord Roderick," my grandmother said lowly. "There won't be a third."

"Your Majesty," he started.

"Don'tcajoleme. Your position,allof your positions, are granted to you by the crown so that you might lessen our burden. They were not given to you as reward, but as responsibility," Grandmother said.

"Your nobility are your people too, just remember that in the next quarter when you look at your taxes. There is a correct flow to the kingdom's wealth, and you are perverting it," Roderick said coldly. "You will see the trouble it causes before the winter is up. The people must be kept in their place, just as we must."

"People deserve to eat, to keep their homes. I am not offering them yours," I said.

All down the length of the table, men shuddered and looked aghast. Was that really what they were afraid of? Or was that just some of Roderick's poison?

"So be it, Your Highness," Roderick growled.

* * *

"I have concerns, Bryony,"Grandmother said, watching the last carriage take its leave down the long road that led to the palace.

"About the decisions made today?" I asked, taking some of her weight as we turned on the steps and moved back inside.

"About their repercussions. There's some truth to Roderick's threats. A network of angered nobility will be a powerful tool against you, especially if all you win is a beaten-down collection of citizens."

I thought of the energy of the festival, of the creativity of the vendors, the wealth of generosity of the cooks, and the wild abandon of the dancing.

"They've been mistreated and there's a lot of work to be done, but I think we've underestimated the common people for too long," I said.

Grandmother hummed. "Rebellion can come from many directions."

---