MAEVE

"THIS MEETING never happened," Maeve told her date for tonight. Instead of her traditional navy blue coat, she wore a stunning crimson dress that was not too elegant to attract unwanted attention. She also put down her hair instead of tying it to a bun. No one would recognize her as the lady senator from Darsche.

"I won't tell a single soul." Across the table was a man in red vest and white longsleeved shirt. Renoux looked exactly the same way he did in the hallowed chamber of the Senate, just without his crimson coat and glistening merlion badge.

Between them was a circular table with a candle light and a vase of freshly picked red roses. Wine had been poured in their glasses and rare steak was about to be served by the waiter.

That's right. The republican Maeve was on a date with the monarchist Renoux. Not in a million years did the former think that this would happen. But it has to be done, she repeatedly told herself to justify this decision. Of all the available places, she chose the garden restaurant at the heart of the city. The meeting seemed too conspicious, but Maeve thought that no one would ever think a republican and a monarchist would go on a date together at night. It gave them the perfect camouflage.

"You wearing that red dress . . . is that your way to seduce me," Renoux asked with a smirk. "I rarely give genuine compliments, but you look good in red. Well, good is an understatement. You look ravishing. I suggest that you wear that color more often."

"I do like the color red." Maeve looked down on her outfit. Then she raised her head, looking straight at her smirking date. "But since the color has been associated with the monarchists, I began to loathe it. It automatically reminds me of your faction."

"Pity that a color had to be a casualty in politics." Her date clicked his tongue. "What if you cross the aisle and join our party so you'd be comfortable to wear red again? Blue doesn't suit you. It's so peaceful, so tame. Red makes you look scorching hot like fire."

"Thanks, but no thanks." She would rather die than turn her coat and change its color. Never in her lifetime would she support the monarchy again. "But I didn't call you here to talk about colors."

"Getting down to business, huh? I've been thinking why you lured me out in this garden restaurant. If there's anything that we need to discuss, we could have talked about it in the backroom of the chamber or rooftop of the Royal Library. You know, the traditional choices for clandestine meetings."

"I didn't want us to be spotted together. It's for your own good. And mine as well."

"Indeed. It won't look good if my partymates see me talking in length with the leader of the opposition. They might think that I'm a traitor. I wanna remain in the monarchist faction."

But the same could not be said about Maeve. The republicans knew that she was meeting Renoux tonight. She had their blessing. Even if one colleague of hers spotted them tonight, it would not cause too much of a problem.

"Renoux," she called his name softly, "what's more important to you? The Senate or the party?"

The monarchist furrowed his eyebrows. Looking amused, he leaned his back against the chair. "The party is the Senate since we control it. I don't see the point why I need to choose between the two."

"Alphonse has asked the Senate to give him dictatorial powers," Maeve decided to get straight to the point. Beating around the bush would lead their conversation to nowhere. "You know what that means? We're going to give up our legislative and oversight powers to him. That will render the Senate—the institution that we proudly represent—powerless until he returns the authority to us."

"Which is something that my party will support," Renoux added. "I don't see any reason why we shouldn't give His Majesty what he wants. Our loyalty is to the monarchy. And if the monarch wants something, we hand it to him. No questions asked."

"Isn't that blind obedience? A sort of behavior that we must not tolerate?" The conversation was not going her way. She needed to drive home a point. "I know that you will do whatever Alphonse asks of you. You would even lick his boots if he says so—"

"Hey, I won't stoop that low—"

"But you get the point, don't you? You're ready to give him anything that he wants," Maeve cut his words short. "As a republican, I oppose that mentality. But as a partisan, I understand why you have to manifest your loyalty to him. However, Alphonse was just crowned a few days ago. He has no experience in governing. We don't even know what kind of king he's going to be. Now you're planning to hand him powers that's more than what he can wield? Isn't that unreasonable?"

One end of Renoux's lips curved. "Did you call me here to convince me to not vote in favor of the proposal?"

"Given the circumstances, isn't that the right thing to do?" Maeve maintained eye contact with him. "He already has control over the Royal Army. If he wants to quell any form of chaos, he could give them the command. He can solve the problem with the resources that he currently possesses. There's no need for him to ask for more power—unchecked, if I may add."

Before her date could utter a word, the waiter went to their table and delivered the plates of steak. The rising between them died down instantly.

"Why don't we eat first?" Renoux gestured to the meal in front of them. "This conversation is making me hungry!"

Maeve grabbed the utensils and sliced the steak. Whether she managed to persuade her date or not, the jury was still out. Her objective tonight was to speak to the monarchist's conscience and knock some sense into him. There was little to no guarantee that it would happen, but Maeve was hoping that she could do it.

"Granting him dictatorial powers will speed things up," Renoux said before chumping on a slice. "You republicans don't have to worry about anything. It will only last for sixty days. After two months, we can legislate again. In the meantime, we can go on a vacation in the countryside. Life's too short to be so focused on work."

"A lot of stuff can happen in sixty days." Maeve wiped her lips cautiously. How she wished she could have Renoux's happy-go-lucky attitude. "He can make absurd laws that have little to nothing to do with the crisis. Should I remind you about Dickon the Dictator? You know what he did when the Senate granted him the same powers?"

"Of course! I know my history." Renoux chewed before swallowing the food in his mouth. "He purged the aristocrats and nobles who were secretly plotting against him. But don't be so ridiculous. Alphonse is not Dickon. I doubt that he can pull off something of that magnitude."

"Still, the powers you're planning to give him is immense, he can do anything he wants with it. And that's dangerous!"

"How he wields that power will be up to him. We must respect what he does with it."

Maeve put down her knife and fork, looked away, and heaved a deep sigh. The conversation was going nowhere. There was no hint that Renoux would even entertain the idea that she wanted to plant in his mind. Maybe this was a fool's errand. Maybe this was a mistake.

"If you're that desperate to not grant the king dictatorial powers, then I suggest that you focus on the special elections," her stubborn date said before drinking from his wine glass. "If you have the numbers, you don't have to worry about it passing the Senate, right?"

"We'll do our best to win more seats, but it may not be enough to block the passage of the proposal."

"So that's why you invited me here?" Renoux took a pause from slicing the meat. "You want a back-up plan just in case you fall short in the senatorial elections? What am I, your Plan B? What a foresight you have there!"

Maeve sighed, nodding. Lying would not do her any good. "I'm appealing to you as a fellow senator from Darsche and as someone who wants to preserve the institution that we represent."

Renoux chuckled. "Even if I magically decide to betray my partymates, my vote isn't enough to kill the motion. I'm just one person. Hypothetically, if there are twenty-three republicans and twenty-seven monarchists, my vote wouldn't make any difference. The motion will still pass."

"Now you're being modest." It was Maeve's turn to chuckle. She did not swallow her pride and invite a monarchist to a date just to solicit one vote. "We know that you're the leader of the young senators bloc in the monarchist faction. You have three more monarchists with you. They follow you like sheep. If you vote against the proposal, they'd also vote against it."

"You're giving me too much credit. I wish I have that sort of influence. Must be fun! But I have no control on how they vote. They have a mind of their own."

"Regardless, your opinion can sway them to our side. And our side stands for what is reasonable. Just this once, can't we agree on something? If this were just an ordinary monarchist agenda, I wouldn't have gone through lengths."

"But you have to convince me first." Renoux raised his wine glass before sipping from it. "Maybe something can be done."

"What is it?"

He rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward. "Perhaps if you'll spend the night with me, I might change my mind. Perhaps, we can have a detailed and more personal discussion about it. Perhaps you can convince me through action, not words."

Then there was silence at their table. Their eyes were locked into a staring contest—Maeve's deep blue eyes against Renoux' fiery red ones. Their conversation took a strange turn.

Maeve looked down, wiped her lips with cloth, and threw it to the tabletop.

"Forget about it." She got to her feet, dragging the chair behind her. "You can vote for the dictatorial powers for all I care. If something bad happens, you and your party will be at fault. I'm trying to warn you about the danger, but you won't listen. You're too stubborn, your head is far up Alphonse's arse."

"Hey, calm down!" Renoux held up his right hand. "I was kidding! So relax, okay? I wanted to see how far you're willing to go to convince me. I wanted to see if you're willing to do whatever it takes. You stood your ground. I must say, you've earned my respect."

Maeve remained standing. "If that respect isn't enough to convince you, then it means nothing to me."

"Go back to your seat, please! You're not yet done with your meal. You don't want to waste the mercs you're going to pay for that piece of meat."

She inhaled deeply before settling down again. If only it would not make matters worse, she would have slapped the man before her. The offer was disgusting. But she managed to control her temper.

"My party will kick me out if I vote with you," Renoux revealed. "I'd be called a turncoat. I'd be stripped of my committee membership. They'll support another candidate in Darsche once we're up for reelection. The risk is too much. There's little upside for me."

"Surely, you can convince them in one way or another? Tell them that the idea is unreasonable and dangerous. Tell them the Senate should not be subservient to a king, no matter how fanatic you all are."

"You think Victor will fall for that flimsy plea?" He snorted. "By the way, what will I get from helping you and your party? Just words of gratitude which will amount to nothing?"

"You're going to save the kingdom from a potential mismanagement of an inexperienced king. You shall have the unspoken gratitude of this great nation. Isn't that enough?"

"I prefer something concrete."

"I've got nothing to offer you."

"Hmmm . . ." Renoux looked up at the stars. "This is too much to process, you know? I can't and won't guarantee anything. But let me think about it. For now, let's enjoy our steak and wine."

That's progress, Maeve thought. An outright no would have been disappointing. Renoux's answer was better than a rejection.

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