Eker stared wearily at the retreating bulk of the Terevansian ambassador, then leaned to his right and whispered to the old man seated there:

"Did that guy just try to sell his fourteen-year-old daughter to me?"

Councilor Chinchalla cleared his throat and waited for the doors to close behind the subject of the question before whispering back, so subtly that the guards on the other side of the room must have clearly heard him.

"I believe he was impressing upon you the mutual benefits of having a Terevansian consort of noble birth."

"Which is to say," clarified Eker dryly, "that Terevansia will invade us if I refuse."

To his left, Councilor Amster cleared his throat as well, with more gusto than his rival.

"Nothing so extreme, Your Majesty," he crooned. "But he is prepared for retaliation if we do not accommodate him."

"Why is there a need for retaliation in the first place?"

There was no throat clearing this time, only awkward feet shuffling all around their small table. Eker narrowed his eyes at each of the Councilors.

"What did you do?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing, Your Majesty," said Chinchalla, studiously avoiding looking at him. "There just seemed to be some misgivings regarding the requirements placed on royal candidates ahead of the competition."

It was Tersi's turn to clear his throat, so forcefully that he nearly choked.

"Your Majesty," he croaked, "what Councilor Chinchalla wishes to avoid saying out loud is that candidates must be Kessi born and raised, and some of the ambassadors did not appreciate our intention of strengthening our inner bonds."

"But why?" cried Eker. "Three of the last four queens were foreigners, including Essar's mother!"

"That may be so," said Chinchalla, "but the next one will not be. It has been decided."

Eker stared at them with barefaced surprise.

"It truly is a miracle," he said slowly, "when all of you can agree on something. However, I do wish you'd have told me of this in advance."

Random coughing fits erupted around the table until Eker cleared his own throat and the noise ceased at once.

"Where's Jebril?"

They froze, and it was all Eker could do not to smirk. He knew that was a pointless question, given the man's current state, but he couldn't help himself. In Jebril's absence, the mere utterance of his name inspired acute fear in friend and foe alike, a power which seemed to transcend even Mogara's realm.

"It's just that it's too quiet without him," complained the King. "We're all so much better behaved when he's around."

"Your Majesty," began Amster, somewhat tentatively, "was he not sent off on a diplomatic errand at your behest?"

Eker blinked at the man, but didn't take the time to consider whether he believed his own words.

"If he was," he replied, "I wasn't informed of it. As seems to be the norm around here. Yes?"

One of the guards had stepped forward hesitantly.

"There is another audience petitioner-"

"Is it the Iskarian ambassador?" interrupted Eker, dreading the confirmation and receiving it nonetheless. He sighed. "Show him in."

What followed was almost half an hour filled with so many veiled platitudes, that the royal head started pounding and Eker briefly considered smashing it against the table to relieve some of the pressure. Nothing could be made clear with these people, and Eker abhorred obfuscation. Why did it take them so long to say what they actually wanted, but only implicitly, so that the other person had to guess at their meaning and then reply accordingly? If Hanadan hadn't briefed him on the situation with their main foreign ambassadors, he would have been thoroughly lost in the discussion.

What he gathered was that Terevansia and Iskaria were not fond of each other, and with the ladder's military decline came the former's budding desire for expansion. Naturally, Kassi would play a significant role in that endeavor, should it ever come to it, but if Eker did such a poor job that he managed to annoy both embassies, there was no way his country could survive a unified attack of its neighbors. Of course, the Councilors had considered all this and made the extremely wise decision of excluding foreign candidates in their selection for his queen, so half of the work was already done.

While the Iskarian ambassador prattled on about the historic achievements of his people, Eker studied each of the present Councilors currently making his life ever so difficult. He knew that a proper Inner Council should have an odd number of members, and so far that requirement was met. But three were not enough, and more input was definitely needed in matters of governing. Jebril was the fourth Councilor - now deceased - and the fifth one had also expired some while back during the reign of Eker's father. Needless to say, that drunken idiot hadn't seen to his replacement, and so Eker had inherited a dysfunctional administration, where bitter rivals were constantly at each other's throats instead of looking out for the people they were supposed to be serving.

"I assure you, Ambassador," said Eker automatically when the man was finally taking his leave, "we look forward to our continued and prosperous cooperation."

The Iskarian bowed and shuffled out of the chamber. As the doors closed behind him, Eker leaned - this time to the left - and inquired of Amster:

"Does this guy have a daughter too?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied the Councilor.

"And if I take the Terevansian one as a concubine, I'm also obliged to take the Iskarian?"

"Precisely, Your Majesty."

Eker nodded thoughtfully and chose not to reveal his intention of taking neither. He would have to live with a queen because that was unavoidable, but he'd be damned if he allowed more women to creep into his life again when he was having so much trouble getting rid of his father's "acquirements".

"While we're on the subject- '' began Chinchalla, but Eker put his hands up immediately.

"Oh, no," he said. "You're not getting me mixed up in this. You've made it plenty clear this is the court's decision, and that is how it will remain."

They shuffled around for a bit, but eventually settled in irritated silence. Eker knew they all had vested interests in the Queen selection process, since they'd ruled out foreign interference and had settled on an internal fight amongst themselves. He didn't particularly care which one of them won, because he knew he'd have to balance the situation out anyway, and not by taking more concubines. He gritted his teeth at the mere thought.

"If there are no more petitioners, then we beg your dismissal, Your Majesty."

Eker brought himself back to the present moment to find his Councilors on the verge of leaving, hopeful looks in their eyes.

"You mean the audience window's over?" he asked, genuinely curious because he hadn't been keeping track of the time.

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Tersi patiently. He was half crouched above his seat, no doubt aching to stand up and leave. 

But Eker wasn't done with them yet.

"Well, that's wonderful!" he cried, clapping his hands and glancing at them expectantly. "I haven't forgotten," he added cheerfully. "Have you?"

They all clearly wanted to groan, but somehow managed to stop themselves and sit back down with agonized expressions.

"Now, I'll start." Turning a beaming smile towards Councilor Amster, he relished the shudder that went through the older man's ruddy countenance. "I am truly grateful for the way you handled the reconstruction of the sunken harbor. The ship companies were pleased with the efforts to retrieve their cargo and the locals appreciated your workers' discretion. So thank you."

Of course, Eker knew the man had also used this opportunity to line his own pockets by withholding some of that cargo and employing one of his associates for the construction work. Perhaps it was that fact, along with the suspicion of the King's knowledge, that made the blood rise higher into Amster's face. Eker could tell he was aching for an uncomfortable throat clearing, but he resisted the urge and turned towards Tersi instead.

"You...your new suit is excellently tailored, Councilor." He paused in uncertainty, casting a furtive glance at Eker, who nodded encouragingly. Amster continued in a wobbly voice, eyes glued to the center of the table. "You are a model of dignified elegance to us all."

Tersi's answering smile was clearly forced, probably because he was wearing the same suit he had used in court for years, and felt his colleague's jab at his old-fashioned persona. Not wasting a beat, he inclined his head at Chinchalla, which made the ladder begin to tremble, albeit almost imperceptibly.

"I am grateful for the way you have seen to your daughter's upbringing, Councilor. My own daughter returned yesterday with the conviction that she has found a virtuous and faithful friend in her, and I look forward to hearing even more good news of their growing attachment."

Oh, dear. As Chinchalla's eyes widened to an alarming degree, Eker found his lips trembling with the effort of containing his laughter. Even after all these weeks, he still hadn't gotten Tersi's measure, and never knew what to expect from the man. If things kept going at this pace, all the Councilors would soon be complimenting each other's wives by the end of the next meeting.

"Yes, thank you," replied Chinchalla, who, if given the choice, would have rather had the floor swallow him whole than continue staying in this room. Turning back towards Eker, he bowed as deeply as he could without slumping against the table. "Your Majesty," he began in a choked voice, "I - and I'm sure I speak for my colleagues as well - am incredibly thankful for the thought you have put into our «compliments session». We truly appreciate your care and compassion for making this a better workplace."

There was the slightest hint of a question at the end of his declaration, but Eker merely nodded, smiling indulgently. Hanadan had cackled and wouldn't stop laughing when he'd explained his intention of making the Councilors share "happy thoughts", but the King very much believed in this method's eventual positive results, even though things looked rather bleak at the moment. Perhaps Eker would finally get the hang of saying things without actually speaking them out loud.

"And I appreciate the flower arrangement you had sent to my mother for her birthday. She wrote to me asking to thank you specifically."

The other two cast incredulous glances at Chinchalla, who had the common sense to blush. He inclined his head silently at the King, then turned to his right to look at Tersi.

"Your facial hair styling is truly remarkable. I must kindly ask for a recommendation to your barber."

"Of course, Councilor. It would be my pleasure."

Eker blinked in disbelief. Could they all truly be that childish? While Chinchalla sported thick tufts of grizzled hair both on his head and on his jaw, Tersi was bald, and his beard barely qualified as a bristle. Eker made a note of asking Hanadan what exactly Tersi was doing that the others were so reluctant to mention, instead prompting them to focus on his less than stellar appearance as if they were all resentful boys in their first year at the Academy.

"I thank you for the invitation to tonight's tea party at your estate, Councilor. I am looking forward to reuniting with my friends from my days in the military."

"But, you see them every day," sputtered Amster, avoiding looking at Chinchalla, who had clearly not been invited.

"It is different at work," replied Tersi. "Certain restrictions are placed upon us and we may not do as we would normally please. Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"

Eker nodded, meeting Tersi's gaze without flinching. Despite not being overtly hostile, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was so much that was still hidden from him.

"Of course," said Eker, striving for calmness. "Though I couldn't say how many of those restrictions are placed by ourselves. That is what I wish to remedy."

"A noble intention," agreed Tersi.

"Yes, indeed," said Amster, whose most ardent wish at the moment must have been ending the King's charade. "And I am thankful to our considerate King, and his continued willingness to cooperate with this administrative body. Most young men his age would allow themselves far more indulgences, and we must be grateful for his sacrifice."

"Most young men do not carry such responsibilities," said Eker. "Which is a decidedly good thing, since they deserve to enjoy their youth, as I enjoy spending time with you. Isn't this nice? I'll insist on it after every meeting."

"You must, Your Majesty," said Tersi. "I feel myself cruelly denied because the seating arrangement didn't allow me to pay you a compliment today."

Eker chuckled.

"There is no need to wait for an excuse to compliment me, Councilor. I assure you, I am not that modest." Casting a glance at all the table's occupants, he smiled brightly. "And I look forward to having Jebril back, so we can hear his kind words as well."

The Councilors muttered their grudging acquiescence under their breaths as they stood up. After bowing deeply, they filed slowly out of the room, leaving Eker to stare silently at the closing doors.

He shouldn't have felt this happy about a man's death, particularly a friend's father, but the circumstances were far from normal. Taking a deep breath, he stood up as well and considered going into hiding for the rest of the day. If he could govern without ever showing his face, he would have done it without hesitation.

Alas, he had to own up to his shortcomings, chief among those being the stubbornness to remain alive and in relative power. And despite the mounting odds against him, he had every intention of continuing to defy them for as long as possible.