Minul surveyed the room she’d picked for the meeting. Decorated in subdued winter colors, she’d had some of the furniture changed to better represent the theme, as well as remove as much emotional color from the room as possible. The richest color was the brown of the chairs they would be sitting on.

She’d spent a long time considering which sitting room to have this meeting in. Obviously, she couldn’t have in her apartments, no matter how much she would’ve preferred the removal of formality and stiffness common to nobility. The rumors inviting him into her private chambers, no matter that it was only a sitting room, would spread like a wildfire taking hold in the minds of her people.

She’d considered her audience chamber briefly, very briefly, as this was not the sort of discussion she could’ve had with an applicant or a supplicant. She needed honest talk, not submissiveness and servility.

Then they’d gone into the sitting rooms, she could’ve chosen a meeting room, but they were only two people for this meeting and it would likely end with her inviting him into her inner circle of advisors. Not business for a meeting room, in other words.

Sitting rooms were difficult. The palace had nearly forty of them, but since she only needed to sit three in total and a couple of servants, she was able to narrow it down quite a bit. Then she had to pick one with enough servants that no one, with the proper sources, could doubt any rumors leaving the room, but not so many that she couldn’t control the narrative.

After that came picking the right servants for the job. She needed at least one nosy maid, Asfrid would do the trick there. She was well able to fade into the background, while having a sharp ear and a love for gossip without an attraction to details.

Svalfi would manage their wines. While he wasn’t a huge gossip, he did talk with his friends in the stable, where she knew at least three spies for other nobles worked. While he would probably fail to understand much of the detail, he would manage to get it out somewhat specifically, after which one of the spies would direct their attention to him. That attention should make him embellish the story enough that some facts would be called into doubt.

She had a couple others in mind, some who could rely the narrative cleanly without messing it up. Placing them among the others would allow the knowledgeable to piece together the truth from their talk.

Suppressing a smirk, Minul strode over to her seat, of course noticeably larger than the other and set to waiting. Luckily, her appointment knew the virtue of punctuality and arrived well within an acceptable period of their agreement.

“Lord Serpent-Vein.” Queen Minul said, greeting the nobleman from her seat.

Leif Serpent-Vein paused for a moment, examining the room no doubt, before bowing to his Queen. “Your Majesty, it’s an honor to serve you.” As he straightened, she waved for him to take his seat. She saw his eyes linger first on Asfrid, narrowing before he sat. He didn’t visibly react when Svalfi poured his wine, though Minul was sure he recognized him.

She’d once been of a mind to dismiss Leif Serpent-Vein. He’d been mostly quiet as a Councilor. She’d thought he might not be easily swayed, but also not one to lead. After witnessing how he expertly turned a terrible situation into a victory, Minul couldn’t dismiss him that easily any longer.

What should’ve been another step of the public turning against the nobles and the academy, he’d managed to turn into an ongoing campaign for peaceable relations with the common folk of Elusria, and a small but stout base of fans within the academy itself.

If not for the act of him playing politics with the future of Elusria, she might’ve had to congratulate him.

“My Lord, I’m sure you’re aware of why I’ve summoned you.” Leif nodded. “I’ve taken some time to consider your proposal, and I’ve found it… palatable.” Serpent-Vein raised a brow at her choice of words.

He was clearly playing for high stakes—the balance of the country—but he was competent and she had no doubt in her mind he realized what he was doing. Working so closely with the Masters and the Lords, she had no doubt most of their members didn’t know what was going on most of the time, let alone why they were doing as they were.

“That is…” Leif paused, probably choosing a word he found disrespectful without insulting her. “Unsurprising.”

Minul didn’t react as her prediction fell through, instead she leaned a little further forward in her chair. He was willing to be a team player, to take the hit when called for. Or at least, that was what he was trying to tell her. Whether it was true, or not, was yet to be shown.

“You will be expected to work closely with both Ragnar, Pashar, Hildrid, and Arfast, as we begin your transition. Of course, I will require your resignation from the Lord’s Council, inked and sealed before I leave this room, if you truly wish to do this job.”

Leif nodded. “That is as expected.” He brows drew down for a moment, before flattening out again. “How much… draw will I have from you, when entering this transition.”

“As little as you need.”

He ran his tongue over his front teeth, visibly denting his upper lip as he considered her choice of words.

“And what about the events, that opened this opportunity? Have you taken any consideration as to how they could’ve happened?” Leif asked.

“We’ve taken a look at the circumstances and it definitely wasn’t a coincidence. Too many telling injuries. We believe it might have something to do with the recent ‘infestation’.” She made her ‘infestation’ clear by mimicking Inaaya’s tone of voice, something the servants in the room likely wouldn’t recognize, as she’d kept Inaaya as contained as she possibly could. Leif, however, would recognize her voice as he’d been in the audience chamber when the Princess had first arrived.

Leif grunted, leaning back in his seat. “That certainly was an auspicious coincidence.” He turned his gaze on her, for the first time he let her see the real him. Steely flint hid in his blue eyes, determination and anger to sat as welcome guest in the lenses to his soul. “I will need to sit with you later to talk over this specific ‘infestation’ and how it might affect my upcoming duties. I do not intent to fail, like those before me.”

Minul nodded. “Certainly, we will have many such conversations about your upcoming duties, both pressing and not. And, Leif, there is no room to fail. Their eyes are on us. If another such fiasco occurs, then we will not like the consequences.”

His mouth set in a grim line, understanding her words. Ankiria, and the rest of the United Alliance, ‘needed’ their tethered for the front lines. If they didn’t get them, then they would have to fix the supply line.

“I have taken the liberty of summoning Ragnar and Pashar to the palace. These are likely to be more open to your suggestions and should want to work directly with you. Are you familiar with them?”

“I know of Pashar, by all records a diligent and smart administrator. Ragnar is from my experience, as obstinate as any councilor, twice as realistic, grimmer than all of them combined, and maybe half the asshole.” He finished his sentence with a sip of wine, hiding the grin over his lips, if not the one in his eyes. Behind him, Svalfi snorted out a surprised laughter, nearly spilling his wine on the floor. He straightened red faced with embarrassed.

Minul’s lips thinned. That threw her calculations for a loop. If Svalfi was embarrassed to tell this part, it might either get an especially good response during the retelling, causing great embellishment, or he might try to skip it all together. If he skipped it, that shouldn’t hurt too bad. If he embellished the story he might make into worse than it really was.

Her eyes almost flicked to Asfrid, but she stopped them, instead drifting them to hover on her wine. She lifted the drink to scent it. Her mother had loved the stuff, so she tended to avoid it on most occasions. Doing the opposite of her mother was usually a good idea.

If things went well, then Asfrid would spread the gossip. Hopefully emphasizing the boy’s reaction, lending a degree of incredulity to the facts, as the story grew with each telling.

She wished she could’ve just invited the Gyrd and Herdis into the sitting room alone, but if she was with only two maids, both of whom were spies, then the information would become suspect. Especially, if both parties recognized the other maid as a spy.

Minul sipped the wine and smiled amiably. They continued their conversation, occasionally slipping into matters of business with Leif’s new position, but also just a bunch of inane commentary on the way of things, biding their time until their meeting was no longer considered abruptly ended, which was signaled by the announcement that Pashar and Ragnar had arrived.

Minul bid goodbye to Leif and left the room, before Pashar and Ragnar could reach it. Getting his contact signed and sealed.