Chapter Three

Violet thought Ari seemed regretful when she took her leave of him, but she forced her thoughts away from him and toward the task at hand. By the time the various attendees arrived, Violet was settled in a seat in the small audience chamber, next to the place set aside for Basil.

She'd expected Basil to be last, knowing he had another meeting beforehand, but he surprised her by slipping in next to her as the first of the guild members arrived.

"Violet," he greeted her.

She nodded at him, noticing as she did so that Wren was taking the seat on his other side. Violet bit her lip.

"Is it a good idea for Wren to be here?"

"Of course," said Basil calmly. "Wren is my wife and our kingdom's queen. Her presence will always be appropriate in discussing matters of import to our state."

Violet gave him a look, not bothering to call out his intentional misunderstanding of her question. She didn't try to talk him out of his view, as she knew there would be no point. Basil was inflexible in regard to his wife. She applauded his attitude for the most part, but she hoped it wouldn't serve them badly in the negotiations to come. Basil was the best of brothers and clearly an excellent husband, but not known for his tact.

"How bad do you think it's going to get?" he asked her in an undertone.

Violet sighed as she watched a group of men file into the room, one particular merchant at their head.

"Pretty bad," she said frankly. "Ulrich doesn't look happy."

Basil's eyes followed hers, and he calmly regarded the man entering the room. Ulrich was the head of Entolia's wealthiest merchant family, and ran the Merchants' Guild both in name and in practice. He was incredibly influential among the other merchants, and he wasn't happy with the sovereign at present. To put it mildly.

"I'm glad he's brought his son," Basil murmured, his eyes on the young man beside Ulrich. "The younger generation can sometimes be more reasonable."

Another pang of sharp emotion went through Violet at the sight of the young man. Where was the detachment she so desperately needed now? But she kept her many thoughts to herself, giving only a non-committal grunt. She'd had much more interaction with the pair than Basil, and while she had no reason to ascribe any malicious intent to the younger man, she doubted he would see eye to eye with Basil. In her experience, the members of the Merchants' Guild were interested in profit, not in the broader well-being of the kingdom. That was the king's job, after all.

"What's his son's name again?" Basil asked.

"Yannick," she said, just as the men took their seats. The name tasted sour in her mouth, and she sternly told herself to stop being dramatic.

Basil stood, and everyone else did the same. He waved them down with a casual hand.

"Welcome, and thank you all for attending," he said. "I anticipate fruitful discussion today. I'm ready to hear your grievances, and I have information to share with you as well. I trust with open communication, we can reach a satisfactory resolution to our impasse."

"Indeed, Your Majesty?" said Ulrich, his tone of respect so forced it was painful. "Are we to understand then that you've given orders for the Mistran merchants to cease trading in Tola immediately?"

Violet wanted to scowl at the older man. She'd watched Basil take this kind of disrespect from men of generations above ever since he was crowned at eighteen. And he took it with excellent grace. But it never failed to infuriate her. Still, she followed his lead and held her peace.

"You know I have not, Ulrich," said Basil calmly, taking his seat. "And I don't have any intention of doing anything so absolute. But that doesn't mean we can't put safeguards in place to protect the interests of our Entolian merchants."

"Ours are the only interests you should be protecting, Your Majesty," cut in another merchant, as irate as Ulrich. "You have no obligation to the Mistrans—and you've allowed them to take over our markets!"

"They've done nothing of the kind," said Basil patiently. "And it's not accurate to say there is no obligation to Mistra, as I know you're aware."

"We have the records to prove how significantly our trade has suffered since you gave the Mistrans open access to Entolian markets," contradicted Ulrich. "We never agreed to any alliance. Your choice of wife is costing us our livelihood, Your Majesty."

Basil rose to his feet, the movement slow and controlled, but every line of his lean frame radiating authority. Begrudgingly, everyone else stood as well.

"My marriage is not open for discussion, Ulrich," he said, the calm words more compelling than shouting would have been.

Violet noticed a number of the men sneaking looks at Wren, Ulrich's expression openly dark. The young queen took it with her usual grace, but Violet found herself frowning on her sister-in-law's behalf. Personal considerations aside, Ulrich's claims were far from true. Mistran merchants were allowed to trade in Entolia since the war ended, it was true. But they hadn't been given a free pass. Regulations were in place. Besides which, she knew from her own research that the man's livelihood was in no danger. He was excessively wealthy.

"I remain of the view that the benefits of open trade with Mistra outweigh the costs," Basil said, lowering the intensity of his voice. His eyes found Ulrich's sole son and heir. "Yannick, do you have any reflections on this point? You visited Myst not long ago, I believe? Did you not observe the benefits of open trade with Mistra?"

Yannick took a moment to respond, seeming reluctant to be drawn out. "It was an informative visit, Your Majesty," he said finally. "Entolian merchants were engaged in trade, certainly, and much of it very profitable. But I did observe some discrimination directed toward them from the local merchants."

"I suspect it was nothing beyond the discrimination Mistran merchants have faced in Tola, from members of this guild," Violet interjected.

"Violet is right," Basil said. If he was disappointed that Yannick hadn't been more of an ally, he didn't show it. At least the younger man was much calmer than his father, showing no inclination to rage at the king or the Mistrans. "And I'd like to take this opportunity to remind everyone that before the war, there was trade between us and our neighbors—long before the marriage alliance between myself and Queen Wren."

He resumed his seat. "Nevertheless, I've come prepared to hear your grievances, as I indicated."

As Violet had known they would, those words opened floodgates which couldn't be closed for the rest of the afternoon. For hours they sat in the room listening to the disgruntled merchants, occasionally managing to speak themselves, only to have every point disregarded. From what Violet could tell, they were making no progress at all, unless moving backwards counted.

When the word embargo was spoken aloud, Basil called the meeting to a halt. The afternoon was wearing toward evening and even Basil's usual calm was visibly wearing thin.

"Sorry, Violet," Basil said wearily, as the merchants filed out of the room. "It looks like I'm subjecting you to another day of this."

Violet frowned at her brother. "What are you apologizing for?" she scolded. "This mess isn't of your making."

"No, but it's still my mess to fix," Basil said. He gave her a rueful smile. "And I'm doing a poor job of that."

"No you're not," Wren contradicted, and Violet agreed.

"Do you have any ideas on how to break the deadlock?" she asked her brother, trying to keep the hint of desperation from her voice. This was her last chance for a way out, and she had no real expectation of rescue. "Anything I don't know about?"

Basil shook his head. "To be perfectly frank, I don't know how to proceed. Ulrich is the real problem." He looked sharply at her. "Am I right in thinking that he has almost absolute influence in the guild?"

Violet nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. The rest will follow him, even if he goes through with the embargo idea. And I'm afraid he's not a very reasonable man. His ego is too big to allow for that. Nothing but his way will be good enough."

"And he's decided that the only way he'll accept is a complete ban on Mistran merchants in Tola, which is completely unreasonable," Basil sighed.

Wren looked troubled. "Would the Merchants' Guild really carry out an embargo on their own city? Surely if they lose all trade within Tola, they'll be the ones to come out worse?"

"Depends how long the embargo held," said Violet unemotionally. "If it succeeded, and Basil yielded, they would regain all the business they've lost to the Mistran merchants."

"Well, I won't yield," Basil said flatly.

Violet said nothing. Basil's attitude wasn't news to her. And while she wouldn't wish to see her brother give in to such demands as Ulrich was making, if things proceeded as they were, she could foresee nothing but hardship for everyone involved—and the regular people of the capital would suffer the most.

"I'll speak with Ulrich again before the next meeting," she said. "Perhaps there is a way to reason with him."

She didn't wait for a response, slipping from the room as Basil and Wren continued their debrief in low voices. Her feet were reluctant, as if determined to convince her she was racing toward her own doom, but she forced them into motion. If she hurried, she could catch Ulrich and his son before they left the castle.

Sure enough, they were just crossing the broad entranceway when she reached them. Father and son both turned at her greeting, Ulrich still clearly irate, and Yannick's face giving little away.

"Your Highness," said Ulrich stiffly.

"I wish to speak with you both," Violet said, pleased that her voice was steady. "Would you step into the courtyard with me?"

"Can the matter not wait until tomorrow's meeting, Your Highness?" Ulrich asked, not very graciously.

"I'm hoping that tomorrow's meeting may not be necessary once you've heard my proposal," Violet said.

The two men exchanged glances, clearly intrigued. With a word to the rest of his retinue, Ulrich moved toward Violet. She led them not outside, but further into the building, to an internal courtyard that had been decorated in an ocean theme. An artificial pond graced the center of the space, resembling a tide pool with its sandy bottom and seashells. Violet didn't lower herself onto one of the carved stone benches, preferring to remain standing as she turned to her audience.

"You said you had a proposal for us, Your Highness?" Ulrich prompted. "What did you mean by that?"

"Exactly that," Violet said, laying one hand on a decorative ship's wheel for an anchor. Her head was spinning a little, and she felt strangely adrift, but she wasn't going to turn back now. Basil needed help, and for the first time in her life she had the power to come to his aid. Her eyes strayed to Yannick, then back to Ulrich. "I understand your concerns regarding the Mistran merchants."

"So you agree about the undesirability of—"

"No." Violet cut off Ulrich's eager words. "I do not share your view on the matter itself. But I understand your concern about the loss of both income and status. To speak frankly—"

"When does any member of your family do anything else?" Ulrich muttered audibly.

Violet gave a grim smile but didn't otherwise respond. "To speak frankly," she started again, "I wondered whether a guarantee regarding the retention of your current influence in the guild and the broader community might be enough to reconcile you to the potential loss of income."

Ulrich raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose to guarantee my influence?"

Violet transferred her gaze to Yannick. "Through you," she told him bluntly. "I'm not spoken for, and unless I've been misinformed, neither are you. I'm proposing a marriage of political advantage. I trust you won't think me arrogant when I express the view that marrying a princess will ensure—and indeed increase—your family's influence."

For a moment there was silence, Ulrich looking stunned and Yannick thoughtful.

"What do you think?" Violet prompted at last, her eyes on Yannick, but the question mainly intended for Ulrich.

"I think we would be honored to be allied with your esteemed royal house," Ulrich said. "Since you've been direct, may I be the same? Is this idea sanctioned by His Majesty?"

"The idea is mine, not Basil's," Violet said. "But you can rest easy that my brother will not interfere in my choice of groom. He's made his feelings on his sisters' autonomy in that area clear."

"Well, then." Ulrich looked like he was refraining from rubbing his hands together. His reaction was confirming Violet's impression that his protests were more about ego even than profit. "Yannick, what do you say?"

Yannick studied Violet thoughtfully for a moment before replying. "I say that I am flattered, of course, Your Highness. But I confess that you've taken me by surprise. Could I have some time to think on the matter?"

"What is there to think on, Yannick?" Ulrich started, but Violet raised a hand.

"Of course you can. I understand that my proposal is unexpected. We can discuss it further when you've had a chance to reflect."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Yannick said. "You're very gracious."

Violet drew a breath. "I think it best, however, that we all agree not to mention the matter to anyone until a decision has been made."

"I agree," said Yannick at once. He turned to his father. "In any event, we can surely postpone tomorrow's meeting?"

"Yes," agreed Ulrich, looking like he was mentally spending the metaphorical currency of his royal connection already. "I will notify His Majesty."

"Very good," Violet agreed. "I will leave you to reflect." She inclined her head, her eyes searching Yannick's face quickly before she turned for the door. His expression was hooded, clearly deep in thought. No smile lurked in his eyes, but neither did he look displeased. He was hard to read, as she'd noted before now.

Violet's steps were steady as she strode from the room, but her mind was as uneven as the rolling deck of a ship. For some reason, all she could think about was the evening before, particularly her joking words to Ari. Say no more, handsome prince from a foreign land! Marry me at once! The thought flashed through her mind that she'd now proposed to two men in as many days. Perhaps Lilac was right, and she was brazen.

She didn't feel brazen, or even confident, in spite of her bold front. She simply felt…weary. And her one desire was to reach the privacy of her room before she succumbed to the uncharacteristic bout of tears threatening to burst at any moment.