Amoro Revidi
Title: Political Fencing [Part
Four]
Series: Vision of Escaflowne
Rating: G
A/N: I know I said it'd be a while, but
this part just sort of came out last night... erm, this morning... and so here's
part 4. Part 5 might take a little longer, though.
***
Without thinking about it, Van balls his fists. “That’s none of your concern.”
“My liege, with all due respect,” another of the advisors says, standing, “it is our concern, as you are the ruler of Fanelia and the cornerstone of the lives throughout the country.”
Glowering, Van glances around the room. “If you must know, I’ve been visiting a sick friend.”
The advisors all give him blank looks. “We were unaware that Lady Merle had fallen ill…”
“She has not.”
“Allen Schezar, is it then?”
“Neither is it him.”
Peralis quietly asks, “Have you been going to the Mystic Moon, your highness?”
Van nods curtly once.
The crowd of advisors erupts into melee, declarations ranging from ‘Impossible!’ to ‘Highly inappropriate for a king to go traipsing off into such a dangerous place,’ and, ‘Irresponsible!’ filter to Van’s ears. He closes his eyes and gathers his patience.
“Highness, who have you been visiting there?” Peralis ventures to ask, voice ringing out over the din of the other advisors.
Van opens his eyes and meets Peralis’ across the room. “I should think that would be obvious,” he says over the dying racket. “I’ve been visiting Hitomi.”
The dying noise cuts off short, the advisors cowed by that declaration. None of them could call it an inappropriate gesture, Hitomi had, after all, been a hero of the Great War. Van settles himself in the chair more comfortably, slouching some and crossing his arms on his chest.
“What’s happened to Lady Hitomi?”
“An accident,” Van says shortly. “I don’t want to discuss it, and she’s not here to talk about it, it’s her business, not yours.”
Slowly the advisors retake their seats and the meeting continues on a more normal path. “Have you given any thought to the idea of finding a queen, your highness?” Peralis asks finally.
“I have considered it,” Van says, leaning on one arm in an agitated manner, “but I haven’t met anyone that fits Fanelia properly.”
“Your Highness,” Gabriel, the minister of foreign affairs, says as he stands, “surely any of the neighboring princesses would suit Fanelia just fine. They are all well versed in ruling a country and know the customs of the land.”
“Not our customs,” Van counters.
“I think what Minister Gabriel means, sire,” Lord Brett speaks up, “is that perhaps Your Highness is having a personal rather than state problem with the princesses?”
“What do you mean by that?” Van asks, slightly bewildered.
“Certainly the princesses are qualified to become queen, and if they are somewhat ignorant of Fanelia’s customs, they can be educated in them?”
Van frowns slightly, face setting in opposition to the implications. “What? Do the lot of you want me to marry someone I care nothing for?” he stands, moving to the window. “The closest one of them to my age is barely sixteen.”
“Your Highness need not choose a bride that is so much younger than himself. Surely there are older princesses…”
“All of which are still unmarried for reasons I care not to think of.”
Peralis stands and takes a step forward, “Your Highness should leave this matter up to us. Surely if it were known that the King of Fanelia were seeking a bride all Gaea would turn out their best and brightest to vie for the position of Queen.”
“And that’s just what I’m afraid of,” Van says quietly, looking up at the Mystic Moon. “If they know I’m seeking a bride they’ll put out the best parts of themselves, but that’s not what’s important in a queen.”
“Sire?” Brett asks.
“A queen must be someone who can balance out the good and the bad, and can work around situations as they arise.” Resting his hands on the windowsill he clenches his fists around it, “And I won’t know anything about how these… candidates would respond in a time of urgency if it should arise if I’m only seeing the side they show when attempting to attract a man.”
Peralis nods, glancing at the other council members for their support, which comes out of virtue not only of Peralis’ position as chief advisor, but also seeing the value of their king’s words.
“Let the matter drop for now,” Van says, glancing down at his gloves, mind reeling with the idea of finding a princess to wed.
“Well… there’s only the business of the invitation you’ve received for the anniversary celebration in Asturia.”
“Anniversary?” Van asks, mildly intrigued.
“It is the fourth wedding anniversary of the Queen’s marriage to Dryden Fassa, and, subsequently, the coronation.”
“And the celebration…?”
“A week’s festivities in the capital ending with a ball on the eve of the anniversary. Shall we send your regrets?” Peralis asks, pen ready to mark down the King’s refusal.
Normally, Van stayed away from such large gatherings, preferring to remain in Fanelia in case of attack, and general dislike of the social scene at the stuffy royal affairs. Something about the chance to see his old friends from Asturia, however, drew him to a little bit of extroversion, in this case, though.
“No,” Van says quietly.
Hitomi was being released from the hospital in a few days, and as he thought about the idea, it made more and more sense to him.
“I’ll be attending.”
Peralis was halfway through the note of refusal when he heard the words he never thought he would hear from his king’s lips.
“Your Highness?”
“If I’m going to even attempt to look for a bride… since Fanelia will be needing an heir, at least, I might as well get to know some of the people that are up for the position.”
Brett and Gabriel exchanged covert glances of joy, Peralis began to mark out his prior writing.
“And besides, I’m going to ask Hitomi to come with me,” Van finishes.
That stops the advisors short once more, but Peralis recovers quickly. “Then this meeting is quite concluded,” he says, “shall I arrange for a room and seamstresses for the Lady Hitomi’s visit?”
Van glances at his chief advisor somewhat incredulously. “You’ve got no problem with her coming?”
“Highness, the Lady Hitomi, be her from the Mystic Moon or not, is a hero to both Fanelia and Gaea, any hospitality we can show her is a privilege and an honor to us.”
Van ponders that statement and nods. “See to the arrangements then,” he says. “Does anyone else wish to comment on anything?” he asks his advisors, turning to face them.
Brett, Gabriel and the other advisors look between each other and shake their heads, muttering, “No, sire,” and other such negations.
“Then you may leave,” Van says, turning back to face his throne.
As the lords and council members leave the room, Van sinks into his throne grateful for the end of the torture session. A low scraping noise alerts him to the fact that he is not alone.
“So how is Hitomi, Lord Van?” she asks, dropping down next to his throne and drawing herself up to her full height of close to six feet, pink hair draping down her back.
“You really shouldn’t listen in on the meetings I have with my advisors, Merle.”
“It’s not like you ever tell me anything about what happens anymore anyway, how do you expect me to keep up with things if I don’t?” she asks, flicking her tail in an annoyed gesture of her own, ear pricking as though waiting for a response. “You know Brett wasn’t pleased to find out you were visiting Hitomi, don’t you?”
“It escaped my notice,” Van responds wryly. “None of them really were, but they cover it well.”
“You need different advisors, Van,” Merle responds, blue eyes sparkling as she moves over to stand by the window, imitating his prior position with her hands clenched on the sill. “Otherwise you’re going to break the windows with all the clenching and unclenching of your hands.”
Van smiles slightly and crosses his legs at the ankles, relaxing a bit.
“So…” Merle begins, letting go of the sill and turning around to lean against the wall while taking out her nail file, “are you really going to bring Hitomi back here with you?”
“If she agrees,” he says, raking a hand through his hair and glancing up at the ceiling.
“You haven’t asked her yet?” Merle snickers a purr and says, “That’s so typical of you, Lord Van. You get an entire country… no, two of them, prepared to receive her and you haven’t even asked her yet.”
“I’ll ask her tomorrow,” he replies lightly. “She gets released the day after, maybe she’ll come straight from there.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Merle asks, one brow lifting mischievously.
“She will,” Van replies firmly, standing and stretching his back. He crosses to the door, and looks over his shoulder at his childhood friend, repeating again in a less sure voice, “She will.”
***