“You want to know my beef with the family Blue?”Hamish descended to his seat.“Let’s begin with our government formed in the name of a monarch.”
“As are most constitutional monarchies.”
“I want a government formed by the people, for the people.My poor uncle died giving a speech supporting Queen Catherine and the monarchy.Assassinated.Fickle loyalty died with him.”
“I’m sorry about your uncle.But are you saying the queen and the House of Blue are not for the people?”
Fickle seemed a bit taken aback by the question.As if he’d never considered it before.
“I sometimes wonder, yes.”
“Listen, MP Fickle, a government for the people and by the people has plenty of its own issues.But Americans know how to work with our issues.We’re formed, I suppose, in the name of our Constitution, which gives rights to the people.So we duke it out.At least Lauchtenland is formed in the name of a family.One that’s been good to the people.A family built on traditions but also restricted by laws.Lauchtens don’t know any other form of government.I’ve done my research.Post-World War One Europe tried to form republics only to fail.Do Nazi Germany and fascist Italy ring a bell?”
Fickle fell against the back of his chair.“So that means we can’t succeed?”
“Do you hear that, Michael?”Scottie turned to him then back to Fickle.“Classic redneck thinking.”She came around to sit in her chair, arms on her thighs, shoulders relaxed.“One Bubba watches another Bubba jump from a building without a net.When he lands splat on his face, the first Bubba goes, ‘He didn’t do it right.Watch this.’”
Michael choked, spewing a bit of his tea.“Begging your pardon,” he muttered, reaching for a white linen napkin.Whatever Scottie’s aim for the day, she was owning the pitch.
“Our cause is nothing like your American rednecks.”Fickle, stiff and offended.
“So you think,” Scottie said.“Can you answer my original question?Why do you hate the Blues so much?”
“For one, I still contend Princess Holland was behind the Reingard deal stealing the land out from under our own Midlands’ Eloise Ltd.But put that aside.The reason that propels me is—” Fickle fired from his chair and walked off, hands in his pockets.“All right,” he said, whipping around to Scottie.“I’ll say it.The House of Bluestoleeverything from my family.”The confession stuck in the air.“Sent us into two hundred years of poverty we’re just now climbing out of, barely, by using our wits.My wits.But the damage was done.All that was ours, lost, gone, never to be regained.”
“What are you talking about, Fickle?”Michael said.“Where’s your proof?Or is this your fabricated backstory to justify your venom against the royal family?”
“I have none,” Hamish said.“Yet.”
“Because there is none.”Michael glanced at Scottie.“The House of Blue is the most documented family in Europe.We’d know if land was taken unfairly.I daresay if you’re a representative of your ancestors and land was taken, they probably deserved it.”
“You sit there so smug with your Cross name and reputation despite the family’s decreased wealth, squandered by your ancestors.Yes, I know about your financial downgrade.You still have your homes and land.But the Fickles were left destitute.Not little by little, not by choosing to give away our wealth, but with one stroke of a pen.The Midlands belonged to the Fickles.We broke our backs plowing the rockiest soil on earth and turning it into farms and fields.We built the town, laid the cobblestone.”Hamish aimed his speech at Michael.“We mined the minerals and the gemstone, didn’t we?”
“And the House of Blue took it away?For no reason?”Scottie said.
“Lock, stock, and barrel.Every dust of dirt, every bleating sheep and lowing cattle, the crops, the shops, the mines.All of it.”
“Then there should be a record of ownership.”Michael pulled out his phone to make a note.“Something in the archives.Do you have a date?”
“Why would they do such a thing?”Scottie said.“What was the reason?”
“Other than the traditional reason of greed and envy, we know of none.The Fickles were prospering outside the aristocratic circles, eclipsing the no-good dukes and earls relying on their titles for possessions and wealth.Only we weren’t titled.Just hardworking commoners, proving what you Americans proved, Lady Royal.A hardworking man can go from poverty to riches in a lifetime.”
“Where is this novel you quote, MP Fickle?”Michael said.“I’d love to read it.”
“Every word is true.Our ancestors have passed down the story from generation to generation.”
“I need names and dates, bill of sale, land deeds.”Michael tapped out another note on his phone, wondering if his father knew any of this.
Hamish raised his chin as if to guard against an accusation of lying.“That’s the thing…our records were lost in the Midlands fire.”
“How convenient.”Michael tucked his phone away.Fickle had crossed the Rubicon.A fire?Meanwhile, Scottie watched Fickle with intensity.
“Tell me what you know,” she said.
“All right, since you’ve asked.My seventh great-grandfather could buy and sell half the Lauchten aristocracy.He was a philanthropist.A man of faith.He was becoming friends with King Rein the Second.Then in 1821, the government started levying taxes and fees against the Midlands.Exorbitant ones.My great-grandfather paid for his family and workers and most of the shopkeepers because if he didn’t, they’d have gone to debtors’ prison.Next, the government took land on some trumped-up charge that we didn’t properly possess the Midlands.My ancestor appealed to King Rein to no avail.More land was taken.The levies increased.By the 1860s, nothing was left.That once wealthy man, Nicolas Fickle, died in poverty, as did every son and daughter after.It was only in the mid-1900s we began to see daylight.”
“And this is the source of your venom?”Scottie said softly.“The House of Blue didn’t stop the land grabs and the taxes?”
