How could he joke at a time like this?
My skin tingled. I tried to tell myself that we should be on high alert, scrambling for ideas for how we’d find the other talismans. Not thinking of climbing between the sheets and all over each other. But we hadn't been together long.
I needed him in every way possible.
“I'll escort you.” Lord Briscalar nodded to the guards to accompany us.
They bustled around us as we made our way back through thewinding halls and up the main staircase, Farris racing ahead before coming back to trot at our side.
“How are things going in the city?” Lore asked Briscalar when we reached the first landing.
“Very well, my king.” He paced beside us. “Homes are being constructed quickly, and food is pouring in from the outlying areas. We've already moved some families from nearby manors and into their new homes. As for the borgons, no one has seen them, not even the farmers living beyond the walls. It’s as if they melted back into their caves.”
“Let’s hope so,” Lore said.
Briscalar clasped his hands behind his back as he walked. “I sent riders to the farthermost eastern and western manors. They’ve returned with ample supplies. Wood, nails, blankets, even livestock. And with the bonds forged from your efforts prior to traveling to meet with our queen, the guilds from the city have rallied as well. Stoneworkers and carpenters have reshaped the outer walls where the borgons broke through, and much faster than we thought possible. If I do say so myself, their repairs have improved the structures. The borgons won't find it as easy to slip through our defenses the next time.”
Pray to the fates there wouldn't be a next time.
“Good.” I caught the flicker of approval in Lore’s eyes. “And the food stores?”
We continued down the hall toward our suite.
Briscalar nodded, his lips pursing in satisfaction. “The southern farms have promised monthly deliveries of grain and vegetables in exchange for exemptions in trade levies. I took a gamble involving their lords, and my king, that gamble has paid off.”
Lore's expression sharpened. “Explain the terms of thisgamble. I want to understand exactly what we promised. What are we giving in exchange for their help?”
Briscalar’s posture tightened, his lace cuffs fluttering as he smoothed the ruffle at his throat. “The eastern high lords and ladies have long been grumbling about the tariffs placed on their grain. They claim that the levies disproportionately strain their workers and hinder trade with other regions. I assured them that with Evergorne in this state, the crown would reevaluate these taxes for the duration of the recovery efforts.”
Lore’s brow lifted. “Reevaluate doesn’t sound like an exemption.”
Briscalar’s lips pressed into a thin line before he spoke again. “True, Your Majesty. I said we’d reevaluate, but I also implied, without stating outright, that should they continue sending food and supply shipments without complaint, their tariff reductions could remain afterward. A long-term reward for their current generosity.”
“You gambled on their faith in our goodwill.” Lore’s tone didn’t betray much yet, though his eyes narrowed.
“Yes, sire, I did.” Briscalar met Lore’s gaze head-on. “I understand the risk, but these lords are pragmatic. They’ve seen your actions in the capital and heard about the sacrifices made here at Evergorne. They’re testing your resolve, yes, but also your generosity. Showing that this kingdom thrives on cooperation, not exploitation, strengthens your position overall.”
“If their expectations of permanent tariff exemptions grow, we’ll lose a substantial part of the income that sustains this court.” It was clear Lore was calculating every implication. He paused in the hall. “What’s your solution when they demand more than we can give?”
Briscalar’s jaw tightened before he answered. “I’ve proposed a rotating tax system. Lords who meet quotas for aid and supplieswill see lower tariffs for a period of three years. This ensures fairness and prevents our court from bleeding resources from any particular estate indefinitely. Those who benefit now must reinvest in the future. By the end of the cycle, we’ll have reserves to stabilize Evergorne’s economy, plus the allegiance of lords who feel they’ve gained more than they’ve lost.”
His gaze darted between Lore and me as if he was trying to gauge our reaction. Lore’s eyes lingered on me. I knew what he was doing—seeking my insight. This wasn't the first time, and I knew it would not be the last.
“What do you think, love?” Lore’s voice slid through the space between us, the faintest hint of a challenge lurking beneath the surface. “Does Briscalar's plan hold weight?”
Briscalar sucked in a breath. I could practically feel his nervous energy flooding the hallway.
Farris bounded ahead, then turned, waiting for us to catch up.
I considered the details, sorting through the implications as I randomly brushed dirt off my tunic. “It’s clever.” I centered my gaze on the lord. “A rotating tax system will keep the crown’s demands from feeling like too much of a burden, but…” I glanced at Lore. “It does have risks.”
Briscalar’s mouth opened, but I held up a hand to stop him before he spoke.
“The problem is long-term loyalty,” I said. “You’re building trust between the crown and the high lords and ladies, but it relies on their belief that future rewards will outweigh the losses they’re taking now. If even one feels cheated, it could unravel what we’re trying to establish.”
Briscalar sent me an approving nod. “You're so right, my queen. That’s why I’ve ensured the terms are as explicit as possible without pinning us in a corner. These agreements?—”
“Have no real guarantee,” I said.
