Chapter Six
Valeris
My head ached fromthe endless boom of the fireworks.Spectators gazed in awe at the bursts of color, but I couldn’t figure out why they acted so mesmerized.If you had seen them once, you had seen them a million times.We set off fireworks forliterallyevery special occasion.The king was in a good mood?Fireworks show.The prized broodmare delivered a healthy colt?Fireworks.A noble’s cousin’s husband’s sister’s dog had a birthday?Also fireworks.
While those occasions might not be on the same level as this, the cost did not equal enjoyment for me.The sewage system in the lower east side of the city was atrocious and needed replacing, but my father couldn’t spare any of the taxes or royal reserve.He claimed they needed all of it for the Paravellian Balls, that keeping up appearances of being the richest in the twelve kingdoms would help secure our alliances andthenwe could afford to fix it.What I couldn’t drive through his thick skull was that if the situation wasn’t corrected soon, we would have an epidemic on our hands from all of the regurgitated sewage that couldn’t drain—and the sewers were only one of many issues that needed addressing.Not to mention the near bankruptcy of the treasury last year when Zandyr almost caused a famine by interfering with the harvesting schedules to better line his own pockets.It had taken months to sort out, yet my father had dealt him no consequences.
“You’re counting how much each of those fireworks costs, aren’t you?”
I frowned at my uncle, unappreciative of the fact he always seemed to know what I was thinking.
“You know the money could be put to better use,” I said.“I think it’s time for another kingdom to host the seven balls.”
“Another kingdom host theParavellianBalls?”
“They can change it to their own kingdom’s name.”
“Good luck convincing your father with that argument.”
I shook my head.Not everything at the ball was a waste.The extravagant food was incomparable, and the work provided extra income to struggling families and the lower classes.They needed it after the last year of uncertainty we’d had.
“I keep trying to get him to have a ball where even the lower classes are allowed to attend inside the palace walls.”
My uncle shrugged, sipping on his drink.“They throw their own imitation of the Paravellian Balls in the streets.”
I pursed my lips.“It’s not the same.They deserve something...something more.”
“Given the opportunity, do you think they wouldwantto enter the palace?Most are more than happy with the lives they live.”
I side-eyed him, calculating.“Something you’d like to share, Uncle?I know you sneak into the village taverns at night to listen for prattle like a meddling governess.”
He scoffed.“I do nothing of the sort.”
Lies.
“All I’m saying,” he said, “is what the people need from their king more than anything else is a monarch who loves them and cares about their well-being.A king loyal enough to take care of them.”
I cocked an eyebrow.“So basically what they need is the exact opposite of what my father is?”
“Your words, not mine.”
I swiped a fluffy pastry from a passing servant’s tray, stuffing the chocolate goodness into my mouth and washing it down with a swig of punch.
Pastries were a necessary expense.
“Are you going to dance tonight?”my uncle asked.“I’m sure there’s more than one eligible young lady you could strike an alliance with.”
Perhaps a marriage alliance?
