“What do you want to talk about?”
Korden jogged to keep up with her. “The plan for our food supplies.”
“I have a plan.”
Korden scanned the area aimlessly, looking for any unseen help with the conversation. “Yesterday, there was no plan,” he said.
“Right,” she bantered back. “I was there.”
Korden scratched his chin. “Yesterday, you wanted solutions, and directed the council to produce some.”
“Correct,” she affirmed.
“But you have come up with a plan since then?”
“Correct,” she said again.
“Wonderful. What is that plan?”
“You’ll find out in a few minutes. Have the most recent figures on Acorilan’s armies brought to the meeting.”
“Wait. What? Armies? I would very much appreciate it if you would enlighten me first, before we go up there!”
“I don’t like repeating myself. Bring those figures.”
Korden threw up his arms.
They broached the top of the stairs together, with Korden slightly behind. Nothing else was said between the two before reaching the council chamber.
The doors to the room swung open. Jularra swooshed in and immediately threw her hand up to stifle the greetings. As she did, she took in the demeanor of the lords. They were huddled in groups, speaking very little. Jularra took that as a sign of panic, and a lack of ideas.
“My lords. Thank you, truly, for remaining with us an extra day.”
Jularra glided to the other end of the table. She looked up at Detsepera before sitting down.
“I want you all to know I appreciate the gift of your extra time, and have no desire to take up much more of it. So, let’s get to it. I have an idea of my own, but I want to hear all of yours first.”
The lords exchanged uneasy glances, and only offered silence. Korden cleared his throat and broke the silence, entering the room and taking his place next to Jularra. The queen tore off a piece of nearby bread and motioned for wine.
“Well, someone start,” she forced through her mouthful of bread.
Maccail, the lord most prone to tire rapidly of hesitance and intimation, spoke up.
“Of course, ma’am,” he obliged confidently. “Though I’m afraid we could only come up with one possibility.”
Jularra stopped chewing and rushed to swallow. “Well, one is better than none. Out with it.”
Robain took over.
“Well, given your previous stipulations, we were obviously limited in possibilities.”
The queen responded by sipping her wine.
“War was not an option,” Robain continued.
“And trade wasn’t realistic,” Drumean added.
To the relief of the rest of the lords, Maccail stepped back in.
“So, while we know the idea is mostly frowned upon, we believe the only feasible option remaining is to ask for a loan.”
“Hmm.” She considered the notion. “A loan of food?”
“Yes,” Maccail confirmed.
She had no immediate reply.
“If you’re concerned with how that will appear,” Maccail said pre-emptively, “we can manufacture any reason or motive, of course. There are certainly ways to paint this need in an extremely minor and temporary light. Perhaps we had a fire in our granaries?”
Every lord not already looking at Jularra turned slowly to judge her reaction. She contained the desire to make any particular faces, which was easy, considering she had already decided what she was going to do. She enjoyed another sip of wine and ran her tongue around her mouth, searching for any stray crumbs. She pondered for a few seconds, but soon rewarded their patience.
“I didn’t want to go that route, but you’re right,” she said. “It’s the only real option left.”
The shoulders of the men around the table relaxed a bit. Relief at reaching a consensus loosened each of the men’s faces.
“But that isn’t what we’re going to do.”
Nerves tensed back up. Some of the lords looked at each other.
“After giving you the criteria I left you with yesterday, I was confident in how I wanted to proceed, and felt the same way up until no more than an hour ago.”
The few of the nobles leaned in with uneasy intrigue.
“Might I ask what changed your mind, Your Majesty?” Ualar asked sheepishly.
Before he finished his question, she had already started looking around the table. She knew she had invited the follow-up question the moment she spoke, but didn’t feel like getting into details. Not with her current audience, anyway. She cast a wide mental net, hoping to catch something she could reply with sooner rather than later.
“Perspective.”
She felt good about the answer. It was succinct, enigmatic, sincere, but powerful. Most importantly, it was the truth. No one at the table offered any further challenges, and only responded with assorted nods.
“So, if I may,” continued Ualar. “What course of action are you proposing?”
Jularra set her glass down and swallowed. Her voice projected confidence and gravity.
“We should unite our forces and invade Torguria.”
The nobles weren't ready for this latest surprise. Gasps and grunts of astonishment circled the room.
“Forgive me, but why the reversal?” Maccail asked. He seemed agitated. “A reconsideration of trade or a loan is one thing, but an outright invasion is completely unexpected.”
Jularra nodded with understanding. She stood and marched briskly to the side of the room, where a map of the continent hung.
“As you all know, early on in my reign, I returned the Crystal Expanse to the Yubik people. It was a gesture of goodwill, which has only benefited us since.”
A grunt of disagreement popped out from somewhere in the room. Jularra spun to face the table.
“That region is worthless and consists mostly of glaciers,” Maccail hissed.
“It was becoming too expensive to monitor and defend, and was wrongfully taken from them by one of my ancestors. By giving it back to them as a gift, voluntarily, we created an ally. And though we are facing this food crisis right now, we have enjoyed a peaceful border with them ever since.”
As expected, someone bit back immediately. It was Maccail, again.
“I still maintain that we should never have given up that region. No nation should ever forfeit land willingly!”
Jularra stepped closer to the table.
“Then perhaps we will take it back, and your
