15min fic #73
Sep. 20th, 2004 10:57 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annarti.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
yrae
Title~ Aeia's Curse
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 73. This took more than 15 minutes. My bad. Again. Lookit! The royals through the eyes of someone else~!
~ ~ ~
The Minister for Agriculture approached the king with what he thought was obvious hesitation. The report he was about to give was not going to please the king. He stood before Raykin’s reigning monarch and heir, the former waiting attentively, the latter sitting with one leg cocked on the arm of his chair, trying vainly to look attentive.
Anhli ignored the prince and focussing instead on his much more competent father. He cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his tunic, noting how they shook before clasping them behind his back.
“Majesty.” It was a shaky start. He cleared his throat again and started over. “Majesty, the rains this year have been weak; Lin has not favoured us. The river has barely overflowed to the second tidal mark, and not a drop of rain has fallen from Lin’s hands for at least ten months.”
Prince Nolryn suppressed a yawn, almost startling the Minister. How could he show so little interest in such an important subject? Anhli took a deep breath and pressed on, regardless of what the prince’s sentiments were.
“We are experiencing a heavy drought, Majesty, and it is quite possible that t could extend for a number of years.”
King Mithé leant forward in his chair, resting crossed arms on the table in front of him. His face was grave. “How much do we have?” he asked clearly.
Anhli cringed inwardly. As good a king as Mithé was, he had a bad habit of asking blunt questions. “Eight and a half of the grain warehouses are full,” he answered at last.
The king drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and clasped his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair and frowning at the ceiling. Anhli could tell the king was going through the same calculations as Anhli had gone through himself, many times.
“There is no conceivable way that eight and a half warehouses will feed Raykin until next year’s harvest,” the Minister clarified, more for the prince’s benefit than the king’s. “It is doubtful the supplies will even last through Autumn.”
The king nodded slowly, then turned to his son. ‘Oh please, for the love of Lin, don’t ask the opinion of the prince.’
“Nolryn?” Anhil struggled to keep his displeasure from his face.
The prince frowned as if in thought. “Supply and demand, yes?” he supplied; Anhil’s heart sank. “If we raise the price of the grain, people won’t buy so much of it, so there will be a better chance of it lasting through the year.”
The Minister could see King Mithé’s left eye twitch.
“Might I make a suggestion, Majesty?”
The king shook his head. “We shall discuss the matter and speak with you later. You are dismissed, Minister.”
The Minister for Agriculture bowed deeply and left without argument. As did every other Minister in the palace, and possible a good number from other kingdoms, Anhil longed to know of the conversation that took place after such a meeting. Whatever the king told his son, it plainly wasn’t working.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 73. This took more than 15 minutes. My bad. Again. Lookit! The royals through the eyes of someone else~!
The Minister for Agriculture approached the king with what he thought was obvious hesitation. The report he was about to give was not going to please the king. He stood before Raykin’s reigning monarch and heir, the former waiting attentively, the latter sitting with one leg cocked on the arm of his chair, trying vainly to look attentive.
Anhli ignored the prince and focussing instead on his much more competent father. He cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his tunic, noting how they shook before clasping them behind his back.
“Majesty.” It was a shaky start. He cleared his throat again and started over. “Majesty, the rains this year have been weak; Lin has not favoured us. The river has barely overflowed to the second tidal mark, and not a drop of rain has fallen from Lin’s hands for at least ten months.”
Prince Nolryn suppressed a yawn, almost startling the Minister. How could he show so little interest in such an important subject? Anhli took a deep breath and pressed on, regardless of what the prince’s sentiments were.
“We are experiencing a heavy drought, Majesty, and it is quite possible that t could extend for a number of years.”
King Mithé leant forward in his chair, resting crossed arms on the table in front of him. His face was grave. “How much do we have?” he asked clearly.
Anhli cringed inwardly. As good a king as Mithé was, he had a bad habit of asking blunt questions. “Eight and a half of the grain warehouses are full,” he answered at last.
The king drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and clasped his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair and frowning at the ceiling. Anhli could tell the king was going through the same calculations as Anhli had gone through himself, many times.
“There is no conceivable way that eight and a half warehouses will feed Raykin until next year’s harvest,” the Minister clarified, more for the prince’s benefit than the king’s. “It is doubtful the supplies will even last through Autumn.”
The king nodded slowly, then turned to his son. ‘Oh please, for the love of Lin, don’t ask the opinion of the prince.’
“Nolryn?” Anhil struggled to keep his displeasure from his face.
The prince frowned as if in thought. “Supply and demand, yes?” he supplied; Anhil’s heart sank. “If we raise the price of the grain, people won’t buy so much of it, so there will be a better chance of it lasting through the year.”
The Minister could see King Mithé’s left eye twitch.
“Might I make a suggestion, Majesty?”
The king shook his head. “We shall discuss the matter and speak with you later. You are dismissed, Minister.”
The Minister for Agriculture bowed deeply and left without argument. As did every other Minister in the palace, and possible a good number from other kingdoms, Anhil longed to know of the conversation that took place after such a meeting. Whatever the king told his son, it plainly wasn’t working.