Chapter 29 – A Taxing Situation

“Good morning, Windom. I would like to have a word with His Grace, if he can spare the time. In private.”

His eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly. It was an unusual request, Valentina knew. Her meetings with the duke usually took place in the evening and were generally initiated by him, not her. And certainly not so early in the morning, just before a parliamentary session.

“I will convey your message to His Grace,” Windom said neutrally and set off.

Valentina waited, pacing back and forth.

“Why so nervous?” Vyxara asked in her mind.

“Because I’m not sure how he will react,” Valentina admitted silently. “I don’t want him to think I’m meddling in his affairs.”

“Well, you are meddling, after all, but in a way that will please him, don’t worry.”

Windom returned, his face still unreadable. “His Grace will receive you. Follow me.”

The duke’s study was decorated in dark wood, and the walls were covered with shelves full of folios. Above the fireplace hung an oil painting of the duke, painted perhaps ten years ago, when his hair had been less grey and less thin. Or perhaps the painter had simply wanted to flatter him. Neatly sorted correspondence and sealed documents were stacked on the massive desk.

Cosimo himself sat behind the desk, a quill in his hand, and looked up when she entered. He looked tired, but his gaze was as alert and attentive as ever.

When he saw her, his gaze took on the warmth and possessive pleasure with which he always looked at her. But curiosity followed shortly thereafter. After all, this was no ordinary visit.

“Valentina.” He put down his pen. “You surprise me. Sit down.”

She sat down in the chair in front of his desk, her hands folded calmly in her lap.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you. I know Parliament is meeting soon.”

“I always have time for you, if it’s at all possible to arrange it.” A half-smile played around his lips. “But I confess, you’ve piqued my curiosity. You rarely visit me in the morning. What’s on your mind?”

Valentina took a deep breath. “I’m not sure if what I want to tell you is even important. And I certainly don’t want to give the impression that I’m meddling in your affairs. But I’ve learned something that might interest you.”

Cosimo’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I’m listening.”

“At the Duke of Southwatch’s garden party, I spoke with Lady Tilda Farnsworth. We got talking, and she was surprisingly open.” Valentina weighed her words carefully. “She told me about her brother, Lord Quentin. He is a knight on the western frontier, captain of a garrison there, and she is very proud of him.”

“I know the young man by name,” Cosimo said. “A brave and capable knight, I hear.”

“That seems to me to be precisely the problem. Lady Tilda also mentioned that her father has changed a bit lately, becoming quick-tempered and secretive. She heard him say to her mother that the flower of Summerland, the best young men, would be sacrificed for, um, someone’s pride and greed.”

“Someone’s pride and greed, I see. Continue,” he said, his voice now distinctly sharper and more attentive.

“I believe,” Valentina continued cautiously, “that the Marquess of Coldby is not opposed to taxation, at least not really, but that this is his way of opposing the war. And I believe he is opposed to the war because he is afraid that his son, who is known to be such a good soldier, will be sent to fight in it. Or that Lord Quentin might even want to go himself. And because he is also known to be very brave, he could easily fall in this war. He is Farnsworth’s only son, and I believe it is his fear for him that makes him so difficult to deal with right now.”

“Well done,” Vyxara murmured contentedly in her head.

Cosimo leaned back in his chair, his eyes half closed as his mind worked.

“That would explain a lot,” he finally said, more to himself than to her. “His sudden stubbornness and refusal to even negotiate with me for example. Of course, he can’t possibly say that, or people would think he was a coward.”

He stood up and came around the desk. Valentina also rose, unsure if the conversation was over.

Cosimo stopped in front of her and looked at her with affection and respect. He raised his hand and gently touched her cheek, letting his fingers linger there for a moment.

“My clever, attentive Valentina,” he said softly. Then he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, almost more fatherly than passionate. “I really didn’t think you would come to me with secret information this morning of all days.”

“I just wanted to help.”

“You did.” He stepped back, but his gaze remained warm. “I can’t use this as leverage, that would make me an enemy for life. But it does allow me to address his real concern.” He paced the room as he thought aloud. “Of course, the boy doesn’t have to be on the front lines. Maybe we can even get him a position that’s both honorable and keeps him out of any fighting.”

He stopped and turned back to her. “And Farnsworth doesn’t even have to agree, he’d just make himself look ridiculous after all his opposition. But even if he just abstains, the opposition collapses. The commons alone can’t stop us.”

“So it was useful information?” Valentina asked.

“It was very useful, Valentina,” Cosimo came back to her and stroked her hair tenderly. “You showed me a way out of a dead end I’ve been stuck in for weeks.”

Then he dismissed her with a kiss. “But now I’m afraid I have to get ready for Parliament. See you tonight.”

As Valentina left the study, Vyxara spoke up again. “That was obviously the information he needed. He already has a plan.”

“Then I hope it works,” Valentina thought to herself as she walked down the corridor.

“Oh, it will definitely work. Cosimo is shrewd.”

~

A day later, Valentina was back in the Parliament gallery, sitting next to the duchess and Lady Beatrice, watching the proceedings below. The session had been interrupted for a break, and the lords and representatives had dispersed into small groups scattered across the sprawling Parliament grounds.

Cosimo stood in one of the rear corners of the grounds with Marquess Farnsworth, half-hidden behind a linen screen. The two men stood close together, their heads tilted toward each other, talking intently. Even from this distance, Valentina could see the tension in Farnsworth’s pose.

Valentina waited a moment until the duchess and Lady Beatrice were engrossed in a quiet conversation about the scandalous seating arrangements at an upcoming banquet, then activated her Essence Listening.

“So, do we have an agreement?” It was Cosimo, his voice calm and businesslike.

Farnsworth hesitated. His fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sleeve. “Do I have your word, Greystone?”

“I can give you something better than my word.” Cosimo reached into his coat and pulled out a sealed document. The heavy seal was unmistakable even from this distance. It was the Great Seal of Sommerland. “But I must warn you, only open this if His Majesty ever summons you to the feudal host.”

Farnsworth stared at the document. “What is this?”

“Letters Patent,” Cosimo replied calmly. “Personally sealed with the king’s great seal. In it, His Majesty appoints your son Lord Quentin as Constable of Vandercourt Castle. He is charged with maintaining the king’s peace in the capital and protecting the city in his absence.” A short pause. “Furthermore, he is ordered to take the young Prince Hugh as his squire, to guard and train him.”

Valentina could see Farnsworth’s face go through a range of emotions. Disbelief, guilt, suspicion, but also hope.

“That’s-” His voice faltered.

“A great honor, of course,” Cosimo finished the sentence for him.

“Brilliant,” Vyxara judged. “His son can’t get out of this, and he can’t be accused of cowardice.”

Farnsworth took the sealed document with trembling hands and slipped it into his coat.

“Thank you, Greystone. I-” He paused and cleared his throat. “I appreciate your generosity.”

Cosimo bowed his head. “I’m sure we understand each other, Farnsworth.”

Both men nodded, shook hands, and then parted ways, mingling once more with the other members of Parliament.

~

Over the next two days, Valentina watched the subtle shifts in Parliament with growing fascination.

Marquess Farnsworth was still speaking, but his speeches had lost their sharpness, and he no longer worked on individual representatives of the Commons to keep them in line. Where he had previously railed against the taxation measures with passionate conviction, his words now sounded more like a duty. He still raised objections, of course, but without the verve that had previously carried others along with him.

As a result, opposition to taxation increasingly crumbled.

The guild masters and city representatives who had previously rallied around Farnsworth seemed lost without their anchor. Their objections echoed off the high wooden beams of the parliament tent as Cosimo and other lords lured them away from the anti-taxation coalition one by one with individual promises.

~

One evening that week, Valentina found herself at another dreary garden party, this time at the Duke of Edhel’s. She was mainly concerned with avoiding Faustus Boarfend’s father, who was one of Whitehall’s most important followers.

“Valentina!”

She turned and saw Tilda Farnsworth walking toward her. However, the nervous energy she had radiated during their last encounter had given way to a calmer attitude.

“Lady Tilda,” Valentina greeted her cheerfully.

“I was hoping to meet you here.” Tilda gently pulled her aside, away from the other guests. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank you? But for what?”

Tilda smiled knowingly. “My father has been in a much better mood for the past few days, and I have, of course, noticed his, let’s call it, turnaround in Parliament. I don’t know exactly what happened, of course.” Her dark eyes met Valentina’s gaze. “But I have a hunch that our conversation had something to do with it.”

“Oh, I really didn’t do anything,” Valentina said cautiously. “I just listened. Sometimes it helps to just have someone listen to you.”

“Listened, yes.” Tilda’s smile deepened. “You certainly did.” She hesitated for a moment, as if weighing her next words carefully. “I love my brother very much, Valentina. I would do anything to protect him. And I hope-” She broke off, visibly struggling with herself. “I hope you don’t feel used. I really like you. Despite the, well, the maneuvering.”

With that, she bowed her head in farewell and disappeared back into the crowd before Valentina could overcome her surprise enough to respond.

“Have I been played?” Valentina asked Vyxara in her mind.

“Not really,” the demon replied thoughtfully. “It just seems that you weren’t the only one who sensed an opportunity during your first conversation. You really shouldn’t be surprised that people are trying to use you to get to the duke’s ear.”

“So she did use me after all.”

“More than you used her? Or did you both cleverly reach an agreement that gave each of you what you wanted while at the same time casually solving a political problem for the realm that had been blocking the entire Parliament for weeks? Neither did Tilda play you, nor did you play her. You were simply two smart women whose interests overlapped.”

~

The day of the vote came a week later.

Valentina sat next to the duchess in the gallery, her hands folded in her lap, watching as the duke rose one last time to speak in favor of the tax measure before the vote was forced.

He spoke once more of the security of the realm, of the pirates who threatened trade, of the need to strengthen the fleet, and reminded everyone of the arguments that had been exchanged over the past weeks. His words conjured up the image of a strong Summerland, united and valiant in the face of its enemies.

No one who opposed the measures came close to delivering such a convincing speech.

Then the Lord Chancellor called for a vote. Name by name was called, and each vote was recorded by the clerks. The atmosphere on the parliamentary grounds was tense, even though the outcome must have been clear to anyone who knew how to read the political currents.

“The honorable Marquess of Coldby?”

Valentina held her breath.

“Abstention.”

A collective sigh rippled through the ranks of the opposition. At that moment, it became clear to even the last of them that they had definitely lost.

The final result was not unanimous, but that was not necessary. The measure had been passed. Relief and triumph spread through the ranks of the royal faction. Lords patted each other on the back and exchanged satisfied glances.

Valentina’s gaze found Cosimo in the crowd below her. He beamed and accepted congratulations from the other lords. Everyone knew to whom the king owed this victory.

His gaze wandered upward to the stands and met hers. A small nod. Barely more than a movement of his chin, so subtle that no one could have noticed.

But Valentina understood what he wanted to tell her. She had played her part in helping the king get what he wanted.