Parchment and Palisades

The Chancellor

The Bog Land wasn't the true name of Roxy's country. It was technically called Filtland, but few remembered that. And it wasn't only swamps. There were beaches and knolls and one or two mountains. But it was mostly swamps and bogs and marshes and the like. Such was the capital city of Swampvale.

Roxy was chancellor of Filtland, which basically meant that they were of the highest command. There were the Reigndants, of course. The councilors who they had to seek approval from for military action and major laws.

In the Bog Land, the chancellor was elected by the people. They did not choose the role, though. The citizens would elect a a person and if the winner declined the position, the runner up would be placed in the Chancillor's Estate and so on and on and on down the line until someone accepted the job. Roxy had been the fifth choice.

Needless to say, it was a complicated, unfavorable process. Roxy was in the process of making it more voluntary.

But their plans would have to stall. Someone had claimed the Nitonian throne. Someone that no one in any of the kingdoms had heard of before. So the High Thrones wanted to meet him, and Roxy had offered to host. They'd been chancellor for a few years now and had one of the largest homes. After the Nitonian palace and Summit Towers, which had both just been filled by new monarchs, and the Sanguisian castle, but no one was stupid enough to go there.

So, two days before the event, Roxy had to start organizing. They had to judge a musical competition for who would be performing for the visiting royalty. And they also had to pick decor and menus and other forms of entertainment. But Hazel was coming a day early to help. So Roxy went to the town square and watched the performances.

The winner was an orchestra from Chlenton that could play nearly any kind of  music.

They chose an obsidian theme, since Nitonians tended to be fond of dark colors, so there were black tablecloths and obsidian or black marble or black iron tableware on the way to the palace. Golden candelabras would be imported from nearby Brachanta to be used instead of the usual brass ones made in Filtland. They looked better with black. And an arrangement of pale flowers like lilies and daisies would be brought in from a local florist the day of the event.

The next day, a maid awoke the chancellor, saying that there was a woman in a purple tunic at the door. This woman, of course, was Crown Ouroboros. She had evidently left her carriage on the outskirts of town and carried her things—a heavy chest and her royal banner (which was mounted on a traditional iron pole arm)—to the palace herself. She wore no crown and no armor, but her belt buckle resembled a dragon's head, so those who knew her title caught the joke. Hazel loved jokes and thought herself quite funny. No one could argue with that claim.

Roxy wrapped their friend in a hug and the two exchanged fond greetings. The Synneffan ruler was invited inside and offered breakfast, which Hazel eagerly accepted.

So the two leaders sat across from each other at the banquet table and talked about the books they'd recently read. Roxy was finishing off a story about forbidden love and Hazel had recently read a series of very thick novels. She was disappointed that they'd only taken her a few months.

After breakfast, Chancellor Roxy and Crown Ouroboros walked into town. The Boggish leader was now dressed in a mud-green peacoat and brown pants. Hazel still wore her purple shirt and tan pants with the ouroboros belt. The only part of her ensemble that didn't make her look like any other commoner was the jeweled gladius in her belt. It had been her weapon since she was thirteen and by Synneffan tradition, princesses could only wield rapiers. So, of course, Hazel had named her gladius Rapier.

Roxy chucked to themself at the memory.

The pair arrived at the first restaurant they would be looking at within a twenty-minute walk. It was a small place owned and run by a single family who raised the cattle they used in their city-famous soup. Hazel and Roxy had eaten there when they were children.

They opened the door and smiled at the old woman behind the counter. Two small soups were ordered and delivered quickly and eaten just as fast. Hazel paid with five Synneffan gold coins—far more than the soup actually cost—while Roxy handed the waitress a piece of paper inviting them to cater the upcoming event. Ingredients would be provided from the best farms in both their countries.

The next place they checked was a seafood restaurant by the docks. There was a pirate ship sailing away as they entered. Hazel watched for a second before walking into the eatery.

The friends ordered an appetizer platter and talked about their thoughts on this new king of Niton.

"I don't trust him as far as I can throw him," declared the Synneffan.

Roxy had to laugh. "Hazel, you don't trust anyone new. Or most of the old ones."

Hazel offered a wry smile.

"Not saying I trust him either. But I'll give him a chance."

"I give them all a chance, Rox. But I have low expectations. Besides, knowing those Darkcrawlers, he's probably some old serpent." She punctuated the last word by impaling a fried shrimp on her fork as though she were chopping off a snake's head, spitting it out like acid.

"Don't be sour, Hazel. Surely he's not too bad."

The Crown's laugh was bitter, "Ha! You've clearly never encountered one of them. Especially one of the noblemen. Sexist pigs, all of them. I don't know how Gracie stood them."

"They didn't. Ran away, remember?" Roxy plucked a sushi roll off Hazel's plate.

"Yeah." The shrimp was drenched in cocktail sauce by the time it made it to Hazel's mouth. She washed it down with a long draw of water.

They paid, gave the waiter the invitation to cater, and returned to the Chancillor's Estate. Hazel slept in a guest room.