Alphonse Pembroke ran a finger up and down the seam of his pants anxiously in the back of the limousine, swaying occasionally as the vehicle found a bump in the country road. He had tried looking out the window, but had only managed a few minutes before giving up and drawing the blinds. The journey was one he had made before and there was only so many times one could enjoy the scenery of the same fields of poppies and stands of birch trees. He had only managed a few minutes before he drew the blinds. Safely ensconced in his small sphere of privacy, a mixture of morbid fascination and lingering shock kept drawing his eyes to the copy of The Old Prospect Journal beside him.
“Ezra Hambleton Found Dead in Home” proclaimed the headline. Accompanying it was a photograph of a still living Ezra Hambleton. The article that followed only briefly touched upon the still unclear circumstances of his death before recapping what everyone who paid attention to these sorts of things already knew full well: that Hambleton’s investment firm had crashed along with the fortunes of its investors like Alphonse and that now, seemingly impossibly, things could only get worse with the man’s death.
Alphonse had lost track of how many times he had reread that article, replayed the moment when the House’s accountant had broken the news to him, how many hours of sleep he had lost worrying about this. For all the pomp and circumstance, House Pembroke’s finances were under the gilded veneer quite flimsy. When family politics had driven Alphonse’s ancestor Emperor Maximilian to shift the title of Duke of Macovy from the main Pembroke family line to a cadet branch, stretching from his second son down to Alphonse, the immense wealth of the imperial household had not followed. A free flow of gifts and patronage had compensated for this in the past, but with each passing decade the imperial branch of the house seemed to grow more aloof and stingy.
Not that Alphonse could entirely blame them. His father and grandfather had both been notoriously indiscriminate in their spending. When the damage they had wrought was combined with the current fiasco things looked grim. There were enough liquid reserves that his family was not in danger of being put out on the streets. Yet the blow to the house’s prestige if the damage was not controlled promptly could be immeasurable, and on the Ducal Council they lived and breathed the stuff.
His reexamination of the article was interrupted by the limousine turning, slowing and coming to a halt, something Alphonse knew meant they were at the final checkpoint. A moment of muffled conversation from up front was followed by another minute of motion and turns before things came to a second and final rest. The door was opened by some unseen footman, and Alphonse swung himself out of the vehicle. There he promptly found himself face to chest with who knew how many pounds of fur and muscle that some enterprising tailor had managed to fit into a three piece suit.
Alphonse still was not certain what whim had possessed to hire a Hemlander for a butler, but to his chagrin he honestly could not say he was surprised by it. The man never seemed to realize how serious these things were. This was the sort of thing people talked about. Alphonse didn’t object to hiring Hemlanders as a whole, but they ought to be things like gamekeepers, out of the way and working where their feral instincts to their advantage. Not working the front of the house where they might chew up some poor guest’s dress.
The beast—or “Sasha” as his employer’s family had taken to affectionately calling him, presumably, Alphonse assumed, because his actual name was some humanly unpronounceable sequence of barks and howls—gave a stiff half bow and growled out his best greeting. “Welcome, your highness, His Majesty has been expecting you.”
Alphonse returned a thin and insincere smile. “And yet he isn’t here to greet me in person as usual.”
Sasha’s expression didn’t change as he continued his part of their polite charade. “I’m sorry your highness, but the Her Majesty is very adamant about tea with the family at two sharp. I have already seen to preparing a place for you to join them. If you would be so kind as to follow me.” He gestured towards a garden path that wound through a planting of flowerbeds and around the corner of the manor.
“How thoughtful of you,” replied Alphonse as graciously as he could muster, and let the butler lead him down the path he already knew full well.
The sounds of the pair’s feet trodding on the flagstones soon mixed with those of light conversation and silverware clattering on china. Another corner, and they walked out onto a garden terrace, in the middle of which stood a wrought iron table covered by an umbrella and heaped with an array of sweets and tableware. Three figures were seated around it, a man, a woman and a young girl. They were chuckling at some just missed joke when Sasha cleared his throat and interrupted.
“Excuse me Your Majesty, but may I present Duke Alphonse.” The diners all looked up, and the man got up with a cheerful smile.
Emperor Fredrick could have easily passed for Alphonse’s twin. The two would have looked virtually identically if he had not grown a neat mustache and wore glasses while Alphonse remained clean shaven and without any vision problems. Their male lines may have split generations ago, but since the two branches of the house had danced around each other, passing daughters between each other through intermediary families. As a consequence, Fredrick was not only Alphonse’s second cousin but his fifth as well, and who knew how many beyond that since lost to time.
“Thank you Sasha,” began Fredrick with a quick nod to the Hemlander before turning to Alphonse. “Al, we’ve been wondering when you’d show up. Here, have a seat and make yourself at home.” He pulled out an empty seat in front of an untouched spot, just as Sasha had promised. Alphonse accepted the offer with a mumbled word of thanks.
“It’s so good to see you Alphonse,” said the woman with smile when he had sat down. She nudged the girl sitting next to her, who had so far been too engrossed in her current slice of cake to say a word. “Sabine, say hello to your uncle.“
“Hewwo Ungwe Awwonse” she mumbled through a mouth full of cake. This immediately earned a reproachful frown from the girl’s mother, but Alphonse intervened before she could be chided.
“It’s good to see you as well Sofia,” said Alphonse with a smile, this time sincere if weak. “And you as well Sabine. I was told to expect the entire family.”
“I’m afraid the other three are still off at school right now,” answered Sofia “If you’d visited next week they’d have been here.” The exchange of pleasantries was interrupted by a Sasha, still looming neatly at beside the table.
“Do you require anything else, Your Majesty?”
“No, everything’s fine for now,” replied Fredrick, retaking his seat. “Thank you Sasha, you can go now.” The butler gave another of his trademark stiff bows, and padded off. When he had gone, Fredrick turned back to Alphonse, pushing a bowl of chocolate truffles towards him. “You must be hungry after the drive, help yourself to anything.” Alphonse simply frowned.
“I’m sorry Fredrick, but I can’t say I’m hungry. You know why I’m here.”
“What, that business with Hambleton?” Fredrick shook his head and tutted. “Terrible, isn’t it? I met the man once I think, perfectly amiable. But the rumors flying around about it, now those are something! Just yesterday I heard that the ceiling pipe actually broke and—”
“Fredrick!” Sofia intervened with a sharp cry of alarm. “I don’t think this is an appropriate topic to discuss in front of Sabine.” Sabine for her part seemed more interested in the marzipan fruit she had moved on to after finishing her cake than the conversation around here.
“Sonya, she’s 12 now, almost a teenager! She has has to grow up some—” began Fredrick with a dismissive half wave of the hand before he caught the expression on his wife’s face and caught his tongue. “I’m sorry, you’re right,” he said and placed a reassuring hand on her knee. "Listen, I think it’s about time for Sabine’s violin lessons anyway, and I know you need to see your seamstress about your dress for the gala in Wolchegrad. How about we call it a day for afternoon tea and you can take care of that while I talk to Al about this?”
Despite the doubt on her face Sofia placed her hand on his and nodded. The two exchanged a chaste kiss before she got up, and daughter in tow, walked up the terrace steps and into the house. Once he was sure they were out of earshot Fredrick resume speaking immediately.
“Now, where was I? Oh right, the pipe. I heard that it broke and—” Alphonse snapped.
“Dammit Fredrik, this isn’t something to gossip about over tea like a couple of debutantes! Do you realize how serious it is?” Fredrick blinked a few times. The shock of the sudden outburst was plainly imprinted on his face. When he found his voice again the a bit of the vim was missing from his words.
“I’ve heard some people lost quite a bit, yes, but I’ve already checked with my accountants and our accounts are quite secure.” Alphonse closed his eyes and tried not to audibly sigh. What had he been expecting after this man had all but ignored his attempts to speak seriously with him remotely for a week?
“It’s not your accounts I’m worried about, everyone already knows those are fine. And it’s not just ‘quite a bit’, for some people it’s more like ‘everything’ or damn close, including me.”
“Including you?” Fredrick’s eyebrows rose. “You’re Duke of Macovy, a Pembroke, surely one sunk investment won’t ruin you?”
“Not financially no, but…” Alphonse clasped his hands in front of his mouth and exhaled, recentering himself. “Fredrick, half the Ducal Council is in an uproar over this. Some of them are even starting to whisper about a wider panic. I know you get reports, but I don’t think you can fully appreciate how serious this is without seeing them arguing about it firsthand.”
Over the course of the argument Fredrick’s cheerful expression had been fading, and was beginning to approach a mixture of confusion annoyance. “I’m sorry I can’t attend every meeting in person, but I’m the Emperor, I have a very busy schedule.”
“Yes, you are Emperor, and you need to start acting like it. It’s been a whole week and you haven’t done anything to stop these rumors.”
“I’ve already spoken with the very best from the Imperial Academy’s Faculty of Finance, and they’ve assured me there’s no danger of a wider panic—”
“People still need to hear you say that Fredrick, not a crusty professor no one’s ever heard of!” Alphonse’s exasperation got the better of him a second time as his voice rose again. He regretted it when he saw the expression on Fredrick’s face. Despite his attempts to maintain his composure, the Emperor looked all too much like a guilty child who’d been caught doing something he knew was wrong. May God bless and keep the Emperor—far away from someone who might see this. “Look Fredrick, I’m sorry—” Fredrick interrupted the apology with a dismissive wave and sigh.
“No, no, you’re quite right,” he said, followed by a mutter of “you’re always right.” There was another sigh and a period of silence as he drained the last dregs of tea his cup. “God Al, I do try you know. Everyday I try and it never seems to be enough. Sometimes I feel like this country is headed nowhere good, and there’s nothing I can do to save it, and it frightens me.” He bit his lip and then shook his head. “Sometimes I think Old Max should have switched whom he gave which crown so you’d be Emperor instead.” Alphonse cringed.
“Don’t ever say that, Fredrick, you know as damn well as I do that it’s nonsense.” He only half believed what he was saying, but said it with full conviction in his voice. “People need to see the strength in their Emperor right now. And the best way you can do that is to issue the statement that all of the Imperial Academy’s best agree, there’s no wider panic coming.” Fredrick nodded. His mouth was smiling again, but his eyes were drained and defeated.
“Yes, of course. It’ll be my very first order of business for tomorrow. But right now, now that Sonya and Sabine are gone, I think I’d like a stiff drink. Will you join me?”
“Gladly,” replied Alphonse, “I think both of us would benefit from that.”
