[Lauchenoiria]

Royal Palace, Zongongia

The King of Zongongia was hardly used to fearing a conversation. He had little official duties beyond ceremony, and most conversations he had were either pleasant or, at worst, boring. As such, he was unused to the emotions he felt at this moment. He kept trying to make himself go to Carmen Robinson’s rooms to discuss his son’s… desire. And each and every time, he chickened out and walked away.

In truth, he feared her reaction. He did not quite understand Kerlians; no man ever could. He knew, however, that if the Robinsons had not been exiled, that Natasha would have been legally unable to marry Kristofer. And so, to even ask the question was to remind the former Councillor of Kerlile of her situation. Given that her situation involved permanent exile after almost a year of being tortured… he was in no hurry to do so.

He’d asked his son to hold off on any proposal until he gauged whether or not this would even be possible. Prince Kristofer had stubbornly refused to be talked out of the whole thing. He was deeply in love. As much as the situation made King Osvald nervous and uncertain, he did not want to deny his son true love, if there was any way to do this without causing an international crisis.

Once again, he raised his hand as if to knock on Carmen’s door, and then froze. Unfortunately for him, Carmen chose that very moment to open the door. The pair stared at each other for a second, until Osvald coughed and lowered his arm.

“Good morning,” he said to the former Councillor.

“Good morning, your majesty. I was just off to get breakfast. Did you need something?” Carmen asked smoothly. She seemed calm and collected at the moment, which was a good thing. He’d had reports from the servants that sometimes she would, well, scream and cry for hours; her mind far away. Such things were to be expected, in her situation, of course.

“Ah, yes, I was hoping we could… I was hoping we could talk in private?” he asked. She seemed to notice his nervousness, and adopted a mildly quizzical expression.

“Of course, your majesty,” Carmen said, stepping aside and gesturing for him to pass. He took a deep breath and did so.

Carmen’s rooms were very well-lit. She had all the curtains drawn back, and an excessive number of lamps dotted around. Evidently, she did not enjoy darkness. The King sat down on one of the armchairs by the windows, and Carmen sat opposite him, watching him with curiosity.

“Carmen…” he began, then trailed off, uncertain what to say.

“Is something wrong, your majesty?” she asked.

“You don’t need to keep calling me that,” he chuckled. “Oh, I should just get this over with. Uh, your daughter Natasha.”

“Has she been pushing teenagers in fountains again for being racist? Because, while I have warned her about this, I am also not happy about the racism itself.”

“No, nothing like that. Uh, you know my son, Prince Kristofer?”

“Oh Goddess, she didn’t push him in a fountain, did she?”

“No, no! I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this. The difference between Zongongian and Kerlian tradition in this matter is making things… confusing. So, I apologise if this is overly blunt, but: Kristofer would like to propose to Natasha.”

The silence stretched seemingly forever. Then eternity ended, and Carmen burst into hysterical laughter. “Oh Goddess, that is not what I expected! You do realise that… ah, EUDCA no longer applies. Still, the idea of Natasha marrying… that is truly hilarious.”

“Um, I take it that means you oppose the idea?”

“Oppose it? That assumes such a thing would even be possible! I’m sorry,” Carmen tried to compose herself. “Natasha is eighteen. And Kerlian. There is no way she would accept a proposal from, no offence, a foreign male.”

“That is unfortunate,” the King said softly. “Kristofer will be disappointed. He believes they are in love with each other.”

“They may well be,” Carmen replied. “Natasha still has not given up hope that the Council will rescind their exile. If she marries any foreign male, that would end that chance permanently. And the Crown Prince of Zongongia? Again, I mean no offence, but such a thing could very well attract the ire of the Council’s assassins.”

That worried the King. The idea of Kerlian assassins coming – especially after the mailroom incident – to attack members of the Royal Family frightened him. For his life and family, and also for the security of his country. He thanked Carmen for listening, and quickly made his way out of the room, his mind spinning. What, exactly, could he do now?