Wisdom's Kiss (28 page)

One cannot take the imperial throne as a lowly
duke
—we must be
kings
to manage this—and that title comes solely via
marriage to a queen
—which that idiot
Wisdom
most certainly is not!

Although—Montagne, with all its bleatings about feminine parity, may yet be turned in our favor.

The fact that
Princess
Wisdom does not occupy the throne means only she does not occupy it
yet
—her listless sister
Temperance
is all that blocks her way—

I must muse upon this most artful course of action...

8
TH EDITION

Printed in the Capital City of Rigorus
by Hazelnut & Filbert, Publishers to the Crown

MONTAGNE
>

The
Kingdom of Montagne
is the oldest continuously held domain in the
Empire of Lax
, predating by 163 years the establishment of the imperial federation. Unlike its neighbors, Montagne accepted the empire's sovereignty without dispute, joining its mail service, adopting imperial currency, and, with one notable exception, espousing the principles of imperial jurisprudence. That exception is, of course, female succession, a convention the kingdom resolutely maintains despite its affront to every principle of decency and governance.
Indeed, the kingdom will even crown a firstborn daughter over younger sons and send its queens into battle, Queen Compassion famously declaring during the Siege of Cheese that "any strumpet can brace a shield." For many centuries the kingdom claimed a connection to sorcery. Virtue, foundress of Montagne, asserted on innumerable occasions that she was a witch, and furthermore that magic flowed in the blood of her descendants. Early Montagne historians credited supernatural forces for the kingdom's victories in such battles as the
Drachensbett Cloud Wars
and the Magnanimous Goat Incident. Within modern Montagne, however, such babble of witchcraft is treated with derision, and its now-rational rulers ascribe past success to geography, military prowess, and not-inconsiderable—if inconsistent—good luck.
The kingdom's long-standing pacifism has been repeatedly challenged, most notably by the surrounding kingdom of
Drachensbett
, whose many attempts at conquest were rendered moot during the reign of Queen Benevolence when Montagne, in a stunning turn of events, absorbed its larger foe.

>

THE BOOTED MAESTRO

Dear Trudy,

Its been so long I know I shouldve written sooner
Im sorry I havent written much in the last months—I didnt think we would be so busy! But I dont mind because Im making even more
tips
money.
Felis
works us so hard—he must say
work harder Tomas
50 times a day! Or he says that hes wasted the
last 6 years of his life on me
and that
the empire would be far better off if Id stayed home grinding wheat
but I know thats not true + hes just saying that to make me
consen consan
concentrate. At least I
think
hope he is! At least he doesnt mind my using his
stationary stationerie
writing paper—maybe thats his way of saying hes not too cross.

I wish I could describe how
strange
different the Sultanate of
Ahmb
is, the smells + the feeling + the people. Its nothing like Bacio, thats for sure! Or anywhere in Lax for that matter! Its so hot here even at night—when I get back from
work
guard duty I cant bear even to light a candle. But today I have a holiday + Im sitting in the bazaar drinking tea with a bundle of presents for you + Hans + Jens—I think
its obvious
you can figure out who gets what!

Im so
disappointed upset
sorry to hear Hans didnt like the watch I sent, I can just hear him saying
why does a miller need to know the time?
Maybe someday he will like it. At least I
know
hope you liked the ribbons! No one here has hair
so red
your color, if you came here youd have to hide it or the sultan would
kidnap steal you away
make you one of his wives. I wish I could show you the gift he gave the emperor, its the most amazing thing Ive ever seen—I got to see him give it too, as I was
working
guarding the emperor that night.
His
majesty gave him a gift almost as nice: a clock made in
Pamplemousse
, with 12 gold birds with ruby eyes that sing the time. If everyone got wedding presents like that, Id
get married
be really happy for them.

You keep asking when Im going to return to Alpsburg + Im sorry but I dont think Ill make it back this year either.
Another
year, I know, but its
for the best
so difficult to get away. Please dont be sad. I think of you all the time + hope youre doing well. Im truly sorry Im not able to return. Maybe the fabric will help—
I know it wont make up for me
its the best I can do. Women here—rich women I think from the looks of them—use fabric like this for veils. They cover their faces but you can still see how pretty they are. But no ones as pretty as you—

—
Tips

8
TH EDITION

Printed in the Capital City of Rigorus
by Hazelnut & Filbert, Publishers to the Crown

ALPSBURG
>

A province located in the central mountains of Lax,
Alpsburg
contains the only navigable pass through the Alpsburg Mountains south of Devil's Rift and is thus essential when the Great River is in flood or ice. The land has been inhabited since ancient times.
For centuries autonomous, recognizing the imperial throne, the country was absorbed by the adjoining
Barony of Farina
after Roberto the Lonely died without issue in Year 3 of the reign of Rüdiger II. Alpsburg produces wheat, lumber, wool, and stone in abundance, although the bulk of the province's revenue has historically been drawn from tolls.
The province's former capital,
Alpsburgstadt
, remains a center of trade, and the village of
Bacio
serves an important if seasonal function as the western terminus of Alpsburg Pass.
The lyric poem "Bacio mi amore" by Rundel of
Gebühr
describes the peerless beauty of this village, though his words should be interpreted in light of the poet's relief at surviving a late spring blizzard while crossing the pass.
The village is the birthplace of the renowned swordsman-artiste Tomas Müller and Fortitude of Bacio, the alleged
seeress
; and the two, remarkably enough, were childhood friends.

>

To My Dearest Temperance, Queen of Montagne,

Granddaughter
, this slog toward Wisdom's nuptials, though not half-completed, has been most memorable—that I can assure you—and if by some blessing I manage to survive it, I shall regale you for hours with tales of our misadventures. I trust you are enjoying your newfound solitude, and I cannot wait to hear of your many successes as queen. As I have droned to you on occasions past counting, the decision to govern must come from within, and without your sister casting her gregarious if irreverent shadow upon the chateau, I know you will thrive as does a flower in fresh sunshine. Please comfort yourself with the knowledge that whatever matters of state might occupy you, they are surely more pleasurable than this trip.

You doubtless recall that our departure from Montagne was without incident, and the barge—quite handsome, freshly painted, with large and comfortable quarters—appeared undeniably regal even to my ancient and jaded eyes. Certainly the farmers and bargemen we passed seemed to think so, and it was uplifting indeed to accept their congratulations and best wishes. If there is any private resentment within our nation, it must be quite private indeed, to judge from the enthusiasm of the citizens—yea, and foreigners—we encountered.

Would I had curtailed my good cheer, for soon enough the fates punished my optimism.
One day past
Bridgeriver
, the river was running so high that we feared to remain aboard our vessel, and only then did we learn that the spring rains, while abundant in Montagne, have been of historic and terrifying volume in greater Farina and that Devil's Rift was therefore navigable only to madmen. Why our pilot, hired in Bridgeriver, had declined to reveal this critical piece of information I cannot imagine, for the gold he hoped to gain for his service was most certainly not forthcoming. Our royal ancestors would have taken much pride in the lashing I gave the man—only with words, though had I possessed a crop the punishment would have done credit to a boatswain. In any event, thus stranded in the forests of Pneu, we were forced to return to Bridgeriver by foot and farmer's cart (pig farmer, should you desire that olfactory detail), our trunks in a precarious and swaying heap. Nor was the riverfront inn in which we spent the night quite of Montagne's standards—I fear the ladies Patience and Modesty were quite decimated by bedbugs, or so it appeared the following morning.

At last we arrived, again, in Bridgeriver, where it took all our efforts to acquire a vehicle for crossing Alpsburg Pass. Given that their requirement of tribute has increased with every annum, the fine residents of Bridgeriver lose no love on the Duke of Farina, and fretted not at all that they were delaying the man's union with his betrothed. After two days of negotiation—the mayor of Bridgeriver puts to shame the haggling of every wool merchant I might name—we acquired a carriage and set out. Last night we sojourned in the manor house of the Baronet of Savory, a most ill-suited name given that the dinner he served would have disappointed a prisoner.
Tonight—our last in
Pneu
, I dearly hope—we shall stay in the mountain hamlet of
Frizzante
, which I hear tell contains an excellent tavern, and a treat it will be to dine as I am so indulgently accustomed.