Young Writers Society

Pires was silent for so long that Erson leaned forward slightly and said, “I gather I’m missing something. What has a spider with a tail – while scientifically intriguing – got to do with the ambassador?”

Buck looked to Pires, wondering if he should let her tell the story. His memories of meeting his dad that day were vague. He strongly remembered a hand on his back shoving him quickly around, and also shushing him every time he tried to say anything. But mostly he’d just been asking where they were going, which had been answered with a stronger push in the direction they were already headed. But other than the actual conversation with his father, he remembered very little else about how it had all been arranged.

“All this time trying to fix my father’s mistake and it was your father’s mistake all along,” Pires muttered, barely looking up from the table.

“Okay,” Buck said, turning to Erson. “I’ll take this. Do you remember thirteen years ago the then Duke of Resador got into a bit of bother with a nation to the south?”

“Thirteen years ago I was thirteen years old,” Erson said.

Buck nodded. “Fair enough.” He started to relate the events of the encounter with the Borias – his father’s initial expedition, their return, how they found the land now populated. He got as far as the Resadorian ship returning, followed by the Boriasen, then paused.

“Why have you stopped?” Erson asked. “And why did so much of that rhyme?”

“Sorry, slipped into the song a bit,” Buck said. “I stopped because I have a feeling this is where Pires and I’s information might start to differ. Shall I just go for it?”

“Yes,” Pires said, her voice very clipped, “Please.”

“Well, my father asks for me and my mum, I guess. To say goodbye and stuff,” Buck said.

“Because the Borias were insisting on keeping your father as punishment, right?” Erson said.

Buck shifted in his chair. “Well, that’s the story everyone knows. So it’s the one I tell when I sing. But the truth is that my father refused to give up something, something with eight legs and a tail. When I was saying goodbye he slipped her to me.”

Erson steepled his hands beneath his chin. “I see. That does make sense for the Duke to keep quiet, if even he knows. Important enough to keep quiet even from his own- wait a second. If you have the spider now, why would they hold your father?”

Buck frowned. Was that really the point? “Well, he still took it.”

“Yes, but they couldn’t prove it anymore,” Erson said. “I’m no diplomatic strategist like the two of you, but if my parents had been told that one of their own was being abducted for a theft that there was no proof they had committed, they’d have done something.”

“Erson, I really don’t see how this is the point,” Buck snapped. He immediately gasped, like he was trying to suck all the words back in. “Sorry… It’s a touchy subject.”

Erson, bless him, didn’t press it further. Instead he said, “Well, whatever happened, I’m guessing you’d rather the ambassador not discover your little arachnid?”

Buck cleared his throat. “Indeed, indeed. I was very firm with her this morning about not getting discovered, but I guess all she heard was the concern in my voice and she didn’t want to leave me alone.”

“That sounds very complex for an invertebrate,” Erson said.

“She is very, very clever,” Buck said, giving her a little scratch. “Although admittedly this wasn’t one of her brightest moments. She just really likes curry, y’know.”

“Almost a shame you won’t be able to ask the ambassador about her,” Erson said. Then he shrugged. “I suppose you could say it was an academic interest.”

Buck’s eyebrows closed in on each other as his eyes narrowed. He’d been getting to know Erson well over the past couple of months, but there were still many moments in which he couldn’t quite read him. Was he warning Buck that he planned on telling the ambassador about Simone? He could understand Erson doing so, but hinting like this was all kinds of ambiguous.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be able to find a place to keep her hidden over lunch,” Pires said, loudly tapping her desk with the tip of her index finger. “And there shall be no further discussion of this.”

Erson turned back towards Pires, nodded, then sank back down into his chair with his hands beneath his chin again. Buck glanced towards him every so often as Pires and himself resumed their conversation, but for the next hour or so he was completely still. As they finally got up to head to the courtyard Buck had absolutely no idea what Erson was planning.

They walked with Pires and Erson next to each other, Buck in tow just behind. After the discussion about Simone one of the things they’d talked about was how they would present their dynamic. As much as they were meant to be prioritising honesty, it didn’t seem like describing themselves as court jester, scheming duchess and reluctant fiancé was going to work out for anybody. And so they were a happy couple – not necessarily happy together, but both happy with the arrangement – and Buck was Buttane, the loyal advisor who was helping said arrangements come about.

He’d also left his bucket in the hands of Victane, with Simone inside, as his shift had started just after Buck reached the palace that morning. He had taken the bucket down to where Victane was posted before the time to meet the ambassador came, and warned him that it currently had an inhabitant. With raised eyebrows, Victane promised not to ask any questions.

Just as Pires had come to meet them when they returned from the Royal Valley, the three of them walked into the centre of the courtyard to meet the ambassador, whose carriage was scheduled to be on its way up from the docks. There were parallel lines of people snaking up the hill that led down to the beach. Buck screwed up his eyes and followed the lines until he spotted the carriage – at least, he thought it was a carriage.

It was a wooden structure that seemed to have chairs or stools mounted in, so far so good. But he could not see a single wheel, despite a wheel-sized gap between the carriage and the ground. Its motion forward was uneven, as was often true for carriages rumbling along, but not the sort of bumping and jostling that might happen across rubble and potholes. It was more of a bobbing slowly up and down in the air, as if it had a limit both of how high it could go and how low, and when either limit was reached it had to change its course and go the opposite way. Up a few feet, down a few feet, all the way along the road until it reached the courtyard.

“Wow,” Erson murmured. “What in the world is that?”

Buck didn’t answer, partially because he had no idea and partially because he didn’t want to disrupt Erson’s wonder.

Pires, unfazed, was as professionally in greeting mode as ever. She walked forward with long, even strides, until she was just in front of the carriage. The carriage floated slowly to the ground and its driver opened a door to her right, then stepped out onto the cobblestones.

Given that she was the only occupant of the carriage, Buck assumed this was the ambassador, but you couldn’t have told from her clothes. She wore a simple grey top, tucked into some tight auburn trousers. Buck started as he realised that really wasn’t far off Erson’s outfit, even if his trousers were a bit thicker and a duller brown. Oddly enough, her high cheekbones and dark skin were just as similar to Pires’s, though her hair was in braids rather than layers of frizz. She was also a good bit older than Pires, Buck thought. Somewhere in her forties or fifties.

“Kind greetings,” Pires said, holding out her hand. “I am Pires of Resador. This is Prince Erson, and my chief advisor, Buttane, who will be in charge of the logistics of your stay and any other arrangements.”

The ambassador shook Pires’s hand with a smile. “Nice to see you again. Or have you forgotten me? My name is Alkset and I came as part of the escorting party fifteen years ago. I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing.”

Pires tittered slightly. “Oh my word, I do recognise you, now that I think about it. I thank you for your words for my father, even if you might not mean them.”

The ambassador’s eyes widened and darted around a bit as she took her hand back. “Well, I mean, I didn’t know him especially well… and yes we had our differences… but I do regret his passing. I’m sure that if given a bit longer he could have got himself organised enough to actually connect us to your head of state, as you’re doing now.”

“Thank you, and sorry for making things awkward already,” Pires said, smiling and meeting Alkset’s gaze.

Alkset’s eyes settled back down and her smile returned. “That is alright. I’m sure we’ll get used to each other before long.”

“Indeed, indeed. Especially since I’m doing as you ask and connecting you to our head of state.” Pires nudged Erson, who was still staring at the carriage.

“Oh right, hello, yes. Sorry,” Erson said. He stepped forward and offered his hand. “Not quite head of state, but one day. Not that I wish for my parents to- wow, going to stop there. I think parents might be a no-go area for a while, eh, Pires? So, um, Alkset, that’s a terrific set of wheels. Well, not wheels, in fact, but you know what I mean.”

Buck closed his eyes, repressing a sigh. He should never have let these two go off script.

Alkset looked back at her vehicle, then turned to Erson again. “Yes, we can talk about technology. In fact, I thought perhaps you might be rather interested in technology, Buttane, given that that was your father’s specialty.”

Buck jolted out of his slump. “I – wait – you remember me? You were here? But I was only briefly around… Just the one conversation with my father…”

Alkset took a deep breath, blowing it back out of puffed out cheeks. “Okay, that one was my fault. No more talk of parents, I promise. Shall we go inside?”