The Cabinet Room was filled with needless commotion. Servants scurried in and out, noblemen sat on cushioned seats, engrossed in political chatter.
Everything seemed normal, just another day in the Palace.
Except, today, there was an extra seat next to the Head of the mighty table the nobles sat on.
On the left, precisely.
The door swung open, and the arrival of His Majesty the Emperor was announced.
Gregor Halycra strode in, the room instantly falling silent. Everyone stood up and bowed immediately.
After the usual courtly greetings, everyone sat down on their respective seats without another word, ready to start the meeting.
But just as all the chairs were being filled with noblemen, one specific seat was being avoided.
The one on the Emperor's left.
It was too lavish to be one for a courtier, but too mundane for a ruler.
The chair got many stares, as the Duke of Whitbourne stood up and cleared his throat.
"Good morning, Your Imperial Majesty and-"
Unexpectedly, the Emperor raised a hand.
The Duke paused. Everyone stirred, confused.
Charles Whitbourne, Duke of one of the oldest ducal houses of Halycra, Whitbourne. He was known for his calm and neutral demeanor; if he favored one side, he would never show it. Though Whitbourne wasn't militarily dominant, he was respected by almost all other ducal houses, since he didn't need armies to command attention.
Above all, he was trusted by the Emperor to run court meetings, set agendas, and subtly steer disputes without appearing biased.
"Is something the matter, Your Majesty?" he asked politely.
But the Emperor didn't need to answer
Suddenly, the door opened, and all the questions hanging heavily in the air were answered immediately.
Leander Halycra.
Heads bowed. Eyes tracked him as he strode to the vacant seat, taking his place beside his father, where he had always belonged.
When everyone was once again settled, the Emperor spoke up, "From today onward, the Crown Prince will attend the regular cabinet meetings. I understand there may be questions or objections, but I have determined that he is now old enough to begin learning the reins of monarchy."
All eyes snapped to Leander.
Which was understood. He was like a new piece on an already bustling chessboard. But whether he was a pawn or a player, that was solely up to him.
He nodded to Duke Whitbourne, "You may continue."
The Duke hesitated, and looked between the Prince and his Father.
The Emperor nodded.
The Duke cleared his throat, and restarted, "Once again, a pleasant morning to His Majesty, His Highness and all the gentlemen present here today."
The noblemen nodded, watching Leander, whose eyes were fixed on Whitbourne.
"Without further ado, let us begin the Biweekly Imperial Cabinet meeting. I must advise everyone to keep in mind professional protocol as they commence with discussions and debates. This is a space for justice, not conflict." he stated, the deep voice turning cold and professional.
"Before we proceed with the agenda, I would like to raise a few unresolved concerns from the previous meeting." He turned towards the Emperor, "Your Majesty?"
He nodded, "Continue."
As the meeting was being shifted back to normal, Leander assessed his standing in that room full of officials.
Right now, he was influential enough that his orders won't be disobeyed, but not enough for his words to be taken seriously.
He had to fix that. And soon.
The prince glanced around the table, registering new faces and remembering old ones.
On the Emperor's right was an empty chair. That was for the Empress. But today, she was absent. Leander heard she was with Aunt Luna and Aunt Thea.
Opposite it was Leander's own seat. Nothing out of the ordinary.
But from that point onwards is where the vultures sat.
"First things first, the matter of the Virelian Princess' Marriage. We have yet to decide an appropriate gift, as they are our neighbouring Empire, as well as the envoy to be sent."
Next to the Empress' seat, but at an appropriate distance, was Charles Whitbourne, his soft but firm voice bouncing off the walls.
"My suggestion still stands," Beside him was Sebastian Calvethra, his dark head turned in Whitbourne's direction, "Count Crispin is the most suitable candidate."
"I do not see why a Count should be sent as an envoy from Halycra." Henry Ashthorne was sitting after him, red hair falling to his shoulder in soft waves.
"If the individual is well suited for the occasion, his title should now matter," Cedric Heisenberg was next, his dark blue eyes sharp and focused as he listened, finger drumming against the table lightly.
"But My Lord, it may negatively affect the Halycran Empire's reputation," On the opposite side, next to Leander, sat Jonathan Montclair, his fine lips pursed in concentration.
"Lord Jonathan is right," Frederick Eastwell agreed, pushing his glasses up his fine nosebridge.
"Then who do we send? A Duke?" Christopher Greyhaven argued. His dark eyes scanned the room for objections.
"I think Duke Eastwell is quite ready for that task," Rowan Blackridge sneered, his sharp chin pointed in Eastwell's direction.
The Emperor sighed to himself. This is going to be a long meeting.
. . .
"...and ever since the funds had been cut down…"
Leander snapped back to Earth. He realized that he was doing the total opposite of what he was supposed to do, pay attention.
He needs to make his position clear.
"...the construction has taken a stop. What do you suggest we do?"
He took a deep breath, and tried to analyze what was going on through the officials' talking.
"We have to fit the budget, or expand the budget itself, and try to wrap up the construction within this week," Calvethra stated.
"I agree with His Grace, this matter has been causing an unnecessary ruckus in every meeting." Eastwell announced.
"But minimizing the budget will inevitably affect the quality of the work," Jonathan argued.
"Then what do you propose we do, Lord Jonathan?" Ashthorne asked aloud, "Since you will soon succeed your House, do you think there would be enough wealth in the Montclair coffers to solve this issue?"
The room shifted, taking on a different air. Jonathan stiffened.
"Duke Ashthorne," Whitbourne warned, "please mind your manners,"
"Lord Henry seems to have a lot in his name," Cedric spoke up, eyeing Duke Ashthorne, "weren't you the one who recently acquired a few more emerald mines? Lord Jonathan was only being realistic."
"Calm down, gentlemen," Duke Charles interceded, "this is a serious matter. Childish bickering will not get us anywhere."
Cedric leaned back, the stoic expression never leaving his face.
Henry Ashthorne, however, was looking for his new target.
"Since we all obviously lack the knowledge to deal with this predicament," he said, "how about the Crown Prince guide us on this matter?"
All eyes were now fixated on Leander. He raised a brow, unbothered.
"You flatter me, Duke Ashthorne. I am nowhere near as knowledgeable as you." he paused.
A smirk tugged at Ashthorne's lips, thinking he had won. Only until Leander completed his statement.
"But since you insist so much, I will gladly present my thoughts on the matter." he smiled coldly.
"The main issue here is funds, am I correct?" Heads nodded at his statement.
"My suggestion is, we leave the funds as is," he declared.
Ashthorne fought back his mirth, "Oh? How would that help in spe-"
"Lord Henry," there was a slight edge of warning in Leander's tone that made the court flinch and squirm in their seats, "have I finished speaking?"
"...No, Your Highness."
Oh goodie. He can assert his authority on others now. Thanks, old man Henry.
That was just one step in establishing his court reputation.
"As I was saying, we leave the funds as they are," he continued, "Instead, we tamper with the manpower."
He waited for a moment, letting that land, and then went on, "What we're worried about here is the quality of work and the time it takes. Since no decision will or can be perfect, we will have to compromise on some aspect one way or another."
"So His Highness is saying…"
"Decrease the amount of workers involved, and extend the deadline," he concluded, "That will ensure construction is done without flaw, but will slightly affect the time taken, all while being within budget."
The room went dead silent.
The Emperor lowered his head, hiding his smile.
Suddenly, someone started clapping at one end of the table.
Leander spun his head.
Cedric Heisenberg.
There was a twinkle in his eye as he applauded his cousin.
Soon, the rest followed suit, showering praises.
"As expected of our future Emperor!"
"Truly, he is as wise as his parents!"
"Only possible due to our rulers' excellent parenting."
Jonathan's lips curved in a small, approving smile, "How promising. Your Highness solved a problem that took us months of debates so simply."
Leander flushed slightly, unnerved, "Thank you, Lord Jonathan."
When he stepped in this room, applause was the last thing he expected. Now? He was being showered with it.
He took care to analyze the room even amongst the commotion, since he caught something invaluable.
Ashthorne was sitting back casually, picking at his nails. Blackridge was the same, eyeing Leander dangerously.
Leander met his eyes and held his stare, before giving him a mocking smile and looking away.
Two can play at that game.
As the commotion finally died down, everyone assumed their positions again.
"And… I believe that concludes the reports for this month," Whitbourne looked at a scroll in his hands, nodding his head.
"Very well," the Emperor announced, "You are all dismissed."
The Cabinet Room was noisy once again, as everyone got ready to take their leave. The Emperor rose from his seat.
But before he left, he turned and patted Leander on the shoulder.
"You did well, Crown Prince."
Leander blushed, and fidgeted with his hands, "...Thank you, Your Majesty."
He got up too as his Father left the room.
On the way out, he met Duke Heisenberg's eyes.
He winked.
He froze for half a heartbeat, then gave a sheepish smile before leaving the Cabinet Room.
Game on.