The Queen's Line (Inheritance of Hunger #1) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,35

to keep the position.

"Forgo the taxes?" she breathed.

"I've dismissed Sir Hubert as steward of the Winter Palace, and I…suppose I will be in need of another. But I'm not entirely sure what kind of state the coffers are in or what I'll need the steward to be handling while I'm in residence. Also, there is the matter of the ban on hunting in the woods. I'd like it to be lifted, but I am concerned that might lead to a rush that's not sustainable. I was thinking of appointing a royal hunter who might…donate the meat to the citizens in some way."

Cosmo's hand passed gently over my shoulder, and I looked up to see the laughter in his eyes and the gentle smile. "Mistress Sanders looks as though she might faint."

She did look pale, and I wondered if she'd heard everything I said or if she was still stuck on the bit about the taxes. "A…royal hunter who gives his catch to the citizens?" she murmured.

Oh good, she had caught that part. "Yes, I know. I haven't sorted out how it would be most widely beneficial yet, but I'm open to input."

"I…I accept the position of Northern Magistrate, Your—Princess Bryony. And I will happily make the announcement of taxes being waived. I do… I am aware," Rebecca began cautiously, pulling a bound book out of a drawer of the desk, “that Sir Hubert borrowed against the Winter Palace's coffers. There was also a great deal transferred south last year. The current total is…not impressive," she said, turning the book to face me.

Wendell hummed, and I realized as I stared at the numbers that I had little to no idea what any of it meant. I could do that math, but in terms of what it would cost to maintain the castle versus what was available? I was lost. I turned to Wendell, and he frowned at me.

"It's…it's enough for good wages to the current staff and good meals, I would guess to last us through winter. Not much else," he said.

"Then that's where it will have to go," I said, nodding. Wendell smiled, and Rebecca's eyes volleyed between us as I turned to her again. "Waive taxes until the harvest and we'll revisit the subject then. As for the steward…I'd rather not leave it to the council to decide. I'm not a great fan of their first choice."

"Let me think of a few people, and I'll send them up to the palace for an interview?" Rebecca suggested. "There is—if you're considering lifting the ban on hunting, I wonder if you'd be willing to consider waiving some of the upcoming poaching convictions. In particular, there is a young boy, under sixteen, who is the sole provider for his younger siblings and—"

"Oh! Pardon him, please," I said, sitting forward.

Rebecca sighed and nodded. "I hoped you might say that. Yes, gladly."

I smiled at her, and she answered in kind, the first smile on her lips since our arrival on her doorstep. I wondered if Rebecca Sanders' late husband would've been as agreeable to work with as she was, but either way, I was glad to have her as a resource now.

We stayed with Mistress Sanders for almost another hour, and it was Wendell and Cosmo who managed to lead the conversation after my initial planning outburst. Rebecca confirmed that as crown princess, I had the power to lift bans and rearrange my court as I pleased, it was just that I wouldn't be currying favor with the council for every change I made.

"I think I need to meet the council for myself," I said, frowning as we got into the carriage again. "But not just yet. I want to have a better handle on what's going on and what needs changed."

"You're doing good work already, Bryony," Wendell said, following me in.

"He's right. And Rebecca Sanders is closer to the collective ear of Rumsbrooke than any council member," Cosmo added.

Cresswell, who'd remained mostly silent and watchful during the meeting, was closing the door behind Wendell when I remembered there was one more stop I wanted to make while we were in the city.

"Guard Stark, will you take us to the Wing and Roost?"

"The—the tavern, Your Highness?" Cresswell's brow furrowed beneath the gleaming brass helmet he wore.

"And inn, yes," I said nodding.

"It's in a very unsavory neighborhood, even for Rumsbrooke," Cresswell said, standing at the open door.

"That's all right. You and the guards may remain with the carriage while my Chosen and I go in