Council Open and Hidden
Eighteenth Day of the Fifth Month 294 AC
"The simple truth of the matter, Lady Breolis, is that when it comes to selecting those who will serve the Imperium, especially in such an important capacity as Minister of Taxation, whether or not my choice would be welcomed by the citizenry mattered far less than the skill in which they could carry out their duties, as well as their adherence to the strictures and tenets of the Imperium." You look out over the assembled Princeps, gaze sweeping the worried and the intrigued, the understanding and the offended, and then returning to Lady Breolis you smile. "Perhaps that does lean upon reiteration more than is required at this point. That these words will satisfy those who are
already assured of the vetting process of the Inquisition and those trusting of my own good sense, does not answer the heart of your inquiry, my lady."
She offers a smile no less than yours and nods, well content in having played her part in allowing you to declaim your point in open session. Your gaze happens to land directly upon Mace Tyrell as you recount the rest of your piece. He would have the least cause to trust a thing you say simply because you had been the one to say it. Not a loyalist and not so much a pragmatist as he might fondly imagine himself to be, else he would not have tried so long and so hard to make his daughter queen.
"If a person's
loyalty is not in doubt, and his skill at the matter at hand is not in question, the only cause for distress remaining is the moral obligate of whether one's own past deeds are undeserving of judgement. I raise the point now, then." A little on the nose perhaps, but one should be allowed some small amusements to go with the weight of the crown.
"The Imperium," you continue, "has been birthed at the dawning of a new age, and many living in that age have undergone a rebirth of sorts themselves. Should Minister Iziku cause more intentional good than accidental harm in the undertaking of his duties, I will count myself well content. And if he should perform intentional harm out of malice for his fellow citizens, you can rest assured he will not be maintaining his post for very long."
Or likely his life, you think but do not say, that would come too close to a threat to utter here, where such discourse and disagreement as the realm must process has been invited to take place under the light of day. Still, you imagine quite a few had heard it all too clearly. You have not been any less explicit with the stick than the carrot when it comes down to it.
Well, if nothing else, you seem to be making those who were already under the spell of Iziku's words count themselves even more wise, but you are not certain you are persuading those who had remained mostly aloof from it. Eddard Stark's eyes are grey and cold as frozen pools in the depths of winter, and he is poor indeed at hiding it.
Maybe one more push... "I am concerned with utilizing the talents of those who approach me and gather around the hearth fire I have lit to the best of their abilities, in order to allow more to join in that warmth. We are each of us a portion of that light cast, and each responsible for excising the darkness in our fellows where we see it, and to not mistake it for the shadows cast by the ones close to us."
"Are you trying to convert them?" Dany's voice echoes in your thoughts, amused. Long has it been since her own innocently spoken words had formed the root of that oft used rhetorical flourish, and much had she learned since then, much had you all learned. Not all come to the fire because they love the light, some simply gather close because they find it useful not to freeze.
"Maybe a bit," you admit.
"Is it working, do you think?"
"
On those who wish to be converted as usual," she replies and stretches her silvery wings slightly as she looks about the hall, picking out each face and each pair of watching eyes as keenly as you.
"Those who have already found another faith will not look with good eyes upon the companionship of devils."
The harvester then quickly fields questions about his former duties with as much truthfulness as ever he had done, making black seem grey by golden light and seeking to frame his own rebellion as a matter of principle twice over that makes him most well suited for trust in high affairs. It is a good thing that those questioning him do not know yet much of devils or of hellm though that will change in less than a week. By then they shall have much more to worry about than the person of the Minister of Taxation.
***
Perhaps you should not have assigned Veda to speak after Izku, you think with the benefit of hindsight as the session pauses for lunch. Having a woman who explicitly has little use for gods speak up after a baatezu troubled even those whose worries might otherwise have been left sleeping. It is not that she does not have a
point about secular education being broader in scope and oft deeper in understanding than that which also teaches faith or morals, but she could have been a lot less acerbic about it. Thankfully, this is the upper chamber and not the lower, or it would have raised even more of a hue and outcry. At least the magisters seem content that education should not count upon the priests, which for most of Essos is ones garbed in red who love them not.
Faithful Mood: Troubled
All well and good to talk about wiping the slate clean for a new dawn, but there was no repentance in the devil's eye and no sign that he should not do it all again with yet more skill if he was asked. Should not in some measure the master be judged by the servants he calls?
Magister Mood: Content
If there is room for devils in the tax man's office, then surely there is room for us who have enslaved only bodies and not souls. Such a fine argument it will make and such a fine ally the Minister shall be.
"Perhaps," a familiar voice interrupts your musings. "My own introduction should distract from other, more remote worries." Bloodraven offers a commiserating smile at what must be to him the familiar burdens of managing court factions, albeit in a less structured manner. "After all, for some I would be the devil they know and for others I would be a strange apparition, perfect fodder for gossip."
"I do not think we can call the discussions of the Princeps gossip, my lord," you reply, mock chiding.
"Not to their faces, perhaps," he waves the matter aside. "So what say you, Your Majesty? If nothing else, it should allow the Minister of Justice to slip through quietly without any questions of his previous affiliations."
"Eddard Stark already looked like he would much wish to speak, but could not find a way to do so without giving offense," you shake your head and consider how you might put the next part delicately. "The matter of
your previous affiliation is sure to come up. The man does not lack for bravery and his principles are dearly held, a blight on all politics."
"Yet it is hardly possible for him to argue with the fact that the very gods by which he swears have given me leave to cast aside the black cloak. He could just ask his younger daughter or pray before a godswood, and it is with my voice that the white lips shall speak, though he knows it not."
"I think it might be best to speak to Roose Bolton on the matter," Dany pipes in unexpectedly in turn. "He is looking to fashion a faction of those who keep to the ways of the First Men, and he is a... practical man from all I have heard of him. With his support, Uncle Brynden's seating would have less whispers among the Northern Lords. I do not think many in the south will have the courage to speak up at first, not least because they could not count on support from other voices as Lord Stark would."
"For now," you muse. "If what you say about Bolton is true, Stark is about to have a march stolen on him. He cannot forever count opon historical ties for his leverage."
"Your Majesty," Bloodraven interjects. "You forget, I think, that I am
not a minister. It is not the place of the Curia Princeps to question me, and if they should murmur and glare at me from under their eyebrows, let them. I am well used to it by now. I was used to it ere most of them were even whelped." A laugh dark as the shadow of black wings falls from his lips.
Do you take Bloodraven's suggestion?
[] Yes, let him make his entrance after lunch
[] No, continue with the ministers as they have been
[] Write in
OOC: A reminder that politics is not just what happens on the floor of the Curia. Not yet edited.
