Free Love's Labor's Won by Christopher Nuttall

countries...they were weaker than they’d been for nearly a hundred years. They have to hate it .
    “We shall begin by discussing my will,” Randor continued. He produced a sheaf of paper from his pocket and dropped it on the table. “My kingdom will, of course, go to my daughter. She is, as yet, unmarried, but she is Confirmed. And, I might add, a powerful magician in her own right. Who would be fool enough to dispute the title with her?”
    There was a long pause. No one answered.
    “There are a handful of other bequests,” King Randor added, “but they are comparatively minor. You will be expected to uphold the terms, should I die before my appointed time.”
    He passed the sheaf of papers to Baron Silver, who read it quickly and then passed the will to the next baron. Emily winced inwardly when the papers came to her — the will was written in Old Script, rather than English — and then started to read it. She wasn’t anything like an expert, but as far as she could tell there were only a handful of bequests. Queen Marlena would receive enough money to keep her in luxury for the rest of her days, a handful of loyal servants would be rewarded for their service and...a number of payments were marked out to various women of the court. Emily’s eyes narrowed at the final section. What the hell did that mean?
    “I do not intend to divide the kingdom,” Randor said. “It is my intention for my daughter to inherit a unified land.”
    “Your majesty,” Baron Gaunt said. “When is your daughter to marry?”
    Emily winced, inwardly. Alassa had to produce an heir at some point, someone who shared the Royal Bloodline as well as a strong claim to the throne. And whoever married Alassa would have a chance to make himself king, in fact as well as name. She had a feeling that the three barons, all easily old enough to be Alassa’s father, would have happily put their wives and children aside for a chance to marry the princess.
    “When she has found a suitable husband,” King Randor said. “One will be found, I have no doubt, and then she will marry. She has time.”
    “She should have been married sooner,” Baron Silver said.
    “But she was not,” King Randor said, sharply. “And this leads us to the second part of the discussion.”
    He placed his hands on the table and smiled at them. There was something cool and deliberate about his movements, as if he had planned the meeting beforehand. Emily felt a cold shiver running down her spine as she realized that, whatever the King had to say, the barons were not going to like it.
    “A number of noble families have lost their heads,” he said. “Their children, alas, have been cast out in the world with no one to protect or discipline them, let alone guide them through the rocks and shoals of the path towards adulthood. The estates, held in trust for them, will languish without a firm hand to keep their clients in line. Their peasants are already fleeing the fields for the opportunities of the cities.”
    Emily felt her cheeks heat as two of the barons tossed her sharp glances. It was her fault, more than anyone else, that so many opportunities had opened up in the cities. Now, peasants who were legally bound to the land were fleeing to the cities, seeking a chance to make new lives for themselves. The barons were furious; clearly, it had never occurred to them that no one liked working hard, then only being allowed to keep a tiny portion of their crops. Taxes were so high in some parts of Zangaria that they were literally impossible to pay. And then the barons wondered why so many peasants became bandits.
    “This is, of course, a grave concern to the kingdom,” King Randor continued. “I will therefore be assuming guardianship of all the minor aristocratic children, effective immediately.”
    Emily didn’t understand what he meant, but it was clear the other barons did . They looked, very much, as if they wanted to protest, to object to what the king had said.