The broadside was only the first indication of Balladairan discontent in the colony. Over the next few days, as Luca continued to respond to grievances and requests in her new role as governor-general, she could practically feel the merchants’ and nobles’ whispers tickling the back of her neck. She suspected she wasn’t imagining the dirty looks she received from other Balladairans as she took her exercise around the Quartier.
Her suspicions were confirmed when she received a request for an audience from the comte de Beau-Sang and granted it to him.
Casimir LeRoche de Beau-Sang came from one of the lesser noble houses of Balladaire’s southern coast. Beau-Sang had made his family’s fortune early as Balladaire stretched the reaches of its empire. He was one of the first to invest in developing Qazāl as a colony. His quarries were especially lucrative: marble shipped to Balladaire as an architectural luxury and sandstone for the colonies as an architectural necessity. （The Balladairans in the colonies didn’t favor the pressed-mud style of building that was popular with the Qazāli.）
The quarries had turned him from a member of a small, rarely thought-of house to a major player in Balladaire’s court intrigues, but for all that he preferred to stay in Qazāl.
So Luca wasn’t surprised that he was the one who came to meet her in her office at the Balladairan compound.
Touraine opened the door at his knock and bowed him in—only enough of a bow so as to not directly insult him. Close enough. Close on Beau-Sang’s heels was his little assistant, the young Qazāli boy. Richard.
While the door was open, Luca was surprised at how quiet the military compound’s administrative building was. She had always imagined the noise of battle and unruly troops, even in a place where people were essentially doing sums and writing politely veiled threats.
What is war if not a complicated web of mathematics and charm? Luca thought.
It was time for her to use the charm.
“Good afternoon, Comte. How are you and your family?” Luca gestured for him to sit as Touraine stepped out to fetch coffee.
“Good morning, Your Highness.” Beau-Sang eased his broad body into the creaky but well-upholstered chair in front of Luca’s desk. “We’re doing well, mostly. Paul-Sebastien asked that I send his regards. He’s glad to have a true scholar nearby.”
Luca accepted the flattery with a nod. When Touraine returned, she poured them both coffee before sitting at the small traveler’s desk in the corner. Touraine offered the young boy a cup, as well, but Richard shook his head with a look toward Beau-Sang before taking his place standing just behind the comte.
The room was only barely large enough to accommodate Luca and Touraine both; it was still full of many of Cheminade’s effects. Cheminade had decorated the office like she’d decorated her home, full of travel relics and curiosities. Beau-Sang gave the souvenirs the slightest sneer before he sipped his coffee.
“It’s unfortunate business, those broadsides,” Beau-Sang said. “I saw them posted throughout the city before you had them taken down. The right choice, of course.”
Luca felt her face warm, but she kept her expression neutral. She did not look over at Touraine. “Yes, well. As you say, it’s been dealt with.”
“Of course, Your Highness. I suppose it’s not surprising given some of the changes you’ve proposed as governor-general.” He smiled wryly at Luca, like he’d caught on to her taking an extra turn at échecs. “I don’t mind, of course. I trust your judgment fully. It’s just that one hears people talk.”
Luca sniffed dismissively, as if “people” were the last thing on her mind. This time, she did give Touraine a quick glance. Touraine met Luca’s eyes from behind Beau-Sang’s back and nodded; she was paying attention.
“People do like to talk. I find it to be their great shortcoming.”
The comte smiled and shook his head indulgently. “Indeed, Your Highness, and about nothing important.”
“Is that what you’re here for, then? Nothing important?”
He smiled at the joke—or perhaps that was just a tic in his cheek. “The business owners are concerned about the new changes you’ve proposed regarding the Qazāli laborers. They think that you’re bowing to rebel pressure and wonder why Cantic hasn’t used the full weight of her soldiers to put them down instead. Your subjects are simply worried about their livelihoods.” Then, as if the thought had just occurred to him: “Is that what her lot were brought in for?”