Kristen,

I’m pleased to hear from Fenaast you are working together on your studies. He says you’ve shown great interest in my copy of the charters and sent me a few of your questions. He slso says you were quick to pick up on the two oldest annotations and asked why King Angus’ name appeared so frequently.

In short, the Aeronies King and I have never seen eye to eye on the SI. Our first clash was the reason for those early annotations.

It was in my second year as Spymaster shortly after Yuletide. I was woken in the early hours of the morning by a phone call from my Deputy Director of Internal Affairs.

“Yes?” I answered.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Your Honor,” Grayland said. “Something has just come up in regard to Aeronis. I need you here, if you don’t mind.”

“I will be right there.”

Grayland was waiting outside my office when I arrived with a lengthy file in hand. I unlocked my office and we sat down together. It was a spacious room, and I do sorely miss it. You haven’t seen it yet, but the Sentinel Corps headquarters is situated on an island all of two miles across, and space of any sizable square footage is a premium. I did not sit behind my desk but instead took the lounge chair beside the still smoldering fire I had banked two hours ago. Grayland handed me the file.

“Just this morning I received a warning from one of my operatives in Aeronis. It appears King Angus and the Lady McFarlane may be having an affair. At the very least, there is enough evidence to suggest sexual favors have been given to the king by this woman. If the Madam were to choose to blackmail Angus, she could likely do so given what we know so far of their activities.”

I read through the report, and it was clear the king had dropped another terrible test on the SI. I turned to Grayland. “What is your assessment?”

“We are damned, sir, pardon my language.”

“What else?”

“Sir, if we investigate this and find that Lady McFarlane has every intention of blackmailing the king, then we might have some authority to do something. But that is only if she attempts to do so. We cannot threaten the woman before that moment. If she does love the king and this relationship continues, it could hit the press rumor mill in a month. It would tarnish the Triumvir’s reputation and legitimacy and possibly destabilize Aeronis. Not to mention the international embarrassment this will cause.”

“I would not go that far,” I hedged, but it was difficult not to appreciate the potential magnitude of the scandal. Affairs had ruined careers throughout the Triumvirate’s history, and this wouldn’t be the first king to suffer so. “But… the scandal still stands.”

“Should we get involved?”

It is never a light decision to manipulate the press, and I took my time considering. The charters dictated the SI’s line of what I could and could not do with sometimes painstaking detail. When it comes to the collection of information on our citizenry and our assessments of ‘meditated crime’, well, let’s just say the Triumvirate cares very much about innocent until proven guilty. But perhaps the most difficult article was the very first one. I was to defend the national security interests of the Triumvirate. Pause and ask yourself, where would that place a king’s reputation? Is it worth covering up the scandal and silencing the press? King or no king, you have learned enough by now the Triumvirate cares deeply about our independent press. But, Grayland’s arguments were valid as well. Would you risk the stability of Angus’ throne? You can see why this article had gathered so many annotations.

At that moment, there was only one course of action that made sense given the scenario. I needed to interview Lady McFarlane personally.

I left the Dark Harbor and teleported to Aeronis. The world is in the extreme northern latitude of the Confederacy and the capital was beset with snow. I will digress here. You have not seen Aeronis yet, and it will be some time before you do. Our brethren are an unusual people with a very long history and a very proud heritage. A lot of outsiders think their world must be brimming with magic, with flying tea cups and arcane script written on every surface. This is not the case. While every Aeronies is capable of doing magic, you must appreciate the expensive nature of ink. Their least powerful ink, Lachlan Moss, is moss. It grows slowly even when tenderly cultivated. As such, they do not waste their inks on flying tea cups or door bells. They shovel snow from their eaves and walk to the oratory on Sunday morning when the bells chime the call. Magic is a wonderful tool, Kristen, but it is not the only tool to achieve our goals, nor in many cases the best. More often than not, it is simply not capable of such a high demand.

Lady McFarlane’s house was in every respect a typical Aeronies lodge with walnut paneling along the walls and exquisite tapestries woven with unmatched skill. The woman herself swept down the grand stairway and her mind roiled in anxious concern. “My lord, please forgive my unpreparedness. I was not expecting such high company.”

I passed my cap and winter mantle to the footman. “Fear not, Madam, and you may address me as Your Honor. I am not a lord. I am here on official business. As soon as you are able, I would like a moment of your time.”

“You have my undivided attention, Your Honor.”

We sat down in a bright parlor with a roaring fire and a view of the cascading snowfall. Tea was brought, and the lady was the picture of grace as she served me. All throughout the house, her staff’s minds buzzed with excitement and interest at my unexpected appearance.

Lady McFarlane was a different story. The woman was very fair, but what caught my attention most of all was the fog around her mind. Technically, anyone can learn to resist our probing if they can control their emotions with proper mediation. I have met many perpetrators and spies that took hours to best their defenses. Lady McFarlane fell squarely into this category.

I did not broach the reason for my visit until the tea was served and the staff had left us alone. “My lady, you understand the purpose I serve for the Triumvirate. I am one of its primary defenders from threats abroad, but also within.”

The general haze of her mind shifted slightly with potential understanding. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Then, you must have some suspicion of why I have come today.”

“I believe I may.”

“How long have you known King Angus?” The question altered the haze, but to what was impossible to tell.

“Since we were children.”

So began our long interrogation. The lady sparred very well, but she could not fully mask herself. I gleaned a few things from her, most notably her loyalty to Angus. I believed, and still do, that she genuinely loved him. The thought of blackmail upset her, even insulted her. It was the greater part of the afternoon before I was finished with my questions and was satisfied.

“My lady, I am very pleased we have had this opportunity to talk together. I trust that you will defend Angus if it ever comes to it.”

“Of course, Your Honor. May I,” she hesitated, then forged ahead with, “may I ask; what will you say to his majesty about this?”

“Nothing. As far as I am concerned, this is a civil matter. If he wants my advice, he may ask for it, but he is not overly fond of Night Azerie. He never learned the control that you have, and my presence unsettles him.”

“I see. Will you write to him? I would feel better knowing he learned of this conversation from you.”

I offered a slight bow. “If you wish.”

I did write to King Angus about the investigation into Lady McFarlane and my determination that she meant him no ill will. My letter was met with a terse reply that the investigation had been wholly unnecessary and my findings were duly noted. As Grayland predicted, the affair was exposed two months later.

I knew Alexander had come to visit before he appeared in my doorway by the sudden mental rippling of heightened attention and scrape of chairs from the maze of desks. He stepped into my office and shut the doors. His mind was a swirling mixture of contained anger and such immense disappointment that my greeting died in my throat.

I shut off the radio and shot to my feet, sure that something terrible had occurred. “What is it?”

Alexander dropped into the lounge chair and waved a hand at the dying fire. It flared with renewed heat. “Simon, did you know about this affair?”

I sat down on the couch. “Yes. I’m sorry, I should have warned you. We’ve known for some time.”

“Yes, you should have. Ramses is furious, and Estevan’s administration is scrambling to find some way to gloss over the impact of this damned affair. What are we looking at?”

“You and Ramses are still viewed with immense respect, abroad and at home. It would take a lot more than something as trivial as this to change that. We’ll have to see what Estevan does, but I would caution him from acting too forgiving. As for the opinions of the Aeronies, King Angus’ best course of action is to ignore all of this. He is still king, and he is still a Triumvir. He is due his privacy on personal matters.”

Alexander leaned forward and met my response with a flare of frustration. “You need to stop thinking like you’re only my Spymaster, Simon. You defend all of us.”

That irritated me. “Alexander, I do, and I did. I went myself to meet Lady McFarlane to ensure blackmail was not her intent. I even sent Angus a letter detailing my investigation.”

“You needed to do more than that.”

“I was not about to silence the press.”

“You are missing the point.”

“No, I’m not. The SI does not exist to cover up Triumvir’s embarrassments.”

“You are missing the point. I don’t disagree with you about the charters, but Angus is what, seventy-six? He will serve as a Triumvir with me until he dies, and that is another seventy years give or take. We cannot have him thinking that you dislike him or are contemptuous of him. Do you see the problem? Your inaction, however justified, has damaged our relationship with the Aeronies Crown.”

This was not my first scolding, nor was it my last, but it was the first I ever received from Alexander. I had nothing to say except a soft, “I see your point.”

“Angus is going to summon you. Please make friends with him.”

“I can’t promise that, but I will try to make peace with him.”

The summons came swiftly, and I was soon back in Aeronis. This time, I was driven out of the capital to one of the royal family’s country estates. A King’s Guard in midnight blue opened the door for me, and another led me to an upper chamber. Every mind in the chateau was tense, and the guards were especially uneasy at my arrival. I was taken to the king’s private study.

Angus was seated at his desk with a newspaper. Several were littering the ground beside him, and resting on the desk was a full copy of the SI’s charters. I closed the door behind me and stood in front of his desk. Angus glared at me from over the newspaper, but continued to read the article in silence. The king did not try to conceal his emotions from me, though that was just as likely because of their intensity. He was angry and betrayed, and those two emotions overwhelmed his mind. If I had been one of his Archmages, I might have feared for my life. As it was, I was not entirely certain I was safe to be alone with him. When someone is so deeply wrapped up with their rage, it makes predicting their actions extremely difficult. In a way, it was not unlike a meditative haze. I felt blind.

I remained there for over a minute before the king tossed this newspaper onto the growing pile. He folded his hands in front of him and said, “You did this on purpose.”

“No, Your Majesty. I did not intend you any harm.”

“Your own charter dictates that you use the resources of the SI to defend the Confederacy’s national security. Silencing the press is among your given tools, is it not?”

“Respectfully, there is a clause in that same article that prevents me from silencing the press over personal embarrassments.”

“Your personal embarrassments. I am a monarch, which means my reputation is directly linked to my legitimacy and by not stepping in you have allowed every newspaper and radio broadcaster from here to Zephyr to speculate on my marriage, my children's legitimacy, and my wisdom. That is unacceptable.”

Of course, I was not unaware of this argument. Grayland and I had gone back and forth over the potential fallout for days after my interview with Lady McFarlane. I had even brought up this very article to my Deputy Directors. We agreed unanimously, as you’ll see in the annotations, that taken in the context of the greater section, it referred to any Confederate body, SI Director or Triumvir.

“Your Majesty, I understand your frustration. But given the scenario I deemed that silencing the press over a civil matter such as this would be more dangerous to our stability than the uncomfortable embarrassment you will endure over—.”

“Uncomfortable embarrassment my arse!” His words, not mine. Angus rounded the desk and closed the distance until he was inches from my face. “You would never have made this decision if it were Alexander’s name being dragged through the mire. You would have used every lever you had and silenced those editors.”

“Alexander would never have taken a woman into bed with him, and he’s not married.”

Yes, it was a very unwise thing to say. I might be implacable most days, but you have seen my temper get the better of me before. It’s not a new weakness. I did not register the movement until his open palm cracked across my face. I kept my stance, if just, and turned to the king once more. Angus stood with his baton drawn. I froze.

“You might belong to the Order,” he said in a quiet murmur, “but you are standing on my soil, and I will challenge you to a duel if you disregard my station again.”

“I am aware of that, Your Majesty.”

He held my gaze another moment, then holstered his weapon. “I trust I have made my position clear to you.”

“You have, Your Majesty. I trust I have also made my position clear.”

“Very. You are dismissed.”

I left. My Sentinel driver pulled the car back around and I climbed into the back. I had snatched a small handful of snow and rolled the powder securely in my handkerchief. As I sat there tending to my face, Alexander’s request hung over me. I did not regret my decision then nor do I regret it now, and if Angus demanded an apology, I would apologize only for the miscommunication.

But Alexander is my brother in all but blood, and I held immense respect for Estevan. Both of them understood the proper use of Sentinel Intelligence enough that they never made ridiculous demands from me. Angus never seemed to understand that I was not his silver hatchet to resolve unsightly court intrigue and it left a difficult dilemma. We were not operating on the same page. Whether that was his failure as my superior or my failure as his Spymaster, it did not matter. I was the one nursing a swelling lip.

You have heard the expression about choosing your hill. You will curate many beliefs over your career, but not all are worth becoming convictions. This is a skill you must develop carefully, because even if you are right, not all beliefs are worth suffering for. On this occasion, and many others, I chose the Sentinel Intelligence charters.

Your dutiful master

-S