Work Text:
Cliopher is simultaneously surprised, relieved, and vexed when a page arrives to inform him that Prince Belu has canceled their urgent meeting. Especially since he cleared away a large block in his schedule at the prince’s pleading.
He is also relieved, however, because it’s nearing luncheon and his family has just returned from a morning shopping expedition. It gives him a little extra time to come out, admire their purchases, and hear about the city.
Little Dora is happy to expound about her new doll, and also goes on and on and on about a lady ‘dressed up like an evil frog,’ which baffles Cliopher for several minutes until Auntie Oura takes pity on him and explains that there was a street-performance for children. “All the characters were animals. There was a horse that got lost in a swamp and kept getting tricked, and the frog - “
“She was slimy,” says Dora with great satisfaction.
“I think she covered herself with honey,” says Oura. “Which sounds like a sticky mess, honestly.”
In a wary voice Vinyë prods, “And you, I suppose, have been… running the government?”
His family still aren’t over that revelation, it seems. “It’s been a busy morning,” says Cliopher, unwilling to say more; this doesn’t satisfy anyone. “But one ‘emergency’ was unexpectedly canceled, so… oh gods, Rhodin, what else?”
“Is that how I’m going to be greeted now?” Rhodin strides in laughing, drops into a chair, and plucks up an apple; Franzel brings over a plate immediately.
“Quit creating a fuss whenever you appear, and I’ll be friendlier,” Cliopher grumbles.
“Coffee would be excellent, thank you, Franzel. Isn’t it your job to communicate with people, Cliopher? You cannot blame me for this morning. It seems like you’re much more clear and detailed in your work than your letters home.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Vinyë mutters.
“I’ve never hidden anything,” Cliopher protests.
“Well you weren’t exactly transparent,” his mama counters.
Cliopher rears back, shocked into silence; transparency has always been at the forefront of his reforms. “But do you never read the papers?” Rhodin asks, delighted; Cliopher’s family looks less amused. At this rate they’re not going to be very fond of Rhodin; he can’t seem to refrain from teasing. “Goodness, did no one ever leave your islands at all? None of you have heard about the things he does?”
“I did,” Quintus admits, surprising Cliopher. At the betrayed expressions from the other Mdangs, he amends, “Kind of.”
“What do you mean?” asks Cliopher.
“Well… sometimes I heard, uh, other merchants or dockworkers grumbling about you. Especially the less – well, the ones rumored to be shipping things that they wouldn’t be listing on their official manifests. Complaining about how Cliopher Sayo Mdang would be ‘coming after them’ if they did this or that, or that Sayo Mdang laid down some new rules and they were going to be ruined...”
“And you never asked about any of it?”
Quintus shrugs. “It sounded like you were either working for a criminal cartel or became some sort of hitman, so. Didn’t seem like my business.”
Rhodin chokes on his coffee, sputters, and folds over the table wheezing. Cliopher stares in astonishment. “You thought I was a hitman?”
“Or, you know, one of those criminal lawyers or terrifying accountants ruining people’s lives,” says Quintus in reasonable tones. Rhodin is occupied having a fit against the table, making little hiccuping giggles. “Like the genius villains in all those dramatic mystery-novels Cousin Polly reads. ‘Don’t take that contraband over to the ports around Southern Dair, Sayo Mdang stationed some men there and they’ll track you down! You’ll disappear forever!’ That sort of thing. I figured that was why you never named your lord.”
“You thought the Emperor was a shadowy criminal I worked for??”
“I mean. I guess?”
“And that didn’t concern you?”
“Plausible deniability,” Quintus defends. Auntie Oura – Quintus’ mother – has raised her eyes to the ceiling with the demeanor of someone resigned to her son’s stupidity. “Anyway, I didn’t want to get you into trouble. Or ruin your reputation at home, you know?”
“...should I be looking into the things your company does?” Cliopher wonders. Quintus blanches.
“Cliopher,” Rhodin wheezes, “I love your family.”