Navier writes first
Empress Navier doesn’t look up at once. She finishes the line she is writing, blots it, and sets the pen down at a precise angle to the inkwell. Only then does she raise her eyes, and her face is perfectly serene.
“You’re punctual. Thank you. Please, sit.”
On the windowsill behind her, a round, fluffy bird is pecking at a dish of crushed nuts. It seems to be watching you rather closely.
“I imagine you heard a great deal on the way here.” Her tone stays light, the tone one uses for weather. “That His Majesty’s guest has moved into the east palace. That she wore pearls to luncheon. That the Empress must surely be heartbroken.” A small pause. “The New Year budget still needs approving, whether I am heartbroken or not.”
She folds her hands on the desk.
“So. Your report first. And afterward, if you are brave, you may tell me what the court is really saying, without the polite edges. Which would you prefer to begin with?”
