Administrative duties occupied the majority of Daryen’s morning. First up was a counselor that helped mediate a land disagreement in the hill-country. After hearing the arguments on both sides, Daryen’s negotiation led to what he hoped would be mutual benefits with the landowners, but their feud went back generations. Only after threatening to call arms upon each other did the matter come before the king for resolution. If this bargain kept more than a season, he’d be surprised. In the meantime, all parties were content to return home. He’d not see his own people kill each other. That the eastern province of the country bubbled up disputes more and more frequently, he summoned one of his advisors to bring ideas for replacement stewards. The current Lord steward’s standards were unacceptable.
Afterward, he was briefed from the city’s dungeonmaster that the city-guards seized a trader claiming to peddle Saldaean peppers as a cover for dealing in counterfeit coin. There were others awaiting punishment, fines, imprisonment, or banishment. Daryen signed the orders that the trader’s sentence be carried out publically as a means to amend the very public influx of counterfeit coin. The council of merchants would need to be involved given the involvement of Saldaean trade. He wrote a letter to the Council, documenting the capture and punishment. The crown would replace any counterfeit coin with true Domani marks with small incentive for extra for those who brought them in. Another letter was written to the Saldaean monarchy requesting recompense for the breech in their minting security. Another meeting with an finance advisor suggested that the criminal activity was probably larger than just one peddler. They would have to interrogate the man for inquiry into other conspirators. Daryen would give his guards a week to find the information before simply taking up the interrogation himself. He had ways to make the guilty talk that others didn’t. He hated the task and hoped the man would yield to more traditional processes like a petty criminal. Usually when the Asha’man King visited the dungeons, it meant spies or darkfriends were involved. Of course, just the situation alone sparked thoughts of Jai.
His brother’s mind was incomprehensibly astute. He could see patterns in blue sky, and the numbers that swirled behind his haunted gaze was a fascinating mystery. How he did what he did astounded Daryen. Watching Jai work the recesses of his mind was mesmerizing, but Daryen knew the toll it took on his friend. If anyone could determine the scope that such this small fraud ring reached, it was Jai. He’d not do it to him, though. Jai protected Daryen with all his loyalty, and the careful need was fully reciprocated. Merely thinking of Jai made a tightness grow in his chest that he knew was not his own. Daryen was long-ago accustomed to the fluctuations in his bond, but for the most part, when Jai was in the city, he was content as calm waters. His excursions abroad rent the tethers of security like a boat lost to sea in a storm, but the distance muted the sensation to nearly nothing. He wouldn't disturb Jai with this, though the distraction from the Seanchan would probably be welcome. It wasn't worth the risk to Jai's vulnerabilities. He'd put the thought out of his mind and by early-afternoon, his letters were sealed passed to the custody of his riders going to Maradon. Then he was updated on the time, reminding him that he intended on changing into more ceremonial attire. He nodded and departed, agreeing that the time was close.
As he approached his quarters, the tightness in his chest settled in until only drawing upon the One Power would dissolve the anxiety’s intensity. By the time he entered, he could no longer discern the emotion as his own or otherwise. Jai was already waiting.
“Good afternoon, Jai,” he said with a smile that was genuinely glad to find his brother, frightful or otherwise. He looked tired in the way of an exhilarating training, probably on the beach again by the sand and sweat all over him. Afterward, a quick scan confirmed the presence of the personal servant who handled the king’s wardrobe awaiting summons. Of course, the flashing smile for Jai trailed as he passed by. They didn’t have long to discuss this, so whatever Jai had to say, it would need to be said while Ventri worked the clothes from the king’s shoulders.
On a pedestal before a gilded mirror, Daryen held out his arms like awaiting a loving embrace, but it was Ventri who came to work the many buttons of his shirts. Whoever it was that decided kings had to wear so many clothes clearly didn't prioritize their quick escape: neither for pleasure or the basic act of relieving himself. Ventri seemed to sense Daryen's patient irritation with the hassle and cut the tension with the sort of humor only those most familiar with their masters would dare. "Thick cloth wrinkles less easily, and you've been at war with wrinkles since you were a boy, m'lord," he said, working the second layer as he did.
Daryen chuckled. Hoping Jai heard.
Afterward, he was briefed from the city’s dungeonmaster that the city-guards seized a trader claiming to peddle Saldaean peppers as a cover for dealing in counterfeit coin. There were others awaiting punishment, fines, imprisonment, or banishment. Daryen signed the orders that the trader’s sentence be carried out publically as a means to amend the very public influx of counterfeit coin. The council of merchants would need to be involved given the involvement of Saldaean trade. He wrote a letter to the Council, documenting the capture and punishment. The crown would replace any counterfeit coin with true Domani marks with small incentive for extra for those who brought them in. Another letter was written to the Saldaean monarchy requesting recompense for the breech in their minting security. Another meeting with an finance advisor suggested that the criminal activity was probably larger than just one peddler. They would have to interrogate the man for inquiry into other conspirators. Daryen would give his guards a week to find the information before simply taking up the interrogation himself. He had ways to make the guilty talk that others didn’t. He hated the task and hoped the man would yield to more traditional processes like a petty criminal. Usually when the Asha’man King visited the dungeons, it meant spies or darkfriends were involved. Of course, just the situation alone sparked thoughts of Jai.
His brother’s mind was incomprehensibly astute. He could see patterns in blue sky, and the numbers that swirled behind his haunted gaze was a fascinating mystery. How he did what he did astounded Daryen. Watching Jai work the recesses of his mind was mesmerizing, but Daryen knew the toll it took on his friend. If anyone could determine the scope that such this small fraud ring reached, it was Jai. He’d not do it to him, though. Jai protected Daryen with all his loyalty, and the careful need was fully reciprocated. Merely thinking of Jai made a tightness grow in his chest that he knew was not his own. Daryen was long-ago accustomed to the fluctuations in his bond, but for the most part, when Jai was in the city, he was content as calm waters. His excursions abroad rent the tethers of security like a boat lost to sea in a storm, but the distance muted the sensation to nearly nothing. He wouldn't disturb Jai with this, though the distraction from the Seanchan would probably be welcome. It wasn't worth the risk to Jai's vulnerabilities. He'd put the thought out of his mind and by early-afternoon, his letters were sealed passed to the custody of his riders going to Maradon. Then he was updated on the time, reminding him that he intended on changing into more ceremonial attire. He nodded and departed, agreeing that the time was close.
As he approached his quarters, the tightness in his chest settled in until only drawing upon the One Power would dissolve the anxiety’s intensity. By the time he entered, he could no longer discern the emotion as his own or otherwise. Jai was already waiting.
“Good afternoon, Jai,” he said with a smile that was genuinely glad to find his brother, frightful or otherwise. He looked tired in the way of an exhilarating training, probably on the beach again by the sand and sweat all over him. Afterward, a quick scan confirmed the presence of the personal servant who handled the king’s wardrobe awaiting summons. Of course, the flashing smile for Jai trailed as he passed by. They didn’t have long to discuss this, so whatever Jai had to say, it would need to be said while Ventri worked the clothes from the king’s shoulders.
On a pedestal before a gilded mirror, Daryen held out his arms like awaiting a loving embrace, but it was Ventri who came to work the many buttons of his shirts. Whoever it was that decided kings had to wear so many clothes clearly didn't prioritize their quick escape: neither for pleasure or the basic act of relieving himself. Ventri seemed to sense Daryen's patient irritation with the hassle and cut the tension with the sort of humor only those most familiar with their masters would dare. "Thick cloth wrinkles less easily, and you've been at war with wrinkles since you were a boy, m'lord," he said, working the second layer as he did.
Daryen chuckled. Hoping Jai heard.