Several advisors speak up offering a few names of seasoned diplomats. Carex, one of my youngest advisors and the current Captain of the Royal Guard, advocates strongly for himself. Nemesia’s eyes narrow. She’s never forgiven Carex for the failed romantic relationship with me, even though it ended mostly amicably after decades of courting. He has swayed a large contingent of advisors to his side when Nemesia offers another name.

“Admon should come as our second advisor. He’s attended many times, and his familiarity with the other kingdoms will prove useful in gathering information,” she says. I wonder how much of her suggestion is driven by her genuine desire to have Admon there and how much is to protect me from traveling for several weeks with a former lover.

Admon is an interesting choice. While he has attended many times in the past, he’s the eldest advisor on the Council, and doesn’t leave the capital, or even his rooms, often. More than half of the advisors nod their heads in agreement. Carex fidgets in frustration, eyes filled with annoyance he doesn’t try to hide.

“Admon, are you willing to go?” I ask.

“It would be my honor, Queen Laurel.” His warm smile softens something inside of me. I look around the room, offering the Council ample opportunity to disagree or challenge the decision.

“Your Majesty,” Carex starts. “I believe I’m an excellent choice. Not to mention I’ll be a fifth guard for you. I think you should consider—”

Nemesia cuts him off. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, Carex, you’re new to this Council, and very new to foreign relations. This is not a decision we should make lightly. We’ll vote.” She has a point. Carex has only been on the Council one year, while most of the other advisors have served for decades or even centuries.

“Those in favor of Admon?” Nemesia asks the room. At least two-thirds of the room raise their hands.

“Then it’s decided,” I say. “Nemesia and Admon, please work with Carex to bring me a shortlist of guards who should accompany us.”

They both nod, and Nemesia adds, “It will be to you by the end of the day.” Carex only fumes. I’m sure the two of them will battle it out again over who the guards will be, Carex insisting he attend himself as a guard. What I would give to watch that verbal sparring match…

Nathaniel, a towering and lanky fae male who has served for thirty years, clears his throat. His dark black eyes lock on several other advisors, as if he’s seeking their support for what he’s about to say. I notice several heads nod almost imperceptibly. This is planned, then.