“I’m not sure what this has to do with—”
“Just answer the question, Simms.”
He sits up a bit straighter in his chair. “I do not personally subscribe to the social media craze, no. But that doesn’t mean I am entirely naive. I know what a hashtag is.” He pauses carefully. “For instance, the recent #IDoNotAssentmovement I’ve seen popping up everywhere online in recent days.”
I snort lightly. “Who knew one little comment in Parliament could cause such a ruckus?”
“Anyone with remote knowledge of the Lancaster legacy, for starters.” He scoffs. “But you’ve never cared much for legacy. Have you, Your Majesty?”
My brows lift at his tone. “No. I suppose I had you to do that for me.”
“Right. Well. You have someone else now, it would appear.” His double chin bobs as he swallows roughly. I can tell he’s straining to keep his voice indifferent. “Perhaps your new Press Secretary is a better fit for you, given your viral online popularity. Ursula Caulfield’s methods may not be my style, however they are effective in… certain circles.”
“Iscertain circlescode foramongst the peasant class?”
“I’m sure Miss Caulfield can describe the demographics of your online followers with more clarity. I suggest you ask her if you are in need of further insight.”
“That could be difficult,” I murmur, head tilting. “Considering I fired her several weeks ago.”
Simms goes still. “W-what?”
“Mmm. Despite my more plebeian tendencies, she wasn’t such a great fit for me after all.” I pause. “It seems, contrary to what you might think, I have a bit more respect for the glorious tradition of ourLancaster legacythan anyone ever would’ve guessed.”
He’s staring at me with wide eyes. “Well… I… That…”
“I’ve shocked you.” My lips twist. “I didn’t think that was possible, anymore.”
“You never fail to keep me on my toes, Your Majesty. It certainly makes this job… interesting, to say the least.” He catches himself. “Made. Made the job interesting.”
Our eyes hold for a long moment. “And how would you feel about a reversion of that verb tense? A return to more traditional tactics, as it were.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“What would you say if…” I steeple my fingers and press them to my lips. “I offered to make you my Press Secretary again?”
Simms sucks in a sharp breath. “I… Your Majesty, that’s…”
“It would have to be different, this time,” I say flatly. “I’m not looking for someone to control me or manipulate me or hide things from me. If you come back, you do it with full transparency.”
The silence yawns between us, My olive branch hovers in the air, waiting to be claimed or batted aside. After what seems an eternity, Simms clears his throat.
“It’s not that I’m not grateful for the offer. I’m simply confused as to why it’s being extended. After our last interaction… you made it quite clear you no longer trusted my council, Your Majesty.”
“I may not fully trust you with personal matters — I maynevertrust you with personal matters — but I need your help,” I say bluntly. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news. You know I’m calling for a referendum, so the public can voice their opinions about Parliament. But to do so… I will need to outmaneuver adversaries who would rather see my efforts fail. I will have to learn the choreography of a dance with steps I’m only beginning to grasp. It would be helpful to have someone at my side who mastered them a long time ago.”
He stares at me for a long moment. “I do have a certain amount of experience when it comes to these matters. But I’m afraid sharing that with you will do no good — for either of us — if my motives are constantly in question.”
“I’ve never questioned your motives, Simms. Only your methods.” I sigh deeply. “And over the past few months, I’ve learned that doing this job, being a good queen… It’s not really about me, is it? It’s not about surrounding myself with sycophants and yes-men, who’ll agree with everything I say without question. It’s about doing what’s best for the entire kingdom.” I tilt my head at him. “Putting my own grievances aside for a second… evenIhave to acknowledge you’ve always acted in what you believe is the best interest of the crown. Because your loyalty is not to me, or my family name, or even the storied legacy you are so fond of touting. It’s to Germania. And that… That is immeasurably valuable.”
He shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable, but I notice his eyes are a bit red around the rims. When he speaks, there’s an undeniable catch in his voice. “I’m quite pleased to hear you say so, Your Majesty.”
“Non sibi sed patriae,” I whisper. “You, more than anyone I know, lives by that standard, Simms.”
“Thank you, My Queen. That means more to me than you could ever know.” He can’t quite maintain eye contact as he continues. “After your father’s death… I admit, I was hasty in my decision-making. These past few months have been a period of unprecedented turmoil. Never in my twenty-five year tenure have I had to deal with so many losses so rapidly. If I was ill-equipped or over-eager… if I stumbled in my role as your advisor… I regret that. I regret it deeply, Your Royal Majesty.”
It’s probably as close to an ‘I’m sorry, I screwed up’as I’ll ever get from someone like Simms. But an imperfect apology is better than no apology at all.
“If you want it, the position is yours. Effective immediately.” I brush imaginary lint from my pants. “So long as we get one thing straight.”