"Your majesty, how long are we going to allow these revolts to go unpunished?"

Jong In massaged the side of his head as he listened to his advisor, Suho, rant about the rebels in the capitol. They, along with the head of the royal guard and a couple other council members, were currently in the room rented for Jongin at the local inn in Alrin. The room, the largest at the inn, could only hold the five people currently in it comfortably, although it still managed to feel cramped to those inside as the only one sitting was Jongin. People could have taken seats at the other chair or on the bed, but the only people allowed to sit in the king’s presence were family members or royals from other nations. The only time non-royals didn’t have to stand in his presence was when they were kneeling or bowing.

This had made his visit to the local bar earlier somewhat awkward. Normally, he would go out to places like that disguised, however Alrin was such a small town and his visit was such a big event, that, of course, the people had recognized him almost immediately. It hadn’t taken long for the people at the table next to him to figure out who he was, and they all stood up the moment they did. Combined with their urging the other people around them to do the same, and the knowledge that the king was in town, it hadn’t taken long for everyone else to rise.

It was annoying, but it was law. Jongin had planned on leaving the tavern soon after, but before he could the miller had approached him.

"They aren't going unpunished through my orders," Jong In said, though he felt it should have been obvious. "I don't like these rebellions any more than you do, but short of going out there myself to hunt them down, there's nothing I can do about them that I'm not already trying."

“Yes, there is,” Suho said, crossing his arms. “You should have all the citizens originally from the east banished from the capitol until we get this famine mess sorted out. You know those are the people behind all this.”

“He’s right,” Xiumin, one of the council members, said from across the room. “They’re restless and they’re getting dangerous.”

Jong In crossed his arms, put his knee up against the table he was sitting at, and pushed so he was leaning back, balanced on the back legs of his chair, something he did when he was deep in thought.

“They’re angry because they’re hungry and homesick. Banishing them when they can’t even go home will only infuriate them more.”

“They’re wreaking havoc throughout the capitol and costing us money we don’t have to spare,” Chen, another council member, said from where he was leaned against a wall. This wasn’t exactly with protocol, him leaning against a wall, but since they were in private and Jongin had known Chen since they were very young, he was lenient. Not even Zitao, who was stationed by the one window in the room though they were on the second floor (“Attacks could come from the least likely of places,” he always said) was bothered by it. “They don’t realize how much money we’re already pouring into trying to restore their lands and that the damages in the capitol will only slow any progress we’re making down. They won’t listen to reason, we’ve tried that. As much as I hate the idea too, we don’t have many options.”

Jong In gnawed on the inside of his mouth as he considered Chen’s words. Something felt morally wrong about banishing citizens from the capitol, but he couldn’t come up with any good counter arguments. This was always how it was, and he hated it. Jong In was not a born politician, he was much more interested in anatomy, and if he had the choice he would have become a doctor. Being the only child of a king, though, there wasn’t another option for an heir. His mother could have taken on the role instead when his father died, but while she was good at maneuvering the court, she was even more helpless when it came to politics than Jong In was. Besides, it would have only been a temporary arrangement. Jong In would still be the only legitimate heir to the throne.

It was a bad predicament since Jongin had no head for politics, nor did it seem he could really learn them. When he was in the middle of political debates, he was either easily swayed by others, or had his own firm opinion, but could not adequately express why he opposed or supported any idea. On top of all that, he rarely had any ideas of his own.

“If we banish them won’t they just start uprisings in other cities?” Jong In had closed his eyes at this point, feeling a headache coming on.

Discussing these rebels at this point felt more like bashing his head against a wall over and over again than anything else, and he was also nervous about when they’d start questioning him about what had happened in the tavern. The claim the miller had made about his daughter being able to take hay and spin it in a spindle to turn it into straws of gold was hardly believable, Jong In was still more skeptical than convinced himself, but he had been around so many witches and wizards over the past couple of years that he couldn’t discard it completely. Especially with the money crisis the government was having right now. Between the famine, the research, keeping up armies at the ready in case their neighbor, Margina, decided to invade them, and everything else it takes to run a country, they were running low on funds. They had already raised the taxes and were preparing to do it again, but it won’t help much to keep the government afloat if the people start to starve from not having money because the taxes are too high.

Jong In prayed that the miller was speaking the truth, because he needed that gold, and he needed it bad.

“That’s true,” Xiumin agreed. “Plus the question of how to even get them out of the city. The only people who would actually leave are the ones already following the law. Ordering them all to leave won’t affect the uprisings anymore than the laws against them already in place.”

“What about calling in more witches or wizards to help us locate them? What ever happened to the investigations into that idea?” Chen asked, though it was clear he wasn’t particularly keen on the idea. Even though he had been around them enough, he was still suspect to the stigma against them.

“The only ones we can afford right now aren’t any good, barely worth the money we’d spend on them. All the rest that could actually stand a chance at finding anything out are trying to charge us more than twice what they’re usual prices are.” Suho scowled. “They all believe we’re just sitting back and letting the people starve for whatever reason they’ve concocted in their heads. None of them think we disserve help.”

“Did you just ask the city wizards?” Chen asked. “I heard they’re really pricey to begin with, and arrogant. Country wizards may be more unpredictable, but I’m sure they’re more affordable and less invested in their own personal agendas.”

“A lot of them don’t want to bother getting involved with government affairs.” Suho shook his head. “It’s one of the main reasons they’re in the countryside to begin with.

“What about that one wizard, Lay or whatever his name is that’s making the mining potions?” Xiumin asked. “I don’t think he’s been out to the fields yet.”

“Apparently, he refuses to go,” Suho said. “He was just starting off on his own at the time this all happened, real young too, and some people who were desperate did go to him. He turned them all down, though. Over the years more people still go to him since he’s made quite a name for himself, but he always refuses.”

“Is no one offering him enough?” Xiumin’s brows drew together at this thought. “Doesn’t he know those people are too poor to pay him much all since their livelihoods were burned to the ground?”

“That’s not it.” Suho shook his head again. “He doesn’t deal in money. He trades his services for…” he shrugged, “favors, or something like that.”
“Favors?”

“Yeah. Sometimes he’ll trade for physical things like a chicken or something, but he usually has people do tasks for him in exchange for whatever it is they’re asking of him. They typically deal in magic, like retrieving ingredients for a spell or delivering some magical item like… a hairbrush that makes your hair grow every time you run the brush through, is one I heard about. People don’t usually like messing with it what with everyone, especially people in the countryside, being afraid of magic. The tasks, I hear, aren’t dangerous, but if people are really desperate for his help they don’t have to worry about not having the money to pay him for it.”

“Wait, if we’ve commissioned all those mineral locating potions from him, does that mean…?”

“The crown owes Lay a favor.”

Everyone stopped speaking for a moment to look at Jongin, who was holding his head now as his headache was getting close to turning into a migraine.

“I think this is enough discussion for tonight.” Suho, along with the others, excluding Zitao, all began moving towards the door. “We need to be rested for tomorrow, anyways.”

After everyone had left, Jongin folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them.

“I can’t keep the people from starving. I can’t even join a discussion about it.” Jongin kept his head on the table, feeling too weighed down by everything to lift it back up again. “I’m sorry you have to serve such an incompetent king, Zitao.”

The guard remained silent.

*

“What were you thinking?” Tae hissed at her father as they walked back to their home.

“I’m thinking I was drunk and everyone was treating me no better than the dirt on their shoes,” her father answered, the color now gone from his face as the cold night air sobered him up, the ramifications of his words beginning to sink in.

“So to counter that you lied to the king?” Tae was jittery, anxious from what her father had told her. She wanted to run, as if she could run away from this whole mess. Common sense that it would chase after her and ruin her family, ruin it completely this time, was the only thing that kept her next to her father. 

He frowned even more.

“Did I mention I was drunk?”

Tae stopped walking as her father moved in front of her. She gestured as if to strangle him, but calmed herself down and spoke instead as she caught up to him.

“Father, the king believed you. When he realizes that I can’t actually turn straw into gold he’s going to be furious, and I can’t imagine he’s going to be too nice over the whole ordeal, you having been drunk or not.”

“I am fully aware of that, Tae, and you lecturing me about it isn’t going to change anything. What we need to focus on now is how to get out of this mess.”

“We?” she asked, eyebrows shooting up and hanging open. The corner of was quirked as an incredulous laugh came out of her.

“Yes, we. We are a family, and if one of us goes down, we all go down. Besides, are you forgetting that you agreed with me? That you lied to the king as well?”

“I was just agreeing with you! I had no idea what was happening!”

“I highly doubt he’s going to look more kindly on that excuse than me being drunk.”

“Father.”

Tae stopped walking, watching the man that had raised her walk a few more steps in front of her. She barely recognized him from this angle anymore; hunched shoulders, slow walk. When she was young, her father stood tall. In fact, he was one of the tallest men in the village (a trait which Tae was thankful she didn’t share with him) and when he stood to his fullest height, he could tower over many people. At that time, Tae really believed that her father was the biggest man in the world, that he could take on anything.

The man before her now was weighed down by life and practically always smelled like the alcohol he drank.

When he realized Tae was no longer walking with him, he stopped and turned towards her. He saw the look on her face, and he seemed to return more to his senses.

“Look, Tae. I’m sorry. When you go to a bar you get drunk, talk big and stupid, everyone believes you for one night, then you all go home and sleep it all off and forget everything the next day. The king was hanging around the bar like it was something he’s done before, I thought he knew. Or, I thought it was something that happens in every tavern. I guess not. Anyways, I didn’t even think he’d hear me, or pay attention if he did. Not many people pay attention to me anymore, Tae. I’ve lost a lot of respect.”

He stopped speaking for a moment, looking like child caught doing something wrong.

“I know it’s all just excuses, and that I was still wrong, and that it’s wrong of me to let you get involved. And I’m sorry, Tae, I’m really sorry.”

It was hard to tell in the dark, what with the only light source being the moon, but from his voice it sounded to Tae like her father was about to start crying.

“Father?” she asked, taking a step towards him, hand outstretched, though she had no idea how to comfort him. In all her life, she had never comforted her father; it had always been the other way around. No matter how hard things got, her father was always a rock.

He stepped away from her, though, continuing down the road without looking at her.

“All the same, though.” His voice sounded firmer, which relieved Tae. Maybe she had been imagining it. “We’re still in this predicament. And we still have to figure a way out of it. I’m sure if we put our two minds together, we can figure a way out of this.”

They continued down the road back home only coming up with a few ideas and bouncing them off each other, only to have each and everyone of them shot down. The only answers they could come up usually had the same problem in common; they’d require money to exact. The irony of how if Tae truly could spin straw into gold that would solve their problems wasn’t lost on her.

What also wasn’t lost on her was that it was probably their good fortune that the king would be leaving Alrin so soon. If he stayed too long and learned of the poor life Tae and her family had lived, he would definitely figure out everything had been a lie. Why would a family that had a daughter who could create gold live in poverty?