Two days later, Tinsel Pomfrey cut short that day's Court Session.
Immediately after the Princess's Tea Break (aka break time to cool things down) he canceled the rest of the day's schedule and announced to Mira that they would take a trip to Dolmia City.
"I thought the dolmia was distributed without any further issues. Why are we going there?"
"You need to set up a new Advisor for Dolmia and also reassure the dolmian miners that everything is fine. They have been very distressed because they have just been told that the Duchess of Dolmia has died, and that there was going to be a new landowner over Dolmia.
"And you want me to talk to them and reassure them things are going to be ok."
"That is the plan, Your Royal Highness."
She nodded. It didn't sound too difficult. She could probably pull that off.
"And do we know who the new owner of Dolmia is?"
"Most certainly, Your Royal Highness. That would be You."
"Me???" Mira gasped. "Why me?"
"Why not you?"
"Ummmm---Doesn't the Duchess have an heir of some sort who would take over in the event of her death?"
"That's not how it works, Your Royal Highness. If you take out the head of a royal family, you become the new head of the royal family."
"Oh...I wasn't---I mean….I didn't do that so I could take over…"
"Princess. Do not feel any self-doubt about what transpired. Had that woman been successful in killing you, the Tamein Royal Family would have been deposed and she would be the one sitting on the throne at this very moment."
Mira closed her eyes. She still had so much to learn about this world.
"I understand. When do we leave for Dolmia?"
"We leave now." He held out his hand. "Please take hold of my arm and I will port you there immediately."
She reached out for Tinsel Pomfrey's black sleeve.
There was a sudden quick tingle between her ears and on the choker necklet that Zander gave her. Suddenly she was whisked to another part of the world.
Dolmia was the most northerly city in the Ashryan Empire. It was part of what was loosely called the Northern Realm which was controlled by the Tamein Family of Diamond.
Tinsel Pomfrey had ported them into an inner courtyard of the city's largest inn. The courtyard was not truly a courtyard since it had long ago been domed over by glass, turning it into a fairly large greenhouse.
Mira stood under the domed glass looking at the green space around her.
The trellises were filled with flowering potato vines creating a green and purple curtain rising up into the domed top. The scent of roses and muguet permeated the air as hummingbirds hovered and flittered here and there.
It did not seem like a mid-winter scene at the top of the world.
"What a beautiful place." She inhaled deeply.
"This is the Royal Family Inn. It is where your husband and his parents come when they travel to Dolmia. This way, Princess."
Mira followed him through a winding path which led to a doorway. Immediately within the doorway was a huge ballroom with hardwood parquet flooring and enormous crystal chandeliers hanging on the ceiling.
Tinsel led her through the ballroom and then up a set of sweeping staircases which brought them out onto a wide hallway with doors on either side.
"This is the Royal family receiving room." He opened the double doors and waited for her to enter before closing it behind him. "Please make yourself comfortable and I will bring the Dolmian representative to meet with you."
Mira looked around.
The room was spacious with several seating areas scattered around the periphery. At the center of the room there was a long dining table made of some type of red mahogany...or was it a conference table. Did Ashryans even hold conferences?
Mira picked out a comfortable fainting couch and 'carefully' proceeded to faint on it. Her queen gown was so weighed down with beads and gems that she was afraid something would snag and rip apart the various layers of fabrics.
She'd been so exhausted lately. Work had been accumulating at an ever increasing rate ever since the fateful day the chiros bombed Diamond Palace and the royal couple had been kidnapped.
By the time she was able to take on the workload it had piled up so high that the king's table was groaning under the weight of scrolls, accounting books, and documents to be reviewed and signed.
The fact that Mira could not read any of the documents did not matter. Tinsel Pomfrey was constantly at her side, translating, explaining, and guiding her on what to do and where to sign.
At one point, she had asked him why he did not just sign the documents himself using the Royal Stamp.
He had blanched and informed her in all seriousness that to touch the Royal Stamp was instant death.
No one but the monarch (or an acting-monarch such as Mira) would ever be allowed to hold the stamp to make official marks with it.
Mira had to admit, Tinsel Pomfrey never overstepped his boundaries.
Although he advised and proposed various solutions to a problem, the one thing he never did was to make the decisions for her. He explained the pros and cons and left it for her to approve or reject any documents.
This throne was most certainly hers to make or break.
Mira was still lying there on the fainting couch resting her eyeballs when she heard a soft sighing sound coming from the doorway.
Her eyes flew open.
At the doorway was the Dolmian representative wearing dark grey overalls with the blue insignia of Dolmia. He was a short stocky male with swarthy skin and a mostly bald head. His beady black eyes shifted nervously as he looked around the room.
He seemed quite nervous.
Mira knew what a mole looked like, and she had to agree with Jana's assertion that the dolmians were not chimera. They were simply midgets with darker skin and much less hair than the dwarves who had pale skin and were quite hairy.
"Come. Have a seat." Mira waved her hand and pointed to an upholstered chair near the chaise lounge she was 'fainting' on.
The man bowed and hesitantly made her way towards Mira. When he got closer to her, he chose to stand rather than sit at the chair she proffered.
"Greetings, Your Majesty. My name is Oliver Gordon. I am the Dolmian Miner's Representative sent to meet you."
"Good afternoon Oliver Gordon. Please have a seat."
"If you don't mind, I would prefer to stand."
"I don't mind. I just think you'd be more comfortable sitting down."
"Please pardon me, Your Majesty. I cannot sit in your presence."
Mira pursed her lips. Was she that despicable?
"Do as you wish, Oliver Gordon." She shifted in her chaise lounge until she was more upright. "I hear that you have a few questions and concerns for me."
"Your Majesty, I have a few small questions from the dolmian miners that I was...assured you would be willing to answer."
At Mira's urging, he pulled out a small sheet of paper and began reading them out to himself in a soft sing-song manner, as if trying to reassure himself.
"We would like to know several things. Firstly, what happened to Duchess Hilda Cartier. Is she...dead?"
Mira sighed. Although she was not the one directly responsible for the death of the Duchess, she was still the person behind the death penalty. She could not escape the blame.
"We were discussing the sharp spike in dolmian prices. One of the dwarves accused Duchess Hilda Cartier of price-fixing by hiking taxes." She paused.
Oliver Gordon was wringing his hands, almost shredding the paper he was holding.
"The high cost of doImia was causing the general cost of transporting goods to be far above normal. It was stressing the process of getting food and supplies to all the areas of the Empire. People were starving while food was spoiling at the farms."
"Your Highness…" Oliver Gordon stopped. There was a lengthy pause, as if he could not find the words to continue.
Myra pushed on. "I became concerned. I asked her what the tax hike was for and if there was any way we could help her with whatever she needed the tax for. She refused to say what the cause was and shut the conversation down."
Oliver Gordon looked down at his shoes.
"I then told her that if she did not disclose her reasons for the sudden price hike, I would have to secure the mines temporarily to alleviate the problem for everyone. It was then that she tried to attack me."
Oliver Gordon grabbed his chest in horror.
"There is only one penalty for attacking a reigning monarch, Oliver." She said with regret and sadness in her voice.
"Death," Oliver whispered. "So you did kill her."
"Yes. Yes I did." Mira gazed at him directly. She refused to pass the blame onto the Crown Prince for something that she directly caused.
Suddenly, Oliver Gordon fell on his knees. His head lowered until it touched the carpet under his feet.
Mira was startled and horrified. She was about to say something when she heard him cry.
"Oh thank you! Thank you for removing such a scourge on the world." Oliver Gordon wept.
"O--Oliver. Please get up."
The dolmian miner looked up from his prostrate position. "We are your loyal subjects, Your Majesty. Please stretch your wings over us in protection." He struggled to gain his footing.
"What would you like for us to do with the palace that the Duchess has left behind?" Oliver Gordon asked, after he had regained some semblance of composure.
"Is it still occupied?" Mira asked.
"Other than the servants who maintain the place, it is empty of anyone living there."
"How many servants?"
"There are roughly about 150 souls still living there, Your Majesty."
Mira nodded. It was true then that the Duchess had no heirs.
"Since you are already here in Dolmia, would you consider visiting your palace? The servants there would be reassured that you care about their welfare."
Mira let out a sudden breath of laughter. This was not what she was expecting. "I will visit the Dolmian palace. Tell them not to worry and that everything will be just fine."
Oliver nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. "There is one other issue remaining, Your Majesty."
Mira looked at him expectantly.
"We have not been paid for the dolmia we mined for the last twelve months. Our families are suffering…"
"Say no more," she stood up. "I will have Tinsel Pomfrey look into the matter. You will all be compensated for the missing year's worth of pay plus any damages due to the suffering inflicted on you. It will be very quickly solved."
Tears sprang to Oliver's eyes. "We are eternally grateful to Your Majesty. All Hail the Queen of the Northern Realm."
"How did you know…"
"You are wearing the crown of the Queen of the Northern Realm on your brow, Your Majesty. We, as one of the ancient races of humans, recognize your true position."