History had long proved that people often took out their pain and frustration on smaller groups. To prevent themselves from becoming such victims, Natra’s Flahm had to live each day as model neighbors.
“I’ve never once believed humanity blessed of infinite goodness. Minorities like us must fight to squeeze in the margins. We need others to understand us, so our best hope is to promote awareness and make a good impression.”
“I’d expect no less from an aide.” Levan’s tone carried no sarcasm. He spoke from the heart and seemed to admire Ninym’s growth. “I also believe this push for independence is foolhardy. For the sake of Natra and the Flahm, we should remain model citizens. However…” A shadow crossed Levan’s face, but he spoke again before Ninym could react. “The bigger question is how we can realistically halt this movement. Your position has become quite precarious.”
“…Yes, the situation can no longer be ignored. We must pacify the Flahm by any means necessary.”
But how? Ninym had a feeling her words would fall on deaf ears, and any forceful attempt to silence the revolutionists would only fan the flames.
The pragmatic aide within her found the answer immediately.
The quickest method…would be my death.
The revolutionists carried high hopes for Ninym, their symbol. Her demise would surely drop them into despair and crush their momentum for decades. Regrettably, Ninym had no death wish, so that idea needed to be discarded.
“Ninym, I intend to gather other anti-revolutionists. Our protests will be drowned out unless we unite,” Levan explained.
“In that case, I, too—”
“No, stay put. You’ve already expressed your disapproval, and the pro-independence faction might act recklessly if you push harder. Your best bet is to keep the dialogue open and convince everyone there is still room for persuasion.”
Ninym reluctantly agreed.
A stampede of freedom-crazed Flahm. Fractures. Internal discord. She wanted none of it.
“I’d like to keep this matter between us, so please do not discuss it with anyone, Ninym. Even Prince Wein.”
“That’s—” Ninym began, but Levan cut her off again.
“This matter is extremely dangerous. It could even be considered treachery against Natra. The Flahm’s growing influence has already captured the nation’s attention. To avoid potential interference, we must hide all weakness.”
Levan’s words were eloquent yet firm. “Ninym, I understand you are loyal to Prince Wein. Yet at the same time, you wish for your people to be happy. Once this is over, I will reveal all to His Highness, take responsibility, and step down as leader. Until then, keep this matter to yourself.”
“…”
Ninym’s gaze wandered to the ceiling before she closed her eyes and frowned for a little while. She tried to reconcile her frustration with the predicament. When she couldn’t, she let out a heavy sigh.
“I am not His Highness’s only source of information. If he asks about it, I’ll give an honest reply. Until then, I’ll say nothing.”
“That is enough. I appreciate it.”
Levan bowed his head, and Ninym quietly sighed again.
Ninym excused herself from Levan’s room and hurried to Wein to perform her usual duties. The recent upsets in the Flahm were severe, but no worry excused her from work. Ninym vowed to carry on as usual.
That didn’t last long, though.
“What’s up, Ninym? Why the long face?”
Ninym pursed her lips at Wein’s sudden question. “…There is contention among the Flahm.” It wasn’t a lie. Since she was Wein’s aide, deceiving him was unthinkable. Besides, he’d see straight through her. “There’s no need to worry. Master Levan and I will handle it.”
Ninym concealed her bitter feelings behind a smile. It seemed to work, and Wein’s reaction was lukewarm.
“A disagreement, huh? Well, Natra’s speedy progress has brought increased reports of trouble across the country.”
“Exactly. It’s a shame that our prosperity hasn’t brought happiness to everyone.”
Still, a bit of extra coin in people’s pockets doubtless solved a problem or two.
The worst could be avoided so long as Natra’s good fortune persisted. A few skirmishes might even lead to future harmony. How would a true period of adversity affect the kingdom, though? Would it spell the end for the nation’s windfall?
“Speaking of arguments, Falanya and I had an interesting conversation yesterday.”
“Huh? Oh, come to think of it…”
Ninym had been preoccupied with the earlier meeting, but Wein’s talk with his sister was also a matter of concern. It couldn’t have been too dire if Wein’s indifference was any indication.
“Falanya declared war against me.”
“…What?” Ninym all but choked out the word.
And who could blame her?
“Arghhhhhh.”
While Ninym was stunned, Falanya was writhing on her bed.
“I can’t believe I said it… I actually told Wein…”
Falanya wailed as she suffered the agony of yesterday’s conversation over and over.
“Can you please get over it already?” Nanaki asked tiredly from his spot leaning against the wall.
Falanya wore her heart on her sleeve, which meant she had trouble getting out of a slump. She’d done all she could to prepare herself for the talk with her brother, yet she now anguished over it. She couldn’t carry on like this forever, though. Falanya was only hurting herself.
“Do you regret yesterday?” Nanaki questioned.
Falanya went still. “I don’t,” she replied, her answer muffled by the pillow she pressed her face into. “It was essential for me, Wein, and Natra.”
The memory of Wein’s response when she’d asked what he thought of Natra and its people remained fresh in her mind.
“Have you been talkin’ to Zenovia?” he asked lightly despite Falanya’s serious tone. “Politicians all think of the citizens differently. Some view them as cattle or possessions. To others, they’re like adorable pets. In any case, most regard the public as lesser. A politician’s authority, influence, and bloodline place them above ordinary people, after all. But I’m different,” Wein explained. “I consider us accomplices, Falanya.”
“Accomplices?” The unexpected word threw her off guard.
“Yes. The people are not cattle, possessions, or pets. Without them, we’re powerless, our authority is revealed to be smoke and mirrors, and every noble lineage becomes a sham. There is no hierarchy between politicians and the rest. Our roles may be different, but we stand side by side.”
“…”
“Does that mean the two sides can get along as friends or kindred souls? The answer is a resounding ‘no.’ Although we stand next to each other, the gap between us is wide. Politicians cannot pay attention to each individual, and the politicians’ troubles are too great for the masses to understand. One cannot understand the other. They are neither master and servant nor friends. However, something needs to connect them.
“The solution is mutual benefit, where each side can tip the scales. We take any opportunity to make a profit, then abandon ship if things don’t pan out. That’s what makes us accomplices. This intimate yet tenuous relationship between legislators and the public is ideal, and I think both have a duty to maintain it.”