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This meeting should have been a letter, Ivy thought to herself.
She saw similar sentiments etched into the vacant, dead-eyed faces of her fellow Elyosian royals. Alfred had been staring, slack-jawed, at the same spot on the wall for the past fifteen minutes; Timerra’s hand beneath her chin was the only thing stopping her from faceplanting into the table; and even the Divine One looked like they were struggling not to fall into another thousand-year slumber.
Only Diamant was sitting up straight, resolutely copying down notes and nodding along to what Vander was saying. Maybe that was why Vander hadn’t taken the hint and hastened to wrap things up. Ivy had a great deal of respect for Vander, but in this regard, she was in full agreement with Clanne and Framme: when he droned on, he droned on. He made the Elusian aristocracy look like court jesters by comparison.
It wasn’t that the topic of the meeting – the allocation of the Firenesian militias that had joined the Divine Dragon’s army in droves following Florra Port – was irrelevant or unimportant. But this had to be the worst possible way to deliver the information: by reciting the names of every individual soldier that had been assigned to every battalion. In alphabetical order. Out loud.
“…Pierre Verdier, Zoë Vutton, and Dominique Young.” Vander adjusted his monocle. “Be it resolved that the following soldiers of the 18th Battalion of the People’s Army of Firene be assigned to our Bow Knight Corps.”
“I move to approve this allocation of troops,” said Diamant, the picture of protocol. “Does anyone second it?”
Alfred was silent.
Alear cleared their throat and gave him a well-placed kick under the table.
“Seconded!” Alfred scrambled to sit upright in his chair. “Yeah, I… I second the motion! Whatever it is!”
Vander raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “All in favour?”
The royals of Elyos each raised their hands, with Timerra using hers to not-so-subtly stifle a yawn.
“Excellent.” Vander jotted down the results of their decision in impeccable cursive. “Moving on to the 19th Battalion, then. Let us begin with the infantry troops.”
Ivy took an orange slice (thanking Alear for having the kindness and foresight to pick some fruit at the orchard before the meeting) and steeled herself for another onslaught of meaningless names. She strove to think of individual soldiers as people, always, rather than statistics, but it was difficult to keep their humanity at the forefront of her mind when their personhoods were diluted into mere names on an endless list.
A list that she could’ve read by herself in five minutes, mind, because this meeting, it could not be stressed enough, should have been a letter.
Vander took the next scroll of parchment from the pile and unrolled it. “The sword users of the 19th Battalion are as follows: Bertrand Boulle, Remí Bourdois, Adrien Cartier, Jean-Marie Chanel, Dick Hardman-”
“Kbtpsfch!”
There was a sudden, loud noise to Ivy’s left. It was an explosive sound, somewhere between the snort of a pig and the sneeze of a sheep.
Everyone at the table looked over to see Diamant hunched over, one hand firmly clamped over his mouth. The other, balled into a fist, was trembling with the effort of suppressing… something. His shoulders quaked.
“Prince Diamant?” said Alfred. “All good over there?”
After a pause, Diamant raised his head, his composed expression returning. He graced the table with an apologetic smile. “Pardon me. Simply a sneeze.”
“…Bless you,” said Vander, after an equally long pause. “As I was saying.”
“Yes, please continue, Sir Vander.” Diamant picked up his glass of water and took a lengthy drink.
As Vander picked up where he left off, however, Ivy’s attention remained on the prince sitting to her left, her curiosity firmly piqued. Vander’s endless recitation of names blurred into the background – all except for one name, which lay at the center of the question forming in her mind.
Dick Hardman? No, surely not. It can’t be that simple… can it?
She required more evidence. She finished her orange slice, biding her time. When Vander paused to take a breath, she seized the opportunity to strike.
“Pardon me, Sir Vander?”
“Yes, Princess Ivy?”
“I believe there’s a clerical error on the following page. If I could direct your attention to the soldiers listed under General Rousseau…”
Vander’s eyes scanned down the list. “To what do you refer?”
“Among the wyvern riders of the 17th Battalion was one Richard Swett.” Ivy kept one eye on Diamant. She carefully waited until he was raising his glass of water to his lips. “Yet under Rousseau’s contingent of axe wielders is a soldier by the name of Dick Swett-”
Diamant snorted again, slapping a hand over his mouth as his mouthful of water spilled down his chin.
Alear, Alfred, and Timerra exchanged quizzical looks as the Brodian prince doubled over in his chair. Vander, to his credit, did not acknowledge the disturbance.
“Yes, you’re correct. The two are related, you see – father and son. They enlisted together and were placed under separate commanders due to their gaps in military experience. Swett Sr. goes by Richard, while his son uses a nickname.”
Ivy nodded. “I see. So his son prefers Dick.”
“Hrbphmf!” Diamant made another noise, this one reminiscent of Sommie having an asthma attack, and ducked his head even lower. Not before Ivy spotted his eyes starting to water, though.
“Yes, that’s… correct.” Vander glanced at Diamant, clearly nonplussed. “Does that answer your question, Princess Ivy?”
“Yes, I am satisfied. Thank you. Prince Diamant, do you have anything to add?”
Diamant took a deep breath. “No…” He raised his head once more, shoving down the grin springing to his lips by running a hand down his face. “N-Nothing to add at this time, thank you.”
Vander’s gaze lingered on him for a long time – as did the gazes of Alfred, Timerra, and Alear, each of whom were trying not to smile. Ivy, meanwhile, did her best to hide her delight through another casual bite of orange.
She could barely believe it was that easy. But now that she was blessed with this knowledge…
As Vander droned on, she leaned to her left and dropped her voice to a murmur. “Prince Diamant, a word?”
Diamant, who was in the middle of taking deep breaths, glanced over at her. “What is it?”
“Would you happen to recall the name of the first lieutenant of the 15th Battalion?”
The Brodian prince sifted through his stack of parchment and spread out the correct page on the table. “That would be Lieutenant Hunter, I believe.”
“I see. Lieutenant R. Hunter…”
“First name Richard, if memory serves.”
“Yes, I think you’re right. It seems to be a common name in Firene.”
“Indeed.”
Ivy paused just long enough to lull Diamant into a false sense of security. “It’s fortunate that he chose not to shorten his name.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, with his name being Dick Hunter-”
She’d expected a beautiful reaction, but even so, what she got was beyond her wildest dreams.
“BWAHAHA!”
Everyone in the room jumped as laughter erupted out of Diamant like a volcano. He threw his head back and guffawed, his whole body shaking with the force of his mirth. It was one of the heartiest laughs Ivy had ever heard, and it was infectious. She had to bite her cheek to keep her face neutral.
Alfred was the first to crack. “What?” As Diamant gasped for air, he started to snicker. “What’s so funny?”
All Diamant could do was wave vaguely at Ivy, wheezing helplessly. “Di…” His attempts at words were choked out by giggles. “Dick Hunter…!”
Timerra wasn’t far behind Alfred, mashing her hands over her face. Alear, too, was grinning, only holding themselves together thanks to their proximity to Vander. Ivy didn’t think she’d ever seen Vander look more indignant.
“Prince Diamant, is something amusing to you?” he asked, his scowl deepening by the second.
“I’m sorry…” Diamant, coughing, struggled to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I’m so sorry… Forgive me… Haha…!”
“Honestly,” said Ivy, maintaining an expression of grave seriousness. “Your childishness astounds me. Just because a person has a name like Dick Hunter-”
“AHAHA!” Diamant collapsed onto the table, almost tipping over his glass of water. He clutched his stomach like a dying man and pounded the table with his fist. Alear, though they were laughing themselves, still had the faculties to reach out and catch Diamant’s arm before he slid right out of his chair. The same could not be said of Timerra and Alfred, who were cackling and howling respectively.
“Dick Ryder,” said Ivy, deadpan.
“Stop!” Diamant gasped. “Please, stop, I can’t- I’m going to-”
“Dick Stroker.”
“Aaaaah!” The squeal that came out of Diamant was almost indistinguishable from the noise a distressed Alcryst might make. He buried his face in his hands. “No, no, stop-”
Ivy leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “Dick P. Nhys.”
This time, Diamant skipped laughter altogether and went straight to crying. “Dick P. Nhys…!” he sobbed. “P. Nhys…!”
Vander, still standing with parchment in hand, could do nothing more than glare at the entire group of Elyosian royals – at Ivy, sitting in her chair with utter calm; at Alfred and Timerra, choking and in varying degrees of pain; and at Diamant, openly weeping, with the last of his dignity escaping him through involuntary squawks of mirth.
“I’m sorry-” Alfred tried to bow apologetically to Vander and mostly succeeded in coughing uncontrollably. “Oh, Divinity- I’m sorry, Vander-”
“I can’t-” Timerra shielded her face, sounding like a strangled goose as she attempted to speak. “I can’t look at you, Diamant-”
“Motion to-” Alear raised their hand, giggling. “I move to take a twenty-minute recess for- for everyone to calm themselves… Heehee… Sir Vander, i-is that, would that be…”
Vander looked at them all with the eyes of a disappointed father.
“Get out,” he said.
***
Fifteen minutes later, in the corridor, Diamant’s mirth had turned to righteous ire.
“Princess Ivy, what in the name of Elyos was that about?” he hissed, setting down his third cup of water.
“To what are you referring?” said Ivy sweetly.
“Don’t be coy with me. What possessed you to embarrass me in front of the Divine One and all our fellow royals?”
“As far as I’m concerned, you embarrassed yourself.”
“I did no such thing! In no world am I the instigator here. All because I found a certain combination of name and surname faintly amusing-”
““Faintly amusing?” Now who’s being coy? I feared you might laugh yourself into an early grave.”
“Clearly, you weren’t that concerned,” Diamant grumbled.
“Aw, c’mon, you two, don’t bicker.” Alfred moseyed over with a wide grin. “We all had a good time in the end, didn’t we? No harm done!”
“With all due respect, Prince Alfred, we were not attending that council meeting to “have a good time.” We were there to oversee the allocation of the Firenesian militias-”
“I know, I know! Trust me, as the prince of Firene, I’m as serious about that as you are. But I can’t be the only one who thought that meeting should’ve been a letter.”
Ivy gestured to him with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Same here!” Timerra piped up, ponytail bouncing as she skipped over. “Plus, y’know how everything becomes ten times funnier when you’re in a situation where you’re absolutely not supposed to laugh?”
“That happens to me all the time!” said Alfred. “There was this one funeral I attended for a nobleman a couple years back, and- oh, man, Céline still hasn’t forgiven me for it. Long story, though.” He patted Diamant on the shoulder. “Point is, don’t feel bad, buddy. It happens to the best of us.”
“And besides, it was hilarious!” Timerra snickered. “Who’d have thought the crown prince of Brodia had such a juvenile sense of humour?”
“Or the crown princess of Elusia,” said Diamant, scowling at Ivy.
“Come now,” said Ivy. “Don’t sulk. It was all in jest. A token of goodwill from Elusia to Brodia – from one future monarch to another.”
“And that’s exactly why I’m upset.” Diamant sighed. “We are royalty, Princess Ivy. Levity has its time and place, I would never deny that, but is it not our duty to carry ourselves with the seriousness that befits the council table and the war room?”
“I mean, you’re not wrong, but at the same time…” Alfred shrugged. “Isn’t wartime when some light-heartedness is needed most of all?”
“Hear, hear!” Timerra nodded in agreement. “Plus, we’re the new generation of rulers. We don’t have to do everything the same ol’ way our parents did. In fact, if we really want to change the world for the better, we probably shouldn’t.”
“An astute observation.” A smile crossed Ivy’s lips. “I can only speak for myself, but I found today’s proceedings to be a welcome change of pace. And if they are a reflection of how future meetings with you will go… then I look to the future with an eager heart.”
Diamant looked between the three of them, taking in their words with a steely expression that was slowly giving way to fondness.
“Very well, you’ve convinced me.” He sighed again, far less harshly this time. “I suppose all is forgiven. Though my pride may never be the same…”
“Not to worry,” said Ivy. “I admire your pride, but I like you far better without it.”
Diamant blinked, as if her words were a bright light he’d stared directly into by mistake. “Oh. I…”
Alfred and Timerra exchanged a knowing glance.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, everyone!” Alear came around the corner, arms full of fruit. “Sommie was even hungrier than usual today. Anyway, I picked some more fruit to keep us going through the second half of the meeting!”
“Bless you, Divine One,” said Alfred, accepting an orange and shoving it into his mouth, peel and all.
“No problem, Prince Alfred. Um, please don’t choke on that. So are we ready to get back in there?”
“Yes, Divine One.” Diamant bowed. “Once again, allow me to apologize-”
“I already told you, it’s all right! I’m not upset, and neither is Vander… much.” Alear chuckled. “You’re starting to sound like your brother.”
“Let us waste no more time,” said Ivy. “We still have a dozen battalions to review. And doubtless, more Dicks to welcome to our ranks.”
Diamant let out a sharp giggle, covering his mouth – then glowered at her. “Stop.”
“All right, that was the last one, I promise.”
With an exasperated huff, Diamant brushed past her, and Ivy followed. As they drifted back into the meeting room for more talk of army organization and troop allocation, Ivy’s mind drifted back to the sound of Diamant’s laughter. That unflattering, uproarious, utterly joyful sound.
Yes, all the evidence she’d acquired today pointed to one truth: she would never get tired of hearing that laugh as long as she lived.