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Queen's Party

"I don't see why these people can't afford to drop ten thousand credits for an open bar for a thousand of their friends for four hours, I mean sheeeyitte!" The queen argues back.
"Open bar is usually ten credits per person per hour, so for three hours..."
"Four hours," she interrupts, curious to see what insight I might eventually offer.
"Four hours," I continue, "still, you charge for three hours as a discount, so thirty credits times one thousand people is thirty thousand credits." Her eyes light up as she glances over at the king in astonishment. "Just charge each person individually rather than a flat rate in advance and you triple your take for the gala," I finish.
"We can't," she argues, "We need a license to violate the peace agreement of selling spice at a party on that planet."
"But isn't that planet under goblin rule?" I ask.
"...and we don't know these people," she continues, interrupting me and ignoring my question, "any one of them could..." She stops. I got the idea, no need for wasted words that don't contribute to the solution at hand.
"Then we charge a flat fee per person and drinks are free," I offer.
"Well how is that different than paying the ten thousand flat for the party? The host will rather pay the ten thousand credits flat in advance," she argues back. The great king remains quiet on the couch across the room, allowing us to argue out a solution.
The representative of the hosting planet interrupts, "they said they might want to bring their own spice and spiced drinks," testing the arithmetic between us to see where he can loophole a cheaper rate.
"If they bring their own, you'd still violate the peace accord," I offer.
"I don't understand," the representative sneaks in between our open discussion of business strategy. I would have opted to discuss the business strategy in private, but comprehension is not a requisite for cooperation; not for me, and certainly not for this lowly representative whose name wasn't even offered in introductions. The phrase 'comprehension is not a requisite for cooperation' is becoming more and more famous throughout the kingdom as people continue to question the presence of a zen master among the goblin king's ranks, let alone my sudden promotion to the level of the queen's equal with regards to royal decisions. A rank even the great goblin king cannot attain with all his strength and mental prowess.
Never before has anyone dared replace the great goblin king's place next to the queen, especially not a zen master, someone who would normally fight with the rebels against goblin rule, but the path towards peace comes with a heavy price.
Of course the representative wasn't complaining that I was offering advice. No, his complaint is regarding an enemy helping the queen make decisions. But I am not an enemy of the queen. The queen rules over her dominion with equality to all factions, regardless of the struggles between them and regardless of the fact that her husband is a goblin, who remains quietly lounging across the room spectating and of course ready to defend the queen at a fraction of a moment's notice.
"Comprehension is not a requisite for cooperation," roared the great king at the first time he questioned the dynamic, curtailing the chances of any further inquiries or objections as to my role or position.
"Okay, then have someone sit at the entryway and sell certificates of spice rights. The peacekeepers don't accept any credits, not even tips. Each person takes the ticket to a keeper and exchanges it for a right of spice or a spice drink or whatever form of spice you decide to offer," I suggest as another alternative to what seems to be becoming lost business for the representatives.
"That would be in accordance with the agreement we made with that planet," agrees the queen.
"I don't understand," interrupts the representative again, now in regards to the disrespect he feels on behalf of his lord.
"Your lord must honor our agreement," states the queen.
"You don't need to understand!" Roars the great king again. I raise my hand to the king, suggesting he allow the queen and I to handle the servant's complaints, but instead, his brow lowers at my insolence.
"Spice is addictive," I admit, "nevertheless, it is legal in your planet in all forms," I say to the representative. "Here, it is only allowed in the dark market, so the rules are different. The queen will make a decision and inform your master. I think it best you return home now and let your lord know that the party will continue as scheduled. Do you agree my queen?" I ask.
"Yes I do, but I've already decided, so you can leave here with the proper message for your lord," she tells the representative, "We will sell spice tickets and serve ticket holders only. No credits will be accepted."
"But your majesty..." Argues the representative before being interrupted.
"You don't want to violate the peace we have now, do you? You are under goblin rule, peace or no peace."
"I understand," he concludes, bowing his head before exiting the room.
"Let darkness prevail," faintly slips in the room from the great hall.

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