One way to solve a problem is to create a second, much worse problem, making the first seem quite manageable by comparison. Once you are in the throws of this new obstacle, the solution to the first will quickly seem obvious and simple. I know this from experience - my own assassination attempt now seems quite solvable, a drop in the bucket, compared to the problems that followed.
Let me start from the beginning, with problem number one.
My name is Marie, and I am a distant cousin of the previous king of the Southern Lunar Nation. Our nation, and our monarchy, was formed out of colony a few centuries ago, after a rebellion against political influence from earth. We have enjoyed peace since, and slowly have become more democratic, like our northern neighbors. The citizens of our nation are granted the power to veto by vote many actions of the king - including, but not limited to, choosing a heir to the throne in the absence of a living son or daughter.
Which is exactly what our previous king did, writing his choice into his will mere days before passing suddenly in his sleep.
The morning after his death my family's butler, Fredrick, came to my quarters three times to deliver a message. The first was to tell me that the king had passed away suddenly, and that the general public had not yet been informed. The second was to tell me that his will had been read, that he had chosen me to be his heir, and to stay put until further instructions. Before I could fully process this news - I'd met the king on a number of occasions and he'd seemed to like me, but hadn't thought I'd be included in the will at all, let alone be given the most important piece of his estate - Fredrick was at my door again. His third message was an invitation to an impromptu dinner celebrating my selection.
I frowned when he delivered this last piece of information. He simply stood there in the doorway, waiting for me to respond. Fredrick was a tall, lamppost of a man, whom many had described as cold and skeletal in nature - but they didn't spend as much time with him as I did. He wore a smile often, but usually sat in his eyes rather than across his mouth.
It had been missing when he'd delivered the first message, and present when he delivered the second. Now it was gone again.
"An impromptu dinner? Since when does anyone in the royal court do anything spontaneous?" I had tried, on multiple occasions, to organize casual get-togethers with other royals, with little success. Asking people here to do so much as spend the afternoon at a skeet shooting range required a month of planning and half a dozen staff members, much to my eternal confusion.
"Yes, that is the message I was told to deliver to you, Lady Marie."
He spoke carefully - everyone in the castle did. There were bugs in the wall - not an insect invasion but an invasion of privacy, all in the name of security. As far as I knew, the constant surveillance of royal property did little to deter crime and treason. Instead it deterred everyone from saying what they really thought. No one liked the system, at least as far as I could tell given that no one could talk about it. Perhaps I would be able to get rid of the bugs when I was queen.
"It sounds... quite spontaneous," I repeated. "What do you think my father would say, if he were here?" It was a trick we all used. Everyone was more likely to say what they thought if it were through someone else's mouth, particularly if that person was in a position of high authority. My father didn't mind that I invoked his name so often in this way, and even if he did, today he was out on business on the other side of the solar system with the rest of my immediate family.
"I think he'd tell you to look into it further. You've suddenly been given a lot of authority, and... it would be prudent for you to start exercising more caution. Perhaps some investigation into this invitation would be good practice for the sort of shrewdness you will need, as queen."
"That does sound like him, Fredrick. Although... I only get that authority if its not vetoed away from me. The chances of that have to be pretty high, don't they?" The king had started to become senile during the past few years of his life, and most of his actions had been quickly vetoed by either committees of the aristocrats around him, or by the general public. Given the fact that I was only twenty years old and people had little faith in the king's judgment at this point, another veto seemed likely.
Fredrick smiled. "Ma'am, your approval rating is over 65%. The latest polling data came in just a few weeks ago."
"That... sounds quite high. Is that high?" I never looked at the polls. I figured once I started reading them, I'd never be able to stop checking, comparing myself to the other royals. That didn't seem like a great idea for my mental state, not to mention my relationships with my peers.
"It's high. Not the highest, by any means, but well above the average. And well deserved, I might add." I shook my head, but said nothing, reminding myself that we were in the castle. Surrounded by electronic bugs, skittering through the rafters and happy to report on anything said against a member of the royal family.
"Thank you. Now, what are we going to do about this dinner? Hypothetically speaking, using this as an exercise in prudence, if it were real..."
"It would look awful for you not to attend. If it were not..."
"If it's not, I wouldn't have to worry about that for very long." A veto wasn't the only thing that could stop an heir from ascending the throne. A sudden death would also do the trick. Once I was queen, I'd have the benefit of all the security I could ever want. But I wasn't Queen today, and I couldn't be seen acting as such by the general public yet. It would be a few more days until I had the option to walk around with half a dozen body guards at my side.
"Sounds like I need to visit the kitchen," I declared. "They're all terrible gossips over there, if something seems wrong, they'll know."
I paused at my vanity before we left the room and, after a moment of hesitation, picked up the wig that was displayed there on a plastic head. It was the trend for lunar women to dye their hair purple. The day before I was scheduled to obey this social phenomena myself I'd realized I could wear a wig instead of dying my own hair. Most people didn't know that the purple was fake and that my black hair was the real thing. I assumed I wasn't the only woman who'd done this, but no one brought it up. The bugs probably didn't report on such minor complaints and deviations from the norm, but it was hardly worth the risk.
I put the wig on and tucked my real hair into it, picked a loose thread off the collar of my dress once I noticed it in the mirror, then left my quarters.
Fredrick followed me down to the kitchen. We went in through the back, avoiding the other royals in the building while we tried to find a cook with a moment to spare. Specifically, the head cook Amalia.
A few degrees warmer than the rest of the building, the kitchen was filled with half a dozen ovens and twice as many people. When we arrived there was someone else already there who was not a cook or member of the staff. A tall figure I didn't recognize, who’s appearance was mostly that of a middle aged man and partially that of a vulture, was towering over Amalia. I couldn't hear the words he was saying, but I could see Amalia flinch as he spit them across her face.
Fredrick and I watched him leave, then waited a moment before entering.
First story of yours I've read. Instant subscription. I'll be moving right along to the next chapter. Great setup with the two 'problems' at the start - I'm already trying to figure out which of these servants can't be trusted...