The Complications of Rule

My dearest,

Inequity. I was thinking about inequities when I submitted my piece to the prince’s contest of arts. I know you said I should let it be, that I should work at my craft and keep my head down, but I had a hope, I suppose, of shaming him.

Anyway, I want you to know that to be the Royal Clockmaker doesn’t go without certain benefits.

I put all my savings into the clockwork box I submitted to the competition. The tiny chorus sang beautifully once the gears were set in motion, and I think that is what won it for me.

Now I’ve been summoned to the palace, and I will not forget why I began this venture.

Burn this letter, and any others I may send to you, as soon as you have read it.

My dearest,

The prince has put me in a workshop that is top of the line. “Spared no expense,” he kept repeating, “spared no expense.” He waddled around the room, touching delicate instruments and discarding them without any idea of their function. He quickly bored with each and moved on to the next shiny thing, which he also failed to understand. He is as we expected.

“It’s hard,” he said to me, at last, a delicate music box egg clutched in his hammy hand. He had requested it for his daughter, and now stared at it with an almost melancholy expression. “They don’t tell you that. I thought it would be easier. This is actually more work.”

“Yes, highness,” I agreed.

He sighed and a scent of sweetbreads wafted over me. “This piece is really very good.” He lifted the egg. “Good quality. Good craftsmanship. I like to have the best. Spare no expense.” He tucked the egg into his pocket. “You need anything, you just let me know. I’m a very wealthy man.” He walked past me, patted my shoulder in an absent sort of way, and retreated from the workshop.

As to that, it was a strange thing to assert. It seems the treasury is stretched rather thin. I haven’t visited it myself, of course, but suppliers are reluctant to extend credit to the prince.

The things I may need can be slow to acquire.

Even so, he returned yesterday, his pink face flush with a strange vigor. Due to the “unfortunate loss” of the previous princess, he has decided he will host a ball. “We’ll invite all the women,” he explained to me, moving his hands in the air as though he could conjure his vision. “Beautiful women in every direction, and I’ll decide which one I want.”

Indeed, he said so. And my part will be to create the wonders that will entertain his guests, to demonstrate his wealth and the technological mastery of our land. I’m to build a mechanical forest, filled with every kind of creature. So I begin.

Burn this letter when you have read it, as you did the last one.

My dearest,

You have no doubt heard about the ball. My mechanical birds were a success. I designed a dragon-like creature that was described to me by an explorer, recently returned from an expedition funded by the last prince. It’s called a croak-o-dial, and he said my clockwork did the real creature great justice — though not the fire-breathing bit, but the prince’s guests were delighted to roast nuts with it.

The prince, indeed, has selected a new consort, and there will be another celebration for the wedding. It’s to be an underwater theme, with the prince dressed as Triton. He’s having an island built in the center of the lake for the marriage ceremony. I’ve designed a boat with a paddle that propels itself around the lake to bring him to the island. The people are agitating here about the extravagance, the expense. I’m sure they must be there as well. He’s told his ministers to raise taxes, and has been using prisoners to dredge the lake. Store what you can, I fear there are lean days ahead.

Burn this.

Dearest,

I have asked the prince for an apprentice. He and his princess prefer to spend their days speeding around the lake in the boat I built. He wanted a faster one. He gave the original to his son. They held races, with the prince predictably winning each time, until his son would no longer race with him.

“I need a new boat,” he said when he walked into my workshop. “I need one that’s faster. Just like the last one you built. It should look the same. Just a little bit faster.” He squished one fleshy eye at me, I suppose winking. “You understand what I’m saying. My son doesn’t like to lose, so I’m giving him the other boat. But mine is better. You know what I mean. You’re a good guy. You’ll make me the boat, just like the last one. Just a little bit faster.”

So I requested an apprentice to help keep up with the other demands of the workshop — music boxes and clocks and the like. All was well, until the ministers refused to approve any of it — the apprentice, the funds, the supplies for anything — until the prince met with them. He has been avoiding council sessions, preferring to play with his boat.

“I’m the prince,” he told me, “they’ll do what I say. You just have to know how to talk to these people. Believe me. I know how to talk to them.”

True to his word, I did get my materials and my assistant. Wilhelm. He’s a good lad, and a quick study. The slightly faster boat is nearing completion with his help.

When the prince came to inspect it, he was pleased, but unhappy. “These meetings! You would not believe! Wouldn’t believe it! They are not believable, these meetings. I’m there all day. All they do is complain. And I tell them what to do and they have to do it. I’m the prince. Why, I ask you, do I have to sit in council meetings and…and give audience… to all these people? All day long? No. I’m a very wealthy man. I’m the prince.” At this he nodded sagely, and I nodded as well.

He looked at me. “Well… what are you going to do about it?”

“Sir?”

“What have you got for me?” he asked more loudly.

I asked him to come back once the boat was finished.

I’ve enclosed the designs for the croak-o-dial. See them into the right hands, and burn this letter.

My dearest,

I’ve made a music box of sorts. The bumps along the cylinder correspond to letters instead of notes, and thus they produce written instruction from the prince to his ministers. I encoded several with phrases the prince most often uses, and a printing machine was installed in the council chambers. So far the prince has been pleased with the results.

For a time, he had taken all the cylinders himself and was selecting and playing them according to his own thoughts. It turns out that when he came and collected the cylinders, he also grabbed up several musical pieces, and played those as well. This resulted in some strange poetry and nonsensical ramblings being sent to his council. Imagine my astonishment when no one noticed! Well, certainly some of the ministers protested that the prince was not taking matters seriously, but most of the others have adopted either an abashed posture and smile weakly through it all, or have stubbornly clung to the right of the monarchy to do as it will — and say as it will, too! No one has done a thing about it.

Soon, though, the prince found even this took more time from his boat than he wanted to give, and he has left it to me. Now that I know it doesn’t really matter what messages I send, it has also freed more of my time for our new little project.

I’ve heard there is rioting in the south from the food shortages. I hope you will tell me you are well. I’ve enclosed more designs. I know you will get them where they need to go. Remember to burn our correspondence.

My dearest,

I have presented our plans for the clockwork doll to the prince, and he has agreed.

“You see, highness, with the doll in place, it can sit in your audience chambers, or in council meetings, in your place. With your robes and crown, it will look very much like you. And you — ”

He was already rubbing his meaty hands together. “I like it. Yes. I approve.”

“This will free you to — ” I began, but he cut me off.

“I approve, I approve! What more do I need to say?”

I nodded, and remembered to smile. “I’ll begin right away then.”

“Yes. Do that. Also, the princess wants a shade…” He held his hands over his head like a grotesque ballerina. “A canopy. You understand. For the boat.”

“Of course, highness.”

He stretched his mouth in what I took for a smile. “I like you. You’re very good at what you do. It’s good. It’s good. Believe me.” He continued muttering similar phrases as he left the workshop.

It’s coming together now. Discretion will be more important than ever when we move forward. I will try to impress upon the prince the importance that no one know the clockwork doll isn’t him — I believe the threat of work will do the trick.

Burn this when you’ve read it.

Dearest,

The prince came into the lab, all bluster as usual. Wilhelm bowed and held the door, announced him politely, and then quietly excused himself. The prince kept his smile in place until the door closed and then rolled his eyes, “Please,” he huffed. “You know he’s just thinking he can’t wait till we’re not looking to stab us in the back.”

“Willhelm has been very loyal, highness,” I said mildly.

“Show me what you’ve got,” the prince said, already forgetting Wilhelm.

I showed him the clockwork man, the approximate build of the prince. “I’m having a porcelain face and hands made,” I told him. “The mechanism will be encased in a wooden chest and covered in clothing, of course. Wearing your crown, from a distance it should be nearly indistinguishable from you.”

“Good, good,” the prince leaned close, and his breath steamed on the inner workings. As he moved around the table, I tried to be discrete when I wiped the excess moisture from the complications. “It’s all running on time then,” the prince said, and paused expectantly.

I nodded and then forced a laugh at his joke when I realized he was waiting for it.

The prince clapped me on the back. “That’s what I like about you! You’re honest. You can take a joke.” He rubbed his hands together, or might have been wiping them off, it was difficult to tell. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, you let me know. Nothing is too much! I am a very wealthy man, you know. Very wealthy. I’ll get you what you need to make this happen.” He lifted a hand as he strode back to the door. “I’m off! I’ll be back to see it operational!”

Indeed, our initial testing is going quite well. It can move about to a limited degree, and even speak after a fashion. I’ve started introducing some of our own scripts into the music box cylinders, slowly, quietly, changing some of the dictates of “the prince.” I believe, soon enough, I can begin to mention the dissolution of the monarchy, once our friends have taken care of the real prince. I have hope that, once everything is in place, you will be able to join me here soon.

I’m sending you my designs for safe keeping. I advise, until all is resolved, that you burn my letters.