Hester Quill stood at the center of the Parliament floor. Her ivory folio-knife was held poised in her fingers like an analytical balance. Beside her sat the ancient, iron-bound chest containing the original Latin charter granted to the Grand Adventurers’ Guild in Year 432 by King Edward the First—a four-foot parchment scroll inscribed in black monastic script. Its bottom edge was heavy with the great wax seal of the kingdom hanging from green silk cords.
Sir Reginald Thorne, the Guild’s chief solicitor, stood across the table, his powdered wig askew. His voice shook as he tried a desperate constitutional defense.
“The Charter of Year 432 is an unending royal promise!” Thorne argued, his hands waving wildly over his law books. “Under the Doctrine of Crown Prerogative, a corporate charter granted in perpetuity can’t be revoked by lawful enactment without the consent of the corporation itself! The Guild’s corporate personhood is an inviolable safe hall!”
Hester looked at the solicitor through her dual-lens glasses, her thin lips parting in a cold, razor-sharp smile. “You quote the Doctrine of Prerogative, Sir Reginald. Let’s read the actual Latin text of the instrument you claim is inviolable.”
She reached down, her ivory blade sliding beneath the third ribbon of the ancient scroll, unrolling the first two spans of thick parchment across the oak table.
