- Derrick -
Looking down at my boot covered in spit was something I wasn't used to. After all, twenty-seven years my life consisted of everyone serving me with no objections. If I wanted something, I received it - nary a question to be asked. I could have anything I desired with nearly no resistance. I had never come across a person who would not only talk back to me, but also insult, pity AND spit on me. My surprise exceeded even my brilliant intellect. For a brief moment, there was nothing I could say or do. It was as if her response caused an unusual feeling of appreciation which was completely absurd! I had always been told not to care about women - they were nothing but instruments used for trading, dancing for entertainment, and most importantly to continue our race. However, now I was actually thinking of how beautiful this little tart looked when she degraded me with such passion in her almond shaped eyes.
Only moments ago I was thinking that she was nothing but a defective tool that needed to be killed. Spurred on by the lais-a-fair way of her saying it was MY fault that she was here today, I had even raised my hand to slap her. As if it could possibly be my fault! It pissed me off that a woman - A WOMAN - would place blame on me and detachedly say she wasn't asked if she was a man or not.
Yet once she began speaking of why she was here, her honey-green eyes lit with a burning hatred I had never seen before. The way she cursed my empire with such fervor as her prominent cheekbones blushed pink caused a chord to be struck down deep inside me. It urged me to look closer at her appearance. Although she was covered in bloody sand, her figure was lightweight and fit which made me wonder how well she could fill out a dress. Choppy yet lustrous caramel-brown hair framed a face gracefully tapered toward her chin. An elegant nose drew my attention to her pouty red lips as she continued with her nonsensical words of change. I barely heard most of her little speech excepting that one sentence stood out - of me not being a King, just a wannabe. Remembering that sentence caused me to come back to reality; this woman could prove to be dangerous.
"You wretch! No one dares spit upon our King!" my right-hand man Captain Sarce was livid as he raised his sword to strike the woman down. For some strange reason, a ball of anger welled inside me - not for the woman but for the Captain instead.
Before the Captain could take another step I ordered him to halt causing his eyes to widened in disbelief. "Some of what this woman said intrigues me." I looked back at Ezran's shocked face, "You said you are here to witness and try to make sense of our kingdom. If that is so - does that make you a spy?"
A puzzled look appeared on her face making her go silent. I knew it was far-fetched about her being a spy, but for some reason I just couldn't allow the Captain to strike her down just yet. If she was a spy I could keep her alive a little while longer to get information out of her as I sorted out these new-found feelings. I didn't want to throw her away before figuring out what was wrong with me. She was the key to this new onslaught of sensations, and I would do anything to keep this key safe - at least for now. Key's could be thrown away later of course.
Without giving her a chance to reply I ordered the guard to take her to the dungeon. "This woman may have valuable information on our empire - we must make sure to find out who exactly she has been relaying this information to!" I then turned to Captain Sarce and said quietly, "Chain her up but make sure no man defiles her. Have the female slaves search her body for hidden weapons if need be. I do not want her killing any more of our men - let the women take the fall." My voice fell even lower as I whispered, "We need to make sure she knows nothing about the certain issue with Prince Baymun, therefore no one is to question her until I order, understood?"
Even though he still seemed shocked by my allowing her to live, my ever-trusty Captain bowed deeply, "Understood King Derrick." Satisfied, I watched them take her out of the arena.
"Brother, do you honestly think she is a spy?" Little Devin appeared skeptical as we headed back to the palace.
"But of course! You saw her fighting skills - the way she used assassin's weapons. She's obviously a spy! There's no other explanation for it. Why else would I allow a woman like her to live? She had the audacity to insult me to my face Devin!" I shook my head dramatically then sighed, "However, for the greater good of our empire I choose to overlook her impudence and focus on the matter-at-hand."
Devin tossed me a side-way-glance, but did not question my statement. Instead he asked, "Did you hear Captain Sarce call you King? He's being a bit premature don't you think?"
If not for the fact that my dear younger brother contained some use, I would have sliced off his head at his comment. However I needed him for a little while longer, at least until the official coronation.
"That was rather odd, but I wouldn't take it to heart Devin. We haven't heard from Baymun since his last battle in Masagonia. The fighters there are massive in size - everyone probably assumes that Baymun is dead. The rabble might have misunderstood with it being so long since they've seen their crown-prince. He probably just mistook Baymun's absence and thought I would be taking over the throne. Hopefully, we will get good news of our brother's safety within the next few weeks." I barely managed to choke out the last sentence. If Baymun were actually able to return here, I would be done for. Just thinking about the possibility caused goosebumps to appear on my arms and my breath to quicken. I must acquire a bride quickly if I wanted to make a grab for the throne, just in case Baymun actually escaped my assassination attempt.
"Even so, you should have the Captain flogged for his wayward tongue." Devin persisted.
"Splendid idea Devin! As usual, you have the most brilliant way of handling things. I will definitely make sure Sarce is sufficiently flogged once he makes his way back to the palace grounds. I'm sure he is probably busy dealing with that vile woman right now, but rest assured once he is done with his duties, he will receive due punishment." I smiled at my younger brother then patted him on the head. He reluctantly gave a small smile as we continued on to the palace.
- - - -
I reached my quarters to find a quite place to rest. Even though I knew the delegates from Crawfond were expecting a banquet, I ordered it to be postponed to give me time to think. They could wait a couple days, surely.
But I needed time to think.
Obtaining the title of King was a hard thing to do. I knew that my trying to get the crown while brother was away seemed a little underhanded, but what else could be done? He had been gone for two years now, not stopping by even once to check on the kingdom's status. It wasn't fair that he was older - it was only by one year anyhow. How come he gets to be the crown-prince while I had to settle all the tasks at home-base? He didn't even seem to want it - Father had been dead for nearly half-a-year now. But my plans for the crown seemed to be coming to fruition. Although I hadn't heard back yet on whether the assassination was a success, no news was good news, right? And even if it didn't work, my back-up plan seemed to be panning out well.
The delegates from Crawfond were willing to back me up if I wanted to take the crown, along with the Masagonians. All I had to do to surpass 'Crown-Prince Baymun' was be deemed worthy by at least two sovereign powers, marry a suitable breeder that would ensure strong bloodlines, and to announce a coronation. If my brother was dead or chose not to object, I would be free to rule. However, if he did object, we would have to battle so I could try and take his rank. I shuddered to think about having to fight him. 'That must be avoided at all costs!'
Shaking my head to clear out the bad-thoughts, I thought back to my schemes. I have completed the first step. Now was the time to decide upon a sufficient bride. For some strange reason, that stupid woman popped into my head. Well, she was powerful . . it would definitely ensure strong offsprings. However before I could even entertain such a notion, that blasted tongue of hers would need to be sliced off. Women, no matter if she made me feel different, were not allowed to speak if at all possible.
Thinking of speaking, she had a lot to say about our civilization. Could she really have been gathering information to take back to someone?
Although I had made up the notion that the woman Ezran was a spy, it now began to plague my mind. 'What if she really was a spy?' It wouldn't make sense as to why she would be from Eurosia though. From what I could recall, Eurosia was in the badlands - a decimated wasteland dying from lack of male genes to carry on any bloodlines. Even so, it was still possible.
I stood up to pace around my room. 'What am I going to do with her?' Typically I would have an enemy tortured, however I just couldn't bring myself to do that to such a perfect body. Speaking of, most of her body was hidden under that ridiculous get-up . . .
An idea began to form. I remembered a lesson back when I was younger, 'You attract more bees with honey than with vinegar'.