Jack shoveled food into his mouth in a not-so-kingly way, sitting at the head of the palatial refectory table stretching far down the dining hall. The regal King's chair he utilized mimicked the rest of the furniture in the palace, simple yet stylized and grand. I sat directly to his right, back stiff and perfectly still, no longer audacious enough to act impudently. The ornate ceramic plate in front of me was decked in a dainty arrangement of foods; the leg of a medium-sized bird glistened golden-brown with savory juices, mystery vegetables of every color of the rainbow were glazed with a reddish dressing, and vivid purple potatoes lay decadently under a soft fried egg with a vermillion, runny yolk.
Jack ate rapidly, his apparent focus solely on the plate but his mind elsewhere. He sat on the very edge of his dramatic seat, which was pulled out to ensure he could leave as quickly as possible. He reminded me even more of an animal, constantly alert for danger as he remained vulnerable while devouring his meal.
To my wonder, however, he managed to remain painstakingly clean. Never once did liquid stain the corners of his mouth or his clothing, each stab of the fork and incision of the knife surgically precise.
I, meanwhile, did not deign to lay my fingers on the delicate silverware or take a bite of the inviting poultry. My stomach growled obnoxiously, and I was very hungry, as I could not remember a day in which I was actually satisfied. I swallowed dryly, hands on my lap gripping at the cloth of my skirt.
"Eat," Jack demanded after leaning against the backrest having finished. His portion was double mine, yet the plate was wiped clean save for the bones. He ate a lot…
I did not want to eat his food and give in to him, but at the same time, I so desperately wanted it. How many people like me toiled the fields day and night to grow the vegetables and tend to the animals just to produce this one meal? How, in good conscience, could I sit comfortably and gorge myself on the hard work of other starving individuals while I did nothing to earn it from them?
"Eat," Jack emphasized again. "Or I shall tell you nothing."
I hesitated a second before picking up the fork and gingerly penetrated a piece of potato before placing it onto my tongue. It was absolutely delicious, that was correct, but the way that Jack stared at me expectantly made it immediately sour in my mouth. I put down the fork after I swallowed, forcing myself to look directly into his eyes.
"Fair enough," He muttered before pulling my plate towards him and idly began to nibble on another potato. "Ask."
My breathing turned shallow from anxiety, thus I said the first thing that came to mind. "You eat a lot..."
"And?"
"You don't look like someone who does."
"My body is less efficient than yours." Jack propped his elbow on the table, cheek resting on his fist. "Whereas you eat one portion, I must eat double or even triple to be as satisfied as you. Just as you sleep seven hours a night to function well, I must sleep at least twelve."
"Are all Elves like that?"
"To an extent. But I am hit the worst by this factor, for I am the closest living relative of the Ancient Fae."
"Is that why you are King?" Jack glanced his eyes to me in an annoyed reaction, and I felt like I made a mistake.
"I hate to admit it, but yes, that is entirely why I am King." I was bewildered that he would actually humble himself in that way to me.
"Well, how does it make you any different?" I continued to push.
"It's astonishing how little you know about the hierarchy in the kingdom you've lived in all your life." Jack adopted a condescending tone that was no longer so subtle.
"Your kingdom doesn't exactly allow proper education for humans…" I muttered bitterly, his eyebrows angled vexatiously.
"You are at the very bottom," He started pleasantly, "then come humans who had some sort of implication with Elves," Rape, he meant, "followed by Elves who had implications with humans," Semis, "then regular Elven citizens, nobility, and myself, respectively."
"I understand that; you're not answering my question."
"I'm getting there, be patient," Jack hissed. "Do you see how it is all dependent on blood, on your birthright?"
"Yes..."
"Thus, as you climb the pyramid, the populations become less and less recognizable-- less human."
"So you are the most animalistic?" I said without thinking, then immediately blushed.
"A rude way to put it, but indeed," he bared his teeth in a disparaging smile.
"Alright, but I still don't understand. You don't appear any different than Taro or any other noble."
"Clearly you haven't been paying attention to me, Syndra." Jack's voice swam in arrogance, then he cynically added, "And how, exactly, have you come to know Kingesley?"
"I... we talked a bit..." I trailed off as I studied Jack's face. Compared to my mental image of Taro, Jack was a tad more exaggerated in his features and proportions. His ears, limbs, and neck were longer, and I recalled that he was substantially taller. Yet, in my opinion, these differences seemed too slight to indicate Jack's superiority.
"Making friends already? Why am I not one of them?"
My cheeks grew hot again. "I'm not making any friends."
"I see, I shall stop my interrogation. I'm making you uncomfortable again."
"Why do you say that?"
"You turn beet-red every time I make eye contact with you."
Do I? I desperately wanted to hide my face from his roving eyes.
"Well, that is enough for this conversation." Jack pushed himself away from the table and stood up.
"What? You avoided telling me anything about yourself," I muttered indignantly as I clumsily followed his lead.
"I told you quite a bit. Perhaps next time you should choose your questions more wisely," He jeered. "Now tell me, attendant, what is there for me to do today?"
"Nothing. Your day is free, like most days, Your Kingliness."
"How fortunate." Jack's eyes dilated eagerly. The Elf started to head back out of the dining hall doors, then halted in the entryway, turning his head to look at me with half-lidded eyes. "Hello?"
He beckoned to me to come with his finger. "Oh!" I exclaimed before rushing to his side.
"Where are we going?" I dared to ask as we started walking.
"The Grand Marshal's office."
"Who?"
"Head of the military and my successor should I die or do something very stupid. You'd recognize his name."
"And his name is..."
"Ryu Alighieri, as you would know him."
"He is real?" I inquired in disbelief. That name was the blight of any Senkyan human's childhood, a sort of Elven bogeyman mothers used to keep mischievous children in line.
"Of course he is. A master at every kind of torture," Jack piped, expression giddy as my eyes widened. "He was flattered when the stories began to circulate years ago."
"Those fairytales were around when my great-grandparents were children," I mumbled. I knew that Elves had longer lifespans than humans, but that seemed like a stretch.
Jack turned the corner then stopped before yet another set of wooden doors. "Twenty years, fifty years, a century. It's all the same to me."
"How old are you?" I prodded, skeptical.
"I cannot respond to that." I scowled and pursed my lips. He sounded like he was hiding something, which of course he was, but it didn't click why he would hide his age.
"I'm not hiding anything, Syndra." He read my mind; I was so predictable it was downright humiliating. "I just don't know."
"You are seriously telling me that you don't know your own age."
"I don't!" Jack placed a hand on his hip. "Thus allow me to think. I was twenty when I established the country of Senkyo, which would now make me around—"
"Don't," I yelped, not sure whether he was mocking me or being honest. "Don't gloss over what you just said. You've been the only king Senkyo has ever had?"
"Yes, which means that I am approximately two-hundred years old, give or take a few decades."
I stepped back away from him. The more I learned, the more I found out how truly outlandish Jack Pyre was, and my stomach wasn't sure how to take it. It took every ounce of strength in my body to not vomit all over the King's shiny high-heels, and even so, I found myself gagging.
His Majesty giggled— yes, giggled— before saying nonchalantly, "Nausea is not the response I'd imagined."
"I'm sorry I can't process the fact that you are over ten times my age."
"Perhaps this makes you come to terms better," His tone went flat again. "Mentally and developmentally, my age is equivalent to a thirty to forty-year-old human."
"No, you're making it worse. You look in your mid-twenties, at most."
"Have you ever seen an old-looking Elf? No, because they don't exist. We don't age physically as you do."
My head was spinning; I couldn't handle this constant informational overload. Everything I once knew about this world was turned upside down, and I realized many things I had considered impossible were likely possible. We had been isolated for so long, and every blow of new knowledge sent me reeling as they made it more and more clear to me that I was innately inferior to this awful… thing in front of me.
"We should get going." Jack looked down at me, strands of blonde hair draping in front of his sharp face. No, he's not attractive, Syndra, stop it. Stop it!