Jack pulled open the door, letting in the jarring light of the outside world. It pricked uncomfortably at my eyes, causing me to scrunch up my face until my vision adjusted. The Elf stepped back behind me as he held the door, and I understood that he wished me to go first. I complied and emerged out onto the balcony, a staircase before me descending into the wide expanse of the palace gardens. Pathways twisted around rows upon rows of immaculately trimmed hedges and exotic trees. Flowers of nearly every variety— prominently roses— dotted the gardens in full bloom alongside boughs bountiful with fruit. Which was curious, because the fruits I recognized definitely did not ripen this late in the year.
"What do you think?" He gestured to the gardens after he resumed his position beside me.
"Pretty," I muttered. "Can I ask you one more question?"
"As many as you'd like, my lady."
"I'm pretty sure the kingdom of Senkyo is older than two hundred years old, so why...?"
"It is true. The queendom of Senkyo, however, lasted for centuries prior."
"So you technically are the only king Senkyo has ever had."
"Correct," He placed a hand on my waist and I gave him a bold glare I didn't regret.
"I'd rather you not touch me so casually, sir."
"Of course." Jack's hand retreated, but not before lingering gently on my skirt. I doubted that he had ever been told "no", thus I felt smug for denying him.
"Anyways," He started. "My mother was the Queen of Senkyo, my father by her side as a royal advisor. We do not marry as humans do, thus he never was King."
"What happened to either of them?" I felt compelled to push.
"They died," He spoke curtly. "By my hand."
A roundabout way to say that he killed them. By this point, I have grown increasingly numb to the Elven world, so I couldn't say I was surprised that Jack Pyre was also his parents' murderer.
"Why?"
"You seem to really enjoy that word, Syndra." Jack led me down the marble stairs. "It is a lengthy story. Senkyo under my mother's rule was unrecognizable compared to what I have made it to be. She reigned over this nation poorly, ignoring advantages and forging alliances with those that could exploit her. And so she was exploited; every human ruler believed it was their right to receive aid from my mother and our kind."
"It sounds to me that she was charitable and desired peace," I interjected, finding the thick bias in Jack's words. We had reached the end of the long stairway, and now the Elf guided me down a path to our right.
"She was a fool," He snapped. "They drained us of our gold, of our soldiers, of our land. And she knew I was not like her and did not share her weak heart. My mother and father never wanted a male anyway."
"So they tried for a girl," I completed his thought.
"Yes, they did, for years. When I was eighteen, they succeeded."
I halted suddenly. "Don't tell me..."
"That was when I did the necessary deed." Even now, his expression was entirely blank.
"Do you regret it?" I inquired. Truth be told, I did not flinch. Tales told me what he was capable of, and he only confirmed it. That was why I was so awfully afraid yesterday. My excuses for being weak-willed are valid, do not scold me for trembling before a demon.
"No." Jack kept walking, and I caught up. "I don't regret anything I've done."
He stopped in front of the palatial wing, which mimicked the style of the rest of the gigantic establishment. His eyes set on me, he leaned back against one of the thousands of pillars that swooped into an arch overhead, his thumbs hooked in his pockets. Behind him were two new doors identical to the previous.
"We're done with questions now, alright?" Jack's countenance was on the border between bored and irritated, so I knew to shut up.
"Alright," I nodded.
"You first, Syndra." Jack gestured to the door. I hesitantly inched over and held my fist in the air, not daring to knock. "We don't have all day," He hissed suddenly, making me wince.
I rapped cautiously against the wood, and immediately I was met with a slightly raspy male voice with a thick Elven accent. "Come in, come in."
I leaned my weight against the door and it swung open, Jack already at my heels. I stepped into the Grand Marshal's office, a large room barely smaller than the King's chambers. Except this one was more utilitarian in its furniture and decor, lacking the vain luxury I now associated His Majesty with. A strange, overpowering smell hung low, causing my eyes to water and my throat to itch.
Behind a long desk at the very front of the room sat the head of the Senkyan military himself. To say the least, he was an interesting persona…
One of his legs was propped up high on the desk, the other tucked in with his foot resting on the seat of the chair in one of the most awkward positions I had ever seen. Between his lips, he puffed at something much resembling a cigarette, which explained the cough-inducing odor. His hair was jet black, straight, and very long, half of it pulled back into a glossy tail. The Elf's face was pale, yet not as pale as Jack's, and his large, coffee brown eyes slanted upwards at the ends. Something about him was familiar, and I realized quickly that he was the Elven noble Taro had been speaking with before I had interrupted the other day.
It took my brain a few moments to process what I was really seeing, because behind Ryu Alighieri stretched not one, but two sets of massive wings. They were mostly white and mottled with black and brown spots, much like a calico cat, and several of the feathers at the ends looked to be as long as my arms. Naturally, I was in awe. Taro seemed like a sparrow compared to him.
"And who might you be?" Alighieri moaned breathily, entirely ignoring Jack's presence.
"Syndra Elwood, sir." I was not going to be intimidated, not by him.
"Ryusei!" Jack barked, sauntering up to the Elf before slamming his hands down on the desk.
"Yes, that is my name," Ryu's, or Ryusei's, as Jack said, eyes were glazed and his face slack with tranquility. In other words, he was most definitely not sober.
"You're getting high on the job, again." Jack hissed, but something about his tone lacked any actual anger, as though Alighieri was immune to discipline. In a lightning-fast movement, Jack snatched the cigarette out of the Elf's mouth and snubbed it directly on the desk, to Alighieri's faint dismay. "But now I find you with your wings out like this."
Taro had said it was a sign of disrespect, but the Grand Marshal did not seem to care, even in the presence of His Majesty.
"Apologies, my King. I had to air them out a bit," He stated, before turning his attention to me. "Ryusei Alighieri, fine lady. Not Ryu, preferably; I am not certain where that nickname originated from..."
"A pleasure," I responded quietly. Tucking his four wings behind him, Ryusei managed to somehow raise himself to his feet gracefully. Despite being high on the mystery drug he was smoking, he maintained a formal, elegant aura, his tone polite and his actions calculated. It made me wonder how he acted while sober.
Alighieri strode over to me and, out of nowhere, began to play with a strand of my hair. Instinctually I tried to pull away, but he held on tight and wrapped it around his finger.
"Why do you try to leave? Do you hate me? What have I done to you?" Something dark began to brew behind Ryusei's polite-expression, and his wings melted away into him and out of sight.
In confusion, I looked over at Jack for assistance. He held up a hand and instead began to count down the seconds on his fingers. What was I to expect, relying on him?
"No, n-nothing--" I stammered as he placed his other hand on my collarbone, slowly drifting lower...
Without thinking, I jabbed my stiletto heel into his foot as hard as I could, which must not have been very hard, because Alighieri barely twitched.
"Fucking cunt," He said, somehow omitting all malevolence from his voice. Yet the comment still rang in my ears.
In a split-second, Jack grabbed the Grand Marshal by the hair and shoved him onto the desk.
"Bending me over using force, my King? You could have simply ask--" Ryusei was abruptly cut off when Jack smashed his head into the desk hard enough for it to visibly vibrate. I shrieked as the King did it again... and again...
He seemed to have completely succumbed to a fit of blind rage as he continued to pull Ryusei's head up by a fistful of black hair then bash it repeatedly into the wood. It wasn't long before there were blood and a lot of it. When Jack pulled Alighieri's head back, blood bubbled at his lips and nostrils and a cut at his forehead, and each time he was brought back down, it dripped into a shallow pool that formed on the table. And then with each sickening blow, the viscous liquid was sent splattering, splattering all over the papers and files on the desk and both of the Elves' clothes. After what must have been at least the twentieth time, Jack loosened his grip and leaned over the sputtering Grand Marshal, panting.
"Apologies," Ryusei grunted, barely loud enough for me to hear. "Apologies, apologies, apologies..."
"Feeling better now?" Jack whispered.
"Yes, my King. Apologies," The Elf gasped. I couldn't make out his face at all; he was covered in blood and his hair hung in front in sticky locks that left red trails on the wood.
I found myself taking a step back, and another, until I was closer and closer to the door. Prior I had addressed my experience in the palace feeling like a dream, but it was most certainly a nightmare.