of Sword and Flame

Chapter 45: Pick Your Tea II

King Malum stared out at the room of nobles before him. They were the picture of elegance, covered from head to toe in decorative badges, jewels, and treasures. King Malum wrinkled his nose at them all. Rats, vermin, all of them. They didn't understand true power. They hid behind masks of manipulation, but they couldn't understand what it truly took. No one did, except him. He plunged into his memories.

Visions of dark halls and whispers of rats in the monarchy filled his ears until they bled. His mother and father were standing just behind the door, voices low. But he could hear them.

"There's a mole among our ranks," his mother's dark, thick voice rang out. Prince Malum stared at her portrait hanging just beside the door. It captured her elegance and beauty perfectly. She was poised cautiously on the seat, seven thick strings of pearls wrapped around her neck, and her picturesque curvy figure fit purposefully into the painting. The painters were ordered to capture her beauty in its entirety. They were pleased to have to do so. His mother was the definition of the perfect Vorinian woman, curly blonde coils running down her back, beads entwined into the thick braids littered throughout them.

He had seen his mother's supposed secrets of her beauty before. He had seen the disgusting cups filled with red liquid.

It wasn't wine.

He had tried it once, only once. It was bitter and tasted like the poison he'd grown to endure, if only for the necessity, as his tutor put it. They had to prepare him for anything, even assassination attempts. His mother and father had grown accustomed to it as well, slipping easily into the habit of drinking it without hesitation.

"Order them to bring their families to the next council discussion," his father's smooth voice responded. In the portrait Prince Malum studied, his father's stubborn eyes were so accurate Prince Malum used to think they were truly his.

The painters wouldn't do such a thing, of course. They were too afraid of his father.

"We will make them bow before us. Then, we will have the guards execute each family member. Spouses first, children second. Until someone decides to come forth and admit guilt for being the spy, we will eliminate all the useless vermin."

Vermin.

King Malum glared at the nobles before him. They preened themselves, shaking small imperfections off their coats and capes and shifting necklaces back into their correct placement. They fixated on themselves like peacocks, ruffling their feathers into the most exemplary displays.

Vermin.

"You are all in danger," the king declared. His hand shook against the podium. He rested his head against it, letting a small shake ripple across his shoulders. The room went silent. Everyone froze.

He lifted his head. They all glanced at each other nervously at his reaction. They all shared the same question: was the king scared?

"I come bearing unfortunate news," he continued, lifting his head and leaning against the podium with all his weight. He dared not look any of them in the eyes. "One of my Reapers has begun to turn against us."

King Malum watched as everyone's breath caught in their throats.

"I've tried to stop her, but she has come for me, too." He whispered it fearfully, pulling at the collar of his shirt. Along his neck, wide and glaring, was a harsh slice.

Everyone gasped.

"I call upon you all today for your help," the king's voice shook. "She is a madwoman, I tell you! She's going to pick us off, one by one, if we don't stop her!"