Kitchen

  servants steadily funneled in and out of the door that connected the

  dinning hall to the kitchen. Their faces were tinted red and sweat

  coated their brows, their frenzied pace increasing as the dinner hour

  drew nearer. I had set them into motion to provide an adequate meal

  for the return of Mistra, though much to their frustration, she had

  only given me a mere couple of hours of notice, not nearly enough

  time to have cakes frosted and elaborate gelatin set. Regardless of

  the lack of notice, they seemed to be taking the task seriously and

  were setting out a feast starting with a large assortment of fresh

  bread, cheese, and cured meats. Enticing, deep, golden smells wafted

  out of the kitchen every time the door opened to let another frenzied

  servant through.

  I

  had decided to come and stand at the grand dining entrance to oversee

  the work being done to inspire an extra layer of importance to their

  task. I wanted my consort to feel welcomed upon her arrival, greeted

  by an event worthy of her return. It was imperative from a common

  sense standpoint as well as royal hierarchy expectations. Any sane

  monarch knows to keep anyone that shares their bed happy, it would

  would be far too easy to slip a dagger between the ribs in the middle

  of the night. I did not necessarily think Mistra would do such a

  thing, but it didn't hurt to hedge my bets on the off chance I was

  mistaken. Power often makes people fatally covet what they do not

  have, sometimes regardless of what methods would be necessary to

  achieve the power.

  Slender

  fingers ran down my spine, causing the hairs on my neck to stand up,

  partially out of surprised. I managed to keep my regal poise, but my

  heart thumped loudly in my ears. There was only one person I knew

  that could move so stealthily that I could not detect them, it was

  another reason why I strived to keep my consort content.

  "You

  are back already," I said, keeping my voice steady, "I

  thought you were not due until closer to sundown."

  I

  turned to her and my breath caught in my throat. During her time away

  she had somehow managed to grow more beautiful, more ethereal. Her

  eyes had always been enchanting pools, but they appeared to have

  deepened, yet sharpened, their black color almost too intense to be

  real without being a void. Her eyes weren't the only thing different,

  her bronze skin seemed to be glowing from some internal light, her

  ashen locks all the more stark against her skin. Somehow in our time

  apart she had become even more lovely and a subdued joy bubbled in

  the back of my mind, relishing in the fact that I could claim her as

  mine.

  "It

  was you that set the precedent to always be earlier or later than

  scheduled," she purred, "never let your enemies have a

  chance to predict your movements with certainty."

  "I

  would sincerely hope I am not in a position to call you my enemy,"

  I jested and placed a hand on her arm. I couldn't help myself, I was

  so stricken by her that I had to reach out and touch to verify that

  she was real.

  "Not

  at this moment, no," she said with a smile and covered my hand

  with her own. "Before dinner, I would like to discuss something

  in private."

  The

  skin along my spine erupted into goosebumps at her touch, I distantly

  wondered if that was what she had intended, setting me up to discuss

  whatever it is she wanted with my senses entranced by her.

  "We

  might as well discuss now," I replied and offered her my arm.

  Mistra

  accepted my gesture and snaked her arm around mine, walking close to

  me back to our room. I didn't know if it was perhaps that it had been

  the first appreciable time away from her, but it felt comforting to

  have her at my side and I wondered how I had made do while she was

  away.

  "Anything

  astonishing happen while I was away?" She turned her head to me

  and gave me a gentle smile.

  "Mari

  started bringing back recruits," I answered. "Some of them

  are promising, one in particular I'm sure you'll learn about soon

  enough."

  Her

  right eyebrow raised in intrigue, but she left the topic for now, her

  mind seemingly on other maters. At the bedroom door, I pulled it open

  for her, guiding her inside before closing it behind me. I paused

  with my hand on the handle and summoned power to seep through the

  soles of my feet all to way to my hands. I was not exceptionally

  skilled at enchantments, but through enough brute force of will, I

  forced magical energy into the handle of the door to remain rigid

  despite any attempts to open. Someone with magic could easily gain

  access, but the mechanism being broken would alert me immediately.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "I

  see you've been practicing," Mistra remarked with a smile.

  "I

  have," I admitted, "particularly things that can be useful

  that are outside my normal purview."

  "I

  too have been stretching myself beyond what is typical for myself,"

  she said, moving to sit on the edge of her side of the bed.

  "Oh?"

  I questioned. "What exactly have you been up to while you're

  away?"

  Mistra's

  lips curled up into a half-smile and her demeanor straightened into

  something more formal than I was used to seeing her when it was just

  the two of us.

  "I

  hope you will agree with me that my potential is perhaps beyond just

  the realm of being a consort."

  I

  couldn't help the twitch at the corner of my lips at her words. I

  knew the increased interest in training had a reason behind it,

  Mistra was not the type of woman to make choice on whims. I doubted

  she would warn me of an upcoming coup attempt on her behalf for my

  throne, but she was a mysterious and cunning woman. It would not have

  surprised me if she had devised a way to declare her intent to

  overthrow me to my face and have the actual attempt take me by

  surprise.

  "It

  is no secret that my family, especially my father, are not ideal

  monarchs to occupy the throne for House Drak," she said, a soft,

  almost innocent smile on her lips. She paused and gave me a serious

  look, one meant to cement her statement was very much not a joke.

  I

  sat down opposite from her on the small sofa we used to recline and

  discuss the events of the day. I weighed the potential ramifications

  of voicing a negative opinion about an ally. A reasonable monarch

  would have instantly declined to comment or disagree to preserve the

  alliance, especially one so powerful enough to be the source of my

  magical strength, but I hesitated on taking either route that laid

  before me. Mistra was looking for agreement as a conspirator,

  exposing a part of her that could lead to her banishment or,

  unthinkably, her death. If I were to disagree or refuse to discuss

  the matter with her, at best I would be closed off from her

  aspirations and at worst, be cut from her life to ensure safety.

  "Your

  father is often hot headed," I admitted, "he tends to make

  decisions based on anger. That can be a dangerous premise for a

  kingdom."

  It

  was an answer that at least met her halfway and could be passed off

  as merely a concern and not a condemnation of his rule. Mistra's lips

  pursed together into a look of annoyance and she folded her arms

  across her chest.

  "That

  as a safe, conservative answer, not a response from the queen I know

  and admire," she tutted.

  "My

  dear," I explained, "I sometimes will need to think and act

  like a typical monarch. I have an alliance to worry about, after all,

  it is where I draw power from."

  "You,

  acting like a traditional monarch?" she said with a light laugh.

  "Are you now going to treat me as just some consort as well?"

  "Well

  you are my consort."

  The

  moment the words escaped my lips, my face flushed red with regret, it

  was not at all what I had intended to say. Mistra's eyes opened wider

  and her lips parted slightly as if she had a reply ready, but decided

  against it.

  "That's

  not what I mean," I quickly said. "I meant to convey the

  necessity for me to remain more neutral in this situation. It is not

  like you stand as direct heir of your kingdom. You are my consort and

  wield not insignificant power in this kingdom beyond the normal

  confines of a consort."

  "I

  see I was mistaken in my assessment of you," she said sharply,

  rising to her feet.

  "Mistra

  -"

  "No,"

  she interjected with a quick gesture of her hand. "I was wrong

  about my position and our relationship to each other. You meant what

  you said."

  "I

  did not," I pressed, "it just came out wrong."

  Her

  eyes scanned me, as if looking for some indication of whether to

  believe me or not.

  "You

  understand the position I am in now, don't you?" She asked, but

  she gave me no time to respond. "You now know I am of the

  opinion that my father is not the right monarch on the throne and how

  that has potentially deadly consequences."

  "Your

  father wouldn't have you killed," I insisted. “He dotes on you

  and treats you delicately compared to anyone else.”

  "Perhaps

  not, but he might banish me to never return and I certainly would not

  be so lucky to be sent here." She still looked upset and her

  eyes bore into me, but she sat back down and let out a long sigh. "I

  suppose you wouldn't want that either, you likely wouldn't be the one

  to tell him."

  My

  face transformed into mask of disbelief at her gut assumption.

  "My

  hesitation to be anything but neutral is out of sense of protection

  for you, Mistra," I explained. "I would certainly not tell

  him, but if my words were to get back to him, I would not want the

  alliance or your position to be questioned. A breaking of the

  alliance would likely mean your presence here would be problematic

  for your kingdom."

  "That

  is a very real threat,” she admitted in a bitter tone. “My father

  is prone to fits of rage where he hastily decides and often regrets,

  is one of the reasons I feel that I would be a much better fit for

  the throne."

  "You?"

  I asked in surprise. "You have ambition to overthrow your father

  and your brothers in line for heir?"

  "I

  do," she said, voice dropping low, "this is perhaps not the

  best time to go farther than that in our conversation. We should find

  a truly secure place before I say any more. I just wanted to know if

  you would be with me."

  I

  hesitated a moment to speak, but it was out of fear I might say

  something rash again and I wanted there to be no mistaking my words.

  "I

  am with you, I think House Drak needs a woman at the helm."

  Her

  berry lips curled up into a smile and she leaned forward, resting a

  hand over mine.

  "I

  am glad we agree, though it has some interesting challenges regarding

  our current arrangements."

  "All

  in due time," I assured, "but first, your ascension."

  I stood and offered my hand, which she accepted and stood as well. I

  pulled her towards me, pressing my lips to hers, then broke into a

  wide grin. "The world might not yet be ready for two queens

  conspiring, but we will make it ready."