“You will not address me in such a way. Ever. Again.”
He makes what could be considered a nod of consent, then loses consciousness. I let him fall to the floor. The sound of his body hitting the ground is satisfying indeed. All these old guards underestimate and disrespect me. Those who have held their positions inside the royal household consider themselves royal by association. The ones like Tusk think they are ultra royal. The insensate ass on the floor believes he has earned a place in my household. He has done nothing of the sort.
There are shocked stares as the other nobles and courtiers see what I have done. Thirteen of them are assembled, each due to make a report to me on the matter. I am certain that at least twelve of them have absolutely nothing to say of any value whatsoever, and the other is Tusk.
“Sire.” Wreck speaks respectfully.
Wreck is not one of the old guard. He graduated alongside me. He helped hunt Rath K’zar. I trust him as I trust very few in this world. He is a pale gold, owing to distant harem blood. I believe his grandmother was one of the females in my grandfather’s harem. He could be considered a distant pretender to the throne, a long-lost cousin.
“Yes?”
“Surveillance has indicated the identity of the assassin. Or, not so much the identity. But general indicators as to the potential identity of the assassin. Or at least, clues as to indicators as to the possible identity of the entity who performed the assassin. Or….”
“Wreck. Please.”
The problem with making an example of the arrogant is that you often end up terrifying the humble.
He coughs and pushes a blue wave of hair out of his eyes. “Most of the data collected from those nearby, cameras, spectronomy, etcetera, indicates that the assassin was not a korabi, but a human female in a korabi suit.”
“How is that possible? Humans are so much smaller than korabi…”
“The scythkin have a technology which allows them to manufacture suits which, when worn, allow them to assume the form of almost any other species. My hypothesis is that a human accessed one of these suits and used it to assassinate…”
“HOW DARE YOU!”
Tusk wakes up and begins to rage, having not learned his lesson at all. The arrogance of the old korabi courtier is something to behold. I stand, arms folded over my chest as he tears into me as if I were someone other than the king.
“We have humans infiltrating the royal mate selection ceremonies. We have humans murdering kings. We have humans seducing and corrupting korabi royal soldiers. We have an absolute epidemic of humans creeping their way into the very heart of our realm. And what do we do? The king takes an injured human female into his bed and refuses to entertain the most well-bred korabi mates the system has to offer!”
I would very much like to know how Tusk knows what has happened between the human and me.
It is clear to me that there is something going on with him, some back channel or servant gossip which allows him to know that which he should not.
“It annoys you that I have consorted with the human, does it not, Tusk?”
Does he hear the danger in the question? Does he realize how close he is to being absolutely annihilated? I hope not. I want to see his expression when he realizes that he’s lost control of the one thing he cares about: the throne.
“Yes, sire. It annoys me.” He huffs the response.
“Good,” I smile broadly. “I hope it continues to rankle long after you adjust to your new post on the third planet from the sun.”
“No!” He goes pale with fear. “Not that planet. Anything but that planet.”
“I think a stint on Earth would serve you well, Tusk. You might even come to form an interest in a human of your own.”
“I would never be interested in such a useless, fleshy beast. But I will go as you order, sire, for I still believe in the might of the korabi empire and the authority of the throne. Even if you may not.”
There is an awed hush in the room. Tusk has been a fixture of this court for as long as anybody can remember. No king has ever had the balls to send him packing. He is lucky I did not thrash him before sending him off to his destiny on that distant human planet.
“If anybody else feels the need to share their derision for my choices in the midst of the greatest failure of royal security since my father was killed by a handful of scum rebels, now is the time to express those sentiments, while there are still berths on Tusk’s freighter.”
This is not how you garner honest feedback from those who serve you. I no longer care. I have not had the loyalty or honesty of these korabi. They may have even played a role in the death of my father. As much as the humans might be eager to take credit, our systems should not be so poor a one-eyed scum girl can circumvent them.