“Justice demands evidence,” I reply. The puppeteer is already feeling me pluck at the strings, and he is most unhappy about it. Tusk narrows his eyes at me in that I put you where you are sort of way he has. If only he’d thought about it for two seconds longer and realized that he really had no choice.
“She comes from Earth. She is not an elite, nor is she scum.” That’s Tusk’s attempt at an argument. It is not a good one.
“That doesn’t make her an assassin,” Lyric joins the conversation. “It’s not Elite, Scum, Assassin. Why does that sound like a game? Elite beats scum, assassin kills elite, and scum infects assassin.”
Her point is valid, even if her making of it is very roundabout.
“Tell us who you are,” I invite the woman. She seems absolutely terrified, so much so I am worried she will not be able to speak.
“My name is Margaret,” she says, cowering away from Tusk’s aggressive oddness, and our combined gaze. “I’m a housewife. Nothing more. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t…” she chokes up again, tearful and miserable.
I look at Tusk. “Really, Tusk. You abducted a human? The scythkin will be furious. They believe they own humans, more or less. The last thing we need is an invasion here in Megaris.”
“You believe a human over me?” Tusk has the nerve to appear offended. I respect his commitment to his obvious lie.
"She is wearing an apron which appears to have some kind of stew on it. I believe she was cooking dinner when you took her.”
“All due respect, that could be stew from any time,” Tusk argues.
I do not know what Tusk is trying to cover for, but if I had to take a guess, I'd say the attack during the choosing ceremony was part of his plan. I am well aware that Tusk is a traitor. I am equally well aware that he will try to replace me if he finds me to be an unsuitable puppet. What he is not aware of is that I am accustomed to killing, and his death will not be a chore for me. He has used korabi kings for longer than I can imagine. He thinks he put me here, and that I owe him a debt of gratitude. I owe him nothing. In the short term, in the name of damage control, I am going to get that human away from Tusk.
“Take Margaret to the dungeon,” I say. “Tyvian, she is yours.”
Tusk lifts her and in doing so, lifts the dress and shifts her covering.
Lyric gasps when she sees what is under it.
There is bruising all down her legs. And not from Tusk. It is older than that. It has started to heal. It is clear that she has been hurt many times before.
“Who did that to you?” Lyric is down next to the woman in an instant, her natural concern evident for absolutely any human in her circle of influence.
“Nobody,” Margaret lies miserably.
“Did Tusk do this to you?” Lyric wastes no time in hurling the accusation.
“No,” Tusk interjects. “I did abduct her from her kitchen. What she didn’t mention was the fact that she was in the process of being beaten by her husband.”
"So you decided to bring her here and call her an assassin.”
Tusk glowers at me. “What other reason would I have to bring a human back?”
“You felt sorry for her?”
“I did track the assassin to her home," Tusk says. “I believe it was a human in a scythkin suit. I believe the scythkin are plotting against the royal korabi house.”
“Well, they’re going to have a hard time with the genetic king on the loose in Megaris where nobody can find him, aren't they.”
“Unless he returns to the palace, yes.”
"And he's not doing that any time soon, is he?”
“One can only hope not.”
* * *
This is not how the korabi court used to be. Once it was a place of high honor and protocol. Citizens, courtiers, nobles, and soldiers all revered it. Now it is a chaotic mess.
The death of Krash set off a series of events which is still unfolding. I feel as though I am left watching it ripple outward forever. I am not imagining that I am in control. I am not the king, not really. I fought Krush not for the crown, but for my own life and somehow ended up here.
Margaret has begun to cry softly. It is hard to say why, but I imagine being dragged across the universe while being blamed as an assassin is a large part of it
“Oh Mark, Markkk…”
"What's that name? Is that the name of the scythkin who contracted her to kill on his behalf?”
“Of course not. It is the name of her useless waste of space husband who I murdered.”