Alicja
"Just so that I understand," I began as I undressed, with Victor laying on the bed, watching with an embarrassing level of interest, "what was the difference between Alexis, the man out there yelling challenges at you, and the man last night?" Then I looked over my shoulder, "You can turn around. Go on." I said, whirling my finger in a circle.
He sighed and tossed his legs over the side of the bed, to sit facing the other way, "Why is it that I can't enjoy you now, after what we have done? Several times?" he returned.
"I asked first," I told him, not sure of the answer, but there was one. Using my arm to cover my breasts, I checked my back but didn't see any folded wings against me. I guessed it was all Mana. Huh. Mana had mass, it wasn't just energy.
"The man last night, Philip was his name, stood up from the table, challenged me after his insult and then reached for his weapon. There was no way I could think of to avoid his attack. Alexis was not threatening me with a weapon nor did he have the ability to reach me. Not through the guards. He wasn't a threat."
"So the man last night was unavoidable. It was him or you." I surmised. "What about the other men at the table?"
"I wasn't king," he said, as if that answered the question.
"And?" I asked, letting him know it didn't answer the question.
"And," he said, looking back to me over his shoulder, "it was a challenge. One to one. They had no reason to stop it, no legal responsibility anyway. They didn't help me or him or get in the way. That was really their only duty."
"But they witnessed."
"They aren't compelled to," he pointed out.
"No?" I asked, looking back at him over my shoulder and shooing him to turn back around.
"The law says they don't have to bear witness even to the council or the judges. But if they do, they are compelled to tell the truth. I'm guessing the five of them have decided to say nothing. Apparently they have talked with the guards they brought as well."
"Can they do that? Keep others from ... bearing witness?" I asked, slipping into a new shirt. This one was blue linen and felt silky. The thread count was so much.
"They aren't supposed to," he said, looking out my window from the bed. "But the way the law is written, there's no punishment if they do. It's not an enforceable law."
I nodded understanding, and turned around, "We have some of those. They are normally taken off the ledgers when they are brought up in court."
"That's an interesting idea," he mused, rubbing his chin.
I jumped up on the bed and climbed over to lay down next to him. "So, what of Ocean?" I said, to him and the fluttering thought that I could feel as it flitted up closer to my awareness. It had made the connection long before. It made it at the dinner table when Uncle Max suggested the arrangement with me â combined with him confessing Victor's father had the madness.
"I'm fairly sure Ocean is the one who killed my father, and I'm also feeling that he may have been brought here to kill my mother."
"Brought here? You mean your father brought him here, not for you, but for her?" I asked. "That's bleak, isn't it?"
He laid down next to me with a grace he shouldn't have. Not with his size. "I made a serious mistake back there," he told me, and kissed my lips.
"What was that? Not too serious, I don't think."
"No, it was serious," he said, nodding his head. "I seriously underestimated both Uncle Max and Ocean. I was no match for either of them. Even if I had gone down there to kill, without mercy or hesitation, I would not have come close. Max's strength inside the madness was ... truly terrifying."
I recalled the two of them slamming into each other. "I was concerned but honestly it looked like you were evenly matched."
He rolled over on his back, "I wasn't close to being his match. He was toying with me, and I was already at my limit. Another few clashes and I would have been done. My whole body is sore. I'm probably one single bruise from head to toe."
I put my hand on his shoulder and he winced. "Hey, I'm not joking," he complained. "I might have a few broken ribs as well."
I gently pulled back my hand.
"Ocean," he continued, "has, if we are correct, killed two powerful dragons while they were in the madness. He did it under contract, which means he did it under the laws of challenge." He met my eyes, "Single combat, one on one. No help or mercy."
I bit my lip and then said quietly, "I think Uncle Max knows much more about it as well, and I wouldn't be surprised if there were more... notches... on Ocean's belt."
He turned to me, "You mean, he's been contracted by others."
I nodded.
"What makes you say this?" he asked.
"Max, during that first diner of ours... he... he implied that if I were a Morrigan he wanted me to... to help him. But not help in a nice way. I was scared when he suggested that, and left the table. But that's why he was screaming at me, when you had to take him from the room and put him in the cell."
"The agreement," Victor mused. "That's what he meant. I was kind of hoping it was just the madness."
"Yeah, me too, but I don't think it was."
He kissed my forehead, his hand behind my head, "Must have been scary as hell for you. First night here."
I nodded again, and he kissed me again.
"Where do you suppose they came across Ocean?" I asked. "I mean, do you think he was known for this kind of thing?"
"I don't know. I was ten when he came around. Twelve when my mother died," he said.
"That means that for two years, they held him back, right?" I asked.
"Maybe. That puts things into a certain perspective, doesn't it. He wasn't here as their first option. He was here just in case," he said thoughtfully. "And when she was too far gone, possibly threatening the city itself, then he was set on her."
"Perhaps," I offered, cautiously, "he was here to protect you from her?"
"Huh," he grunted.
"Makes him sound like a hero, but that's not what I saw of him down on the floor with you and Max," I added with a firmer tone.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "You met him head on."
"Or the Morrigan did, anyway," I said, lowering my eyes. I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about this. I mean, I fought what he said he had no chance against. Boys never liked the girls who were better than they were, or smarter. He didn't seem to be challenged by my intelligence. Even liked it, it felt like. But being stronger than him?
"The change, yes, but it changed you, right? I mean, you're still you, you're not possessed, are you?" he asked.
I sighed. It would be so easy to say that yes, the Morrigan was a spirit inside me, and it did all of those things for me. But that wasn't the truth. But it would be so easy to lie. "No. I'm not possessed."
His head tilted, "Are you upset?"
"No, it's nothing. I'm a little tired maybe. A lot happened. I'm still processing that's all. Like you are, too."
"Sure," he said, with agreement. Then he looked at the ceiling again. "I'm not sure what you've heard about the Morrigan. It's a murky kind of legend with our people."
"Is it?"
"There is a sort of joking curse that goes, 'May you live under the protection of the Morrigan.' Meaning, may your life be in turmoil and strife and made to live through it all."
Well, she was the Phantom Queen, the stuff of nightmares and war and the goddess of strife, and terror. Also of sex. So far, sex had been pretty rough, and my climaxes violent â so it made sense I guess.
"Huh," I grunted.
"People are never sure if her coming is a blessing or a curse. If there is war, and she is there, they are sure they will win. But if there is peace, well... historically the Morrigan is not fond of peace."
"So if there is peace, she brings war?" I asked.
"That's been the way of it, so far," he said, and glanced at me.
"I don't like war," I said. "I don't want strife or any of that." Then I thought, "Well, giving someone I didn't like a nightmare or two wouldn't be bad."
"Power can be a burden," he said, suddenly very concerned and open to me. "If you need to talk and you can't talk to me, find someone you can talk to. You may not be possessed, but you are in possession of great power and strength. You tossed Ocean around like a rag doll. I think you might have actually hurt him. That's no minor thing. I want you to promise you'll come to me if you are ... anything... whatever, whenever."
OK, that was unexpected.
A thought narrowed my eyebrows, "What, exactly, is my official title, now that you are king?"
He looked back to the ceiling, and barked a laugh. "Um, I think we have some choices, actually."
I sat up, "Like what?"
"Well, there is concubine."
I pursed my lips, and shook my head, "What else?"
"There is courtesan, that's popular," he offered.
That didn't sound too bad, but I wasn't really sure what the difference was in a practical way.
He squinted his eye, then added, "But I believe you actually have to be married for that one, or something. I need to look that one up. But there is also mistress."
Mistress? That sounded mysterious and with less expectation put on her. A mistress could walk down the street, because she's unofficial. She could still go to the debates or down to the docks, without causing commotion or requiring guards on her all the time â like the king did. A Mistress had her own room and slept with the king, when she wanted to.
I felt sad suddenly. I really liked our prince life together here. It was active and fun and full of meeting people and exploring things. I could teach the cook how to make a hamburger, and prepare French fries. I could laugh at the debates, and be the only one laughing, without causing a government crisis.
That was all over now. He was king. "I like Mistress. Make that my title, please." I requested to see if I could salvage some of that life, by hiding behind a moniker.
He's taken aback by my solemness. I flash him a wan smile, which doesn't help but he gazes back to the ceiling. "Mistress it is. Kind of sexy, really. Especially with the black lace outfits."
I slap him out of habit for teasing me, and he yelps in great pain.
"I'm so sorry!"