The Tyrant's Queen

19: the first night

Lucien's appearance of being but a harmless drunkard- in the eyes of the officials- was a painstakingly crafted facade.

Even the unsteadiness of his steps and the smell of cigar in his clothes, were, Thalia now fully realized, ploys to make officials lower their guards.

She'd fooled herself that she was perceptive enough, sufficiently on guard against Lucien.

"They're the initial symptoms of a drug addiction."

A year ago, a married couple in their fifties were Thalia's next-door neighbors in town.

Their fastidiously furnished house was unfortunately vacated when the woman was arrested for murdering her husband.

She'd axed him in his sleep, when he refused to increase their debt to finance her drug habits.

On her way to work, Thalia had seen the dead husband being dragged out of the house by kind volunteers in town. The axe was still firmly planted in his skull.

"Oh." That was the first utterance from her lips.

Just as she concluded she and Lucien had reached a rather happy, mutually-beneficial arrangement of sleep- he'd axed her just like that, with those words.

It wouldn't do her any good to lash out at him. He was the king.

Those were her thoughts, as she found herself picking up the glass vial and hurling it at him.

It wouldn't do her any good to lash out at him. She was now an addict, and he had the supplies. - were her thoughts.

"Go to hell" were her words, shouted at the top of her lungs.

With a slight tilt of his head, Lucien avoided the glass vial. It shattered into pieces somewhere behind him.

As if she hadn't just thrown him the glass, Lucien took up his cane, and with its tip, snuffed out the big candles.

"Yes. I risk nothing telling you anything," he shrugged, grinning wryly. "Your next supply is coming if you make some progress with Karlieus. You have about a week before the arrival of the monarchs."

Thalia was still in the midst of looking for something else to throw, when she stopped. "Then tell me certainly. Qilla and the officials who died at coronation ceremony. You killed them?"

"Yes." Despite having known the answer, Thalia still recoiled, at Lucien's face. It was chillingly unmoved.

"Official Beha and his manservant...those weren't you right?"

"To be exact, it was Dehan who hung them in their cells."

Thalia couldn't help but imagine the process of hanging.

The mammoth, perpetually amused-looking Dehan hanging two men as easily as she would hang straw dolls on her door. She shivered.

"Why did you kill Qilla and the officials?"

Leaning one arm on his cane, Lucien leveled her with a long, scrutinizing look. He was quiet.

"What?" Thalia bristled, then wondered if she'd been too impertinent.

"I'm impressed. Just after finding out you're now a drug addict- you're using that information to your advantage, extracting information from me. Using your utter dependence on me as leverage. You're better than some fledgling officials in court."

"Honored, sire," she said cuttingly. "So why did you kill them?"

"To win in war, you need to kill the king and queen." The ghost of a smile touched his mouth, as his fingers drummed against the head of his cane. "But it does help to kill off as many soldiers off first. Makes things easier. Also sends a message."