The Tyrant's Queen

Darkest Impulses [Leonid]

I stared down at the bloodstain before the throne. There had been some haphazard attempts to clean it, but washing away so much blood was always hard. I lift my eyes to the thrones themselves and frown. They were gaudy. Both were oversized and made of sumptuous wood and fabrics. The wood had intricate carvings etched around the high backs of the chairs; the queen's more delicate but no less ostentatious.

"Distracted again, are we?"

The sound of Alamras's voice brought my thoughts to a halt. I turned to face him, watching an ever-familiar smile spread across his face. "You're like a cat," I frowned, "always so quiet and slinking through the halls like you're on the hunt for something."

That smile spreads wide as Alamras strides forward. "I was expecting you in the library, but here you are. Pray tell, why are you here? Reliving the moment?" he asks, running his foot along the edge of the stain. He tilts his head as he eyes it, white hair tumbling over his shoulders. "I wish I could have been here to witness the moment you relieved the man from his head, particularly the look in the Queen's eyes."

I frowned at the statement, "You would have been disappointed, my friend. The man put up little fight; he was more talk than action. I was surprised that the guards who remained with him did nothing to stop me."

"And your precious Queen?"

"Nothing," I reply. "At the moment she seemed ready to accept a fate similar to her dead husband's. It was only when I told her I was keeping her alive that I saw any reaction."

Alamras laughed softly, "Worried of what you might do to her?" I watch as he walks through the stain and approaches the king's throne. He settles into the seat, giving a contented smile as he relaxes into the fabric. "I can only imagine what was going through her head. Would you torture her? Throw her into the dungeon to be lost to time? Perhaps she feared you would be like any other conquering man and just use her for your pleasures."

I could feel the fire in my eyes as Alamras rambled. He grinned at me, propping his chin up on a fisted hand.

"Was that it? You threatened to have your way with her?"

"I laid claim to her, nothing more."

"Nothing more?" Alamras barked a laugh. "To a woman, especially one of her station, such a thing as 'laying claim' holds many connotations."

"It was my right the moment I seized this forsaken kingdom," I roared, seething through clenched teeth.

"I doubt she sees it that way."

The comment made me pause and stuttered my irritation. My reaction only seemed to amuse Alamras more, as if confirming something. It didn't matter how Síofra felt or what she thought.

"Was there a reason why you sought me out?" I ask with a frown.

"Is there a reason why you are here?" Alamras retorts, rapping his knuckles against the throne.

I don't respond. In truth, I couldn't respond. There had been no specific reason for bringing myself to the throne room. There was no reason why I stared at that bloodstain and relived that moment, recalling the look in Síofra's eyes as she saw me as her husband's killer.

Setting my mouth into a line, I sigh. "Has there been any progress?"

"None," Alamras sighed. "I will begin to search for these secret passages and doors that the blueprints have revealed."

"How long will you need?"

Alamras shrugged, "There is no way for me to know, not yet. The blueprints are vague at best."

I nodded. "I will continue to pour over the scrolls you found." I looked Alamras over, "I want you to start searching as soon as possible. Any findings are to be reported to me with haste."

Alamras stood slowly, looking down at me as he descended the raised dais. The moment he stood before me, he bowed. "As you wish, My King." The tone in his voice was teasing, and he kept my gaze as he straightened himself once more. With a careless smile, he finally turned away and strode out of the throne room.

My stare remained on the thrones. I could feel the anger and irritation bubbling just below my skin. With a growl, I moved up the dais, drawing my dagger as I moved. I plunged the blade into the plush fabric, slicing it open like the belly of a fish.

"My King?"

I wheel around with a snarl, my grip on the dagger tightening. A slender man stood before me, dressed in simple but well-maintained clothes. He did not seem to flinch when I turned to him.

"What?" I seethed, trying to regain my composure.

"I was informed that you wanted to see the head of staff," the man replied, raising his chin slightly as he seemed to stand at attention. "Unfortunately for the both of us, it seems like he has fled, and I am the only one able to fulfill that role."

"And who might you be?" I ask, pointing my dagger at him.

"Addison, My King."

With a frown, I approach Addison, sheathing the dagger. "I want these damned thrones reupholstered."

"My King?"

I lean in close to Addison, my face inches from his, "I want these forsaken items reupholstered. Black for the king's."

"And for the Queen?" Addison replied. His voice barely trembled, but he kept his face as neutral as stone.

"Figure out if that woman has a favorite color." I snort. "If you can do this for me with little difficulty, you can consider yourself my new head of staff."

"Of course, My King," Addison nodded. "Was there anything else you would like from me?"

I pause, looking Addison over before continuing. "I want you to tell me everything you know about the remaining staff," I reply.