The Legend of the Eight: The Charmed (Book 4)

Epilogue: The Truce

EPILOGUE: THE TRUCE 

"YOU ARE NOT AN EASY woman to get ahold of."

Standing before Her Majesty the Queen was a man in his thirties, wearing a gray turtleneck and dark pants. His dark hair was swept back with an ample amount of hair gel and he had a strange purse in his lips that made him look like he was permanently trying to whistle.

The Queen sat in a large chair adorned in gold and dripping with precious jewels. On either side of her were four thrones like it—one of which was much larger and more extravagant. Many Kings had sat in that chair over the years but it was most recently occupied by her husband. It had been empty for three months—exactly the amount of time that had passed since the explosion at the Veil.

"Yes, well, as it seems, I prefer my appointments be those that do not waste my time," the Queen snapped back, poised as ever. She took a sip of chamomile tea—it was supposed to be relaxing but lately, there was nothing short of hallucinogenic mushrooms that would relax her.

"I am here on behalf of the Doctor," said the man in the gray turtleneck, unbothered by the Queen or her patience. "As I understand it, you've spoken with him but have yet to meet. He's sent me to make those arrangements."

The Queen's lack of meeting the Doctor was not for a lack of trying. Over the last few months, his attempts to terrorize the Realm had caught her attention and she wished to speak with him before things got out of control. Twelve students from the Academy—all of alternative magic origins—had shown up along the edge of the East Woods with an arrow shot through the chest. Dozens more had gone missing throughout the Realm and there was no telling what the Doctor might be doing to them.

"Should your doctor wish to speak with me, he knows exactly where to find me," the Queen said after a minute.

"I'll be sure to pass the message along," the man smirked, ignorantly disrespecting the Queen. "Until then, I've come to speak to you about a registry. Word has it that you a possess a list of every individual in the World of Magic and their magical source."

Clarion nodded slowly, tapping a perfect manicure against the arms of her throne. "I do happen to have such a list and I'd be willing to share it."

"You would just hand that over? Willingly?" He doubted her—for good reason. What Queen would hand over her own people like that?

The Queen folded her hands into her lap and then pursed her lips. "For a price, of course. There is a small number of individuals who I would like off the list. Once I've redacted their names, I'd be willing to consider passing the list over."

"Is that so?"

The Queen didn't say anything right away. Instead, she shifted her gray eyes and waited for him to agree—to accept her offer. She was a confident woman and wore her royalty well. She knew he'd make the right choice. He didn't seem like a foolish man.

"So," she said once it seemed he had enough time to think it over. "What do you say? Do we have a deal?"