Varyn
Varyn watched the Elven noblewomen walk through the opulent gardens of the castle. They moved aimlessly and carried wooden parasols, wearing gossamer dresses, pants, and tops to combat the humid heat of Meros. The capital city of Luraek was in the south of the nation and its tropical environment led to hotter seasons and lush vegetation.
The noblewomen's conversations never ceased, and at first glance, the interactions seemed friendly. But Varyn had been at court long enough to see past the veneer—each breath they took was calculated to further their agendas.
The women disappeared around a corner in a whorl of expensive fabrics and Varyn turned her attention back to the room, absently tapping her finger at the same tempo as the heartbeat of the Lord next to her. She scanned the council members seated around the large rectangular table. The King was yet to arrive, but tensions were already high, with arguments and scheming aplenty. Varyn was averse to court politics, and morbidly she was grateful for her their fear and thinly veiled disgust that made them reluctant to do more than glance in her direction.
The room was Elven dominated- as was to be expected given their King's heritage- but there were still people of different clans present. Nymphs, mages, merfolk, and more also held positions in the King's council. Any clan swift to swear loyalty to King Theron when he first took power was favored heavily. The clans that were reluctant to bend the knee to the newly unified nation- to give up their autonomy and sovereignty- faced fates far less desirable.
Varyn wondered how the council members never got bored of their bickering. Week after week they found something new- or dredged up decade-old grudges- to debate. Some of the most powerful people in the kingdom, and many of them had even been alive when Luraek was created, sat in the room. Varyn realized with detached amusement how similar their scheming was to the noblewomen outside—only they were far less refined.
The commotion ceased as the doors to the chamber opened, and the only sound was chairs scraping against the sandstone floor as the council members rose in unison. Even after all this time, Varyn still felt King Theron's presence like a physical weight as he walked into the room with quick confident strides. He stood in front of his seat at the helm of the table and surveyed the room. The King's piercing emerald gaze landed where she stood directly opposite of him, and as always it took all her willpower to lower her eyes in subservience until he moved his attention elsewhere. He didn't speak, and Varyn saw some of the Lords and Ladies squirm under his assessment. She knew just how much King Theron enjoyed their reaction-their fear.
"Sit," he said finally. "We have much to discuss."
When they were all settled, Lord Walric was the first to speak. He was the Minister of Provisions, in charge of overseeing goods production and distribution across the nation. But Varyn knew that he and every other person in the room only concerned themselves with what affected them and their ilk.
"Your Majesty, the farmers in the south have harvested enough to last through the season," he said. "There is, however, a minor drought in the northeast, and the people are requesting aid. We've sent supply to most of the region, but the Rexlen especially grows restless, and say they are owed more. The clansmen have started numerous altercations in various towns with our soldiers stationed in their province, and the disputes escalated to the point that our men were required to use lethal force."
Somehow, Varyn doubted they'd resorted to killing only as a last-case scenario.
"We sent them wheat, rice, and seeds months ago- this is simply greed. Besides, with the current state of our provisions and the cost of transportation, it would not be in our best interest to assist them. Our extra stores are here for only the direst circumstances, and they have enough to ration until the rains begin," King Theron said, dismissing the issue.
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Shadows So Bright
FantasyPREVIOUSLY TITLED 'BLOOD THRONE' { Wattys 2018 'The Originals' winner } Shadows trail Rhaessa wherever she goes. Whether that's her magic or past, she can't seem to escape them. Wrestled into a corner with only one way out, she embarks on a journey...