Malve's eyes scanned the tent they've stolen from a servant like he's already imagining something pleasurable. Reeca clenched her fists behind him. This dirty excuse of a pixie.
A bedroll propped on a corner, two stools, and a low table void of belongings greeted them as Reeca let the tent's flap close as soon as she stepped inside. If she looked carefully, she could see Elred's form being reflected by the sun in the left side of the tent.
Reeca perched on one of the stools. "First question," she crossed her legs. "Where is the Heiress now?"
"What? You didn't know?" Malve knitted his eyebrows, blinked, then lightly slapped his forehead. "Oh, you just got back, I forgot," he smiled and waved his hand in the air. "She's here. She's usually in her study doing who knows what. We're never allowed there, as you well know. She rarely leaves, you know? She only does so when it's time to brief the army about something."
Reeca narrowed her eyes. Ah, yes. The army. The whole lot of them was stashed here, inside a rock in the middle of nowhere. Reeca and Elred, back when they're dressed as servants, had estimated a total of fifty thousand able forms in this camp, excluding the children who could possibly wield a weapon as well as any adult.
Reeca leaned back and propped her weight against her palms. "When's the next briefing going to be?"
Malve tapped his chin. "Not in another two days, I think," he shifted his weight from foot to foot. His boots clinked lightly against the compact soil. "She only has to tell us to march out now that the plan to take Dwanzeig is already in motion."
Reeca knitted her eyebrows. So Dwanzeig's their next move? Cardovia's bringing the whole army? Oh gods, this was bad. It might not be the information Reeca was seeking but it's news, nonetheless.
Malve shrugged when Reeca failed to reply. "It's not your problem to deal with," he crossed his arms and regarded Reeca up and down. "The Heiress was hoping for a quick surrender if she threatened to destroy their beloved nature-forest-things. It's not like those fanatics will be able to fight us especially if they didn't know we were coming."
Reeca forced herself to meet Malve in the eye, no matter how disgusted she was at him. "And you?" she cocked her head. "Are you going with them?"
"Marin will be taking the front in trying to convince the Royal family into giving us their throne just like she did with Cardina's," he shook his head while Reeca's insides churned hard enough to make it feel like it's boiling. Marin? Marin Draswist? What was that girl doing in Cardovia?
A chuckle made Reeca turn back to Malve who had a dreamy grin on his face. "That girl's got a lot of heat inside her, that much I'm sure," he clicked his tongue.
Disgusting.
Reeca hoped Malve would meet the Virtakios. Maybe Xanthy would incinerate him on the spot. That would be justice served well.
YOU ARE READING
COF 4: The Abject Throne
FantasyFOURTH BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES 𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭. 𝘈 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘈 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦. Xanthiene Vivenca, a fairy with a bounty for her soul, is caught between...