Alexios

  Year 25 - Athkatla

  According to Marquis, I fucked up that night in Port Nyanzaru.

  He used different words, of course. One week, he’s disposing of the body of a man I couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. The next, we’re moving into one of his other homes, located in Athkatla this time. Marquis packed quickly while Phaedra agreed it was time to go.

  For the entire journey here, we never spoke of why we left. We didn’t talk about the missing posters that went up just a few days after I killed the man either and we certainly never spoke about the few nights I spent sleeping in Marquis’s bed.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to.

  I did.

  It was that he never told me to leave. I would lay awake beside him, sometimes feeling his own hand rest close enough that our fingers could have easily laced together if we wanted them to. Once or twice, our faces would even turn towards each other at the same time, eyes falling on each other’s lips…

  But we never closed the distance.

  Athkatla is brighter and far louder than Port Nyanzaru. The house is bigger too, to my surprise. Phaedra moves through the house as if she’s been here before. She probably has. It seems like she’s always kissing Marquis, but when she does look at me, there’s an amused look on her face.

  I wonder what she thinks of the nights I spent in Marquis’s bed. She’s always known more than she says anyway. Our lives go back to “normal” … or something close to it. The queen seems satisfied with what I’m doing too, but she still stays distant.

  As soon as the sun goes down, there’s a knock on my bedroom door. Without even second guessing it, I know it’s Marquis. After all, it’s rare for Phaedra to visit me. Unlike Marquis, she knows when I need space.

  Before I can answer, he steps in, looking around the room until finally settling on the night sky falling through the window.

  “You do not sit outside with the urn anymore,” he notices. “Why?”

  I shrug lazily and turn towards Nykky’s urn. It’s kept further from the window now, but not because I want it hidden. I just want it out of habit’s reach.

  “Athkatla feels… different, I guess. The weather’s too finnicky.”

  “That did not matter to you before.”

  Gods, the last thing I want right now is to listen to what will very likely turn out to be one of Marquis’s lectures.

  “Please,” I whisper. “Not tonight, alright?”

  My eyes stay focused on the floor as my arms come to fold loosely around my body.

  “I’m sorry for making us move,” I add after a few too many quiet moments. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

  “You did not force us to leave,” Marquis tells me.

  “If it wasn’t for me, we’d still be living in Port Nyanzaru. I’d still be sulking somewhere while you and Phaedra argue, only to end up in bed with one another right after.”

  Marquis steps closer, lifting his hand to rest on my shoulder. His thumb gently brushes my collarbone and I watch as his head tilts to the side. Our eyes glance at each other’s lips, just as they did when I slept in his bed…

  But I step back.

  “I’d rather not piss Phaedra off,” I say with a bit of edge. “I’d hate for her to think I’m stealing her side of the bed again.”

  “That would not be what she thinks,” Marquis says quietly.

  “Still,” I cut in.

  My single response is enough to make his hand drop and he steps back to widen the space between us again. As he makes his way to the door, he glances back at me.

  “It is not required for you to punish yourself,” he says. “Sit in the moonlight with him tonight. Just as you did before.”

  Marquis exits, but now I feel as if I’ve been left with something… unresolved. I stare at the door like he might come back in and reprimand me for something I’m sure I deserve at this point, but he doesn’t. I reach out for the urn and carry it with me to the balcony.

  As I sit down on the stone bench, placing the urn carefully in my lap, the sounds of the nightlife begin to rise. It’s almost like the city never really sleeps. Lanterns pulse below and I can hear soft music drifting from a side street. I rest my forehead against the urn out of habit.

  “I’m sorry we haven’t done this in a while,” I whisper.

  It almost feels… silly talking to the urn now. Even as I sit here almost overcome with emotions, the life below passes anyway as bits of laughter rise and fall. Even hours later, I can still hear the rattling of a few carts.

  When my legs begin to stiffen a little, I stand and carry the urn back inside, placing it carefully back where it was before. I’m pulled back to the balcony, but alone this time. Lowering myself back to the stone bench, I let my breathing slow. Surprisingly, I’m able to trance rather quickly tonight. The sounds of the city begin to blur into somewhat of a hum.

  Then my heart starts racing and it almost feels like I’m being thrown from the balcony. Except when I’m supposed to hit the ground, I feel an unnatural and intimate warmth. I open my eyes… and the queen is here standing as if she owns the city.

  The moonlight falls delicately over her bronzed skin, as if it’s crowning her as its queen too. With her breasts bare and long black hair falling down her back, her eyes stay fixed on me. Truthfully, I expect to see disappointment in them, but when I meet her eyes, I find nothing of the sort.

  She simply seems… interested.

  “You…” I try to say.

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  “Did you believe I would not come to visit?” she purrs.

  “Why… why are you here?” I blurt out.

  She steps closer to the balcony’s stone railing and watches the city below.

  “Athkatla has always been so loud,” she muses. “The mortals here are almost adorable.”

  Then the queen turns away as her attention is pulled to the house, clearly amused by what she sees.

  “I see Marquis is still pretending to be mortal as well,” she adds. “He should know better. I will not stay long, my beauty. I simply wanted to see if you were settling in.”

  I shift awkwardly on the stone bench and draw one knee into my chest.

  “Are you here to see Marquis too?” I ask.

  “No.”

  I frown.

  “Why not? Isn’t he your guardian or whatever he likes to call it?”

  She turns away from me, looking over Athkatla once more.

  “Marquis and I have… an understanding,” she replies. “I do not like to indulge him, you see. Besides, I wished to see you without his interference.”

  I swallow sharply.

  “You… didn’t want him to hear?”

  She reaches out, letting one of her slim fingers hover over my cheek.

  “Marquis is my keeper,” she confirms. “It is what he does. But you… you are becoming something far more interesting.”

  The queen moves closer and presses a light kiss to my cheek. It should feel like affection, but it feels more like a claim if I didn’t know any better. Then her hand closes around my wrist, guiding me back inside as if this house belongs to her rather than Marquis. Technically, perhaps it does.

  “Smaller than the last one,” she remarks about my room. “I suppose you always have preferred intimacy over splendor, unlike Marquis.”

  Truthfully, I don’t even know what to say to her. Just as her hand rises to touch Nykky’s urn, the unmistakable sounds of bodies colliding with one another and Phaedra’s gasps carry into the room.

  The queen simply rolls her shoulders back and laughs.

  “Listen to them,” she says, far more delighted than I am to hear it.

  I glare at her.

  “Did you bring me in here just to listen to that?”

  “Perhaps,” she interrupts. “Do you wish to know a secret, my sweet Alexios?”

  A low groan from Marquis follows just as I narrow my eyes at her.

  “He is thinking of Phaedra,” she continues. “How could he not when she is underneath him?”

  “Not much of a secret,” I answer, shrugging my shoulders. “Must have fought earlier.”

  She laughs again.

  “He is also thinking of you.”

  I scoff.

  “That isn’t true,” I tell her.

  “You do not believe me?” she asks curiously, shifting her head to the side to look at me. “He is thinking of the way you look when you refuse him and how you looked sleeping beside him.”

  “He doesn’t think about me like that,” I say, swallowing sharply.

  “You are far more entangled in his thoughts than you think,” she speaks softly. “While Phaedra indulges him, you give him tension.”

  My eyes move to the urn in a feeble attempt to not let my thoughts stray to Marquis.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she answers, pushing me back onto my bed as if I weight absolutely nothing.

  The way she straddles me as if I’m her altar makes me think I understand her intent. Her hair falls forward, bare breasts bouncing as she settles around me. Then she laughs.

  “Do not flatter yourself,” she says. “You would not have to wonder if I wanted pleasure from you.”

  One of her hands takes mine and places it on her hip.

  “Marquis hides behind principles and rules like a crutch,” she continues, leaning forward. “You, on the other hand, could eclipse him if you stopped apologizing for what you are becoming, Alexios. You feel how much more you could be.”

  Marquis is centuries old. How could I ever be more than what he is?

  “Is he… is he going to turn me?”

  The queen’s eyes narrow at me and if I didn’t know it better, I’d say the question offended her. She slides off me at once, as if the idea of Marquis turning me into his fledgling disgusts her.

  “No,” she tells me flatly. “You were not made for him. You will be something else entirely when the time is right.”

  The bed creaks softly when I sit up.

  “What does that even mean?” I ask suddenly. “I don’t understand why I’m still doing this. I killed the men who hurt Nykky. I did what needed to be done… so why am I still killing for you? What’s the point now?”

  “You think vengeance is the end?” she asks, smile dropping for the first time since she arrived here. “It was just the beginning.”

  I shake my head at her.

  “But Nykky is still gone and there’s nothing I can do to bring him back.”

  “It seems as if you have not imagined far enough yet, my darling.”

  The queen steps through the small bedroom, gesturing as she goes.

  “Do you want a beautiful home for him?” she adds. “Not just… a room or an urn, but a house filled with light and a garden that grows exactly as he would have liked.”

  “I…”

  “Do you not wish to have a life where he is remembered through beauty rather than through grief?”

  “I do want that,” I admit softly as she steps closer, her skirt pooling gracefully around her feet. “But… is it even possible?”

  She smiles again as her hand comes to rest on my cheek.

  “It is, but you must keep going. Power cannot be given all at once, Alexios. It must be earned body by body.”

  Twenty-five years ago, that implication would’ve left me horrified. Now, it just causes my chest to ache.

  “I can give you the life he did not get to finish,” she tells me. “But you must continue. You are already walking down the path. Stopping now would mean that you bled for nothing, yes?”

  Her hand drops and she straightens, rolling her shoulders back as her eyes drift to the balcony. I lay back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling while I think about the idea of a beautiful garden, sunlight and a life remade through Nykky’s eyes. I hate how much I want to believe her.

  “How long will it take?” I ask, not thinking.

  “Marquis will lead you somewhere,” she says after a few moments of silence. “A land that will become yours in time.”

  “That… doesn’t exactly answer my question though.”

  The queen reaches out once more, tracing my bottom lip with her fingertip.

  “You will conquer more than you ever hoped.”

  “When will I see this ‘land’?” I ask as frustration sets in.

  “Eventually, Alexios.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but she steps into me instead before I can say anything else. Her lips press against mine softly… then again before moving to leave soft kisses along my jaw.

  “Keep going,” she purrs against my neck. “Build the life you wanted for your bard and do it through blood. Do it through violence.”

  Suddenly, the sounds of Athkatla’s night pour back into the bedroom. I gasp, blinking awake as I’m pulled from my trance. Frantically, I look around the balcony, expecting the queen to still be next to me, but I’m all alone.

  For now, it feels like a waiting game. Wherever Marquis plans to lead me one day, it seems like the land is waiting for me too.

  --

  A few weeks later, I’m making my way to the front door when Marquis catches me softly by the wrist. I see his blue eyes move across the new wool cloak draped over me, the forest green fabric falling just as it should. I’m meant to be seen in it.

  “This is not one of mine,” he says, one eyebrow arched.

  “I know,” I agree as I smooth down the edge of the cloak.

  Marquis circles around me to get a better look at it.

  “Where did this come from? You did not steal it, did you?”

  I scoff.

  “No, I didn’t steal it. I might be a killer for the queen… but I’m not a thief.”

  “Phaedra purchased this for you then?” he says surprised, fingers raising to caress the white fur lining my shoulders.

  “Not Phaedra,” I say. “I didn’t want to keep wearing your old cloaks. I wanted something that was mine and the queen noticed. She gave me a contract and the cloak arrived the next day. A gift, I guess.”

  Marquis takes a step back.

  “She is providing you with gifts now,” he utters, more to himself than to me.

  “Yes.”

  Then his eyes drop to my hands.

  “And the rings?”

  I raise my hands and the gold rings catch the firelight from the hearth, one inlaid with a precisely cut emerald while the other two are inlaid with rubies.

  “They came with it,” I say casually as I shrug.

  His thumb brushes grazes one of the rings as he lifts my hand to his mouth, leaving a gentle kiss on my knuckles.

  He would never admit it, but I can see how much the idea of the queen giving me gifts unsettles him. His attention stays on the careful stitching of the cloak and this polished gold of the rings. I wonder if it bothers him that this didn’t come from his carefully curated world he’s so desperate to keep me in.

  Marquis nods once, then gestures towards the front door.

  “Return safely, Alexios. I suggest you do not stay out too late, understood?”

  “I’ll be home soon,” I tell him as I smile and pull the hood up over my head.

  As I step outside, I can’t help but wonder if the queen is watching me, far too pleased with herself, knowing that I’m walking her path a bit more confidently now.