"Tyvian defied me.” There is warning in my tone for Rath too, lest he decide to become openly defiant as well.
Rath growls and shifts uncomfortably on the throne which is not his and does not fit him. He will never find that seat a good match for his anatomy. It will inevitably reject him. He knows that deep down. I think I see the edges of a pillow he has put beneath his rear to try to stave off the inevitable blisters of discontent.
“Tusk, you cannot attack the loyal. There are pitifully few of us now.”
“I am well aware of that, my king. Better to prune to the very trunk of the tree than to tolerate a single sprig of disloyalty.”
It almost makes me laugh how much these little fools fall for the hardline loyalist act. They believe I am rigid to the point of stupidity.
“Tyvian is undergoing an advanced surgery to repair the wounds you inflicted. If you had…”
Rath stops short of telling me that if I had killed Tyvian I would have lost his allegiance, but I already know he is not loyal. Rath is the least loyal of us all. He owes no allegiance to anyone or anything besides himself.
“I warned you what would happen if you tried to deny me, Rath. I told Tyvian to stand aside. I have never understood why you all seem to have so little ability to comprehend the most simple orders.”
“Tusk…”
“Enough. Rath. Tyvian’s injuries are his own fault. The human is mine. I brought her to this world. I brought her into this palace. And then, for reasons best known to the two of you, you decided that she was your possession. I do not intend to share Margaret. I intend to break her of her insolent silence and discover every secret inside that fragile human skull.”
“We were trying to keep the human safe. There is no possible method for her to have traveled here, killed someone, and returned to 1950’s Earth. The outline of your proposition is impossible, and you know it.”
“The capacity of your limited little mind may not comprehend it, Rath, but believe me, all things are possible. The scythkin invaded our homeworld. Destroyed every part of it and turned it into a scorched broodsite fought over by wounded, dying matriarchs. To this day, not a blade of grass grows on the world we once rose from. And now, at the moment Krush would have been tempted into mating his first harem, a slaughter stops the mating ceremony and sends him into the arms of a one-legged human female who is now pregnant with the bastard offspring of the crown. If you think those two events are not inextricably linked, then you are foolish beyond compare.”
"But the scythkin do not care about us, or our world.”
“No. They care about humans. That is what protects this world from their invasion. To storm Megaris would be to destroy all the precious little people they hold so dear. So instead, they work from within. They send agents to sow discord.”
“Why would they send a terrified woman to do a warrior’s work? You're paranoid.”
“Yes. I am. And you are a usurper sitting on a throne you have no right to. If you are not paranoid, you are stupid.”
Rath’s augmented eyes flash in their own ways. “You have ensured that Tyvian is in no shape to run the dungeon. Enjoy custody of the human. Try not to kill her.”
“I will kill her if I please, and I do not need to be told to enjoy it. You need to stop speaking to me like a petty subject, Rath. I do not truly answer to you. You answer to me. Get your hide off that throne. It doesn't belong there. It never will.”
Rath leans back in the throne, curling his fingers around the armrests. That simple gesture tells me all I need to know. Rath has gotten attached to the notion of being royal, though he knows he is not.
I had a feeling he would become somewhat attached to it. Thrones have a way of appealing to the egos of the undeserving. The easy status, the inferred respect, and the illusion of power are all incredibly tempting to the weak. Rath will be occupied for quite some time.
“PATHETIC INTERLOPERS! IT IS YOUR TRUE KING, COMING TO YOU FROM THE HEART OF MEGARIS, WHERE REAL RULERS LIVE.”
Krush is starting another of his broadcasts.
“I’m surprised you allow them to play inside the palace,” I note.
"I've tried to stop them,” he sighs. “There are workarounds everywhere. I disabled all the speakers in the palace, and it began playing through a resonance in the stone themselves.”
“You mean there are loyalists enabling this from inside the palace itself.”
“Of course there are."
I AM GIVING YOU THREE DAYS TO VACATE THE THRONE OF MEGARIS, USURPING INTERLOPER, OR YOU WILL FIND YOURSELF THE FAKE KING OF NOTHING AT ALL!