"Are you serious?"

Nolwud spared me a half-glance and continued to pour out two servings of warm wine into small porcelain cups. I didn't keep crockery. It was something the inventor had brought along or picked up in Fourmikari. The wine was mine; Revergnols' originally, but mine by right. Heating it was opulence completely undeserved by the intended recipient. "Yes, I am. I want to make a good impression on our prisoner."

Ridiculous. "You don't bring treats and drinks to the dungeon."

"You don't," clarified the Technologist.

"It's the dungeon! It's not designed to be enjoyed! Those who are locked away are meant to suffer."

"Look," exasperated Nolwud. "I'm in charge of the prisoners. You granted me that. Let me do things my way." "You've been at it for three days," I sneered. "What makes you think Watavil is going to bend to your will with alcohol and sugar? What good is earning her fondness? Does your ego need that much of a boost?" "There's more to be gained from her good graces than her hatred," said Nolwud. "To begin with, we wouldn't need to continue keeping her in the dungeon." I stared. "Watavil is my prisoner. She stays in the dungeon." The inventor made to argue. "I am aware you managed to squirm your way out, but she has none of your skill with electronics or laser scepters. Her value is reliant solely upon her ability to pair off and carry on the Fourmikari line." I folded my arms. "Which makes her of no use to anyone." "Well," Nolwud put forth. "Maybe I could help with that." I gave the Technologist a mortified look. "What?" Nolwud's arms flailed. "I meant I could teach her something, give her new skills she could use. I think it must be an unfulfilling existence to have a limited education. She's probably itching for the chance to broaden her horizons." "Nolwud," I said with a tempered sweetness. "You do remember I intend to kill everyone from Fourmikari, yes? Do you remember that?" The Technologist was defiant. "I'm going to teach her." The tray of accoutrements and hor d'oeuvres was snatched up. Nolwud marched out in a huff. "Teach her what?" I followed behind at a leisurely pace. There was no reason to match the inventor. I sincerely wanted no part in plying the prisoner. "Some manners would be nice." Nolwud gained a considerable lead. My casual sauntering brought me to the dungeon stairwell in time for a cacophonous crash. "I don't want your charity, pulp sucker!"

It was what I had expected.

I sang to Rott with great amusement. "Music to my-"

The poor inventor. The worm tightened his grip on my shoulders. You should help, my liege. This affection for Nolwud was still infuriating. I would never accept that the worms could appreciate anyone other than myself. "No." I posted out of sight to eavesdrop. "This is the Technologist's project." I waved a hand. "Just one more unfinished project on a growing list." "I apologize if I've offended you," Nolwud said, collecting up the pieces from the floor. I didn't need to look. The sounds and the Technologist's nature told me enough. "I think we got off on the wrong foot." "I want nothing to do with you." Watavil. "Lordavis has a tendency to act cruelly and impulsively," entreated Nolwud. "As I've said, I've no such intentions." "Lordavis is a joke. But you? You're not even a pun." Witty. I would need to use that. The inventor went quiet. Then, "What is the basis for that assessment?" "What?" Sigh. "Why don't you like me?" "Is it usual for a captive to like her captor?" "T-that--!" Nolwud stammered, taken aback by the accusation. "Y-you're not my captive." "You told me yesterday," mused Watavil, "that I would be ransomed back to Fourmikari. You stressed it wasn't Lordavis's idea. Whose idea, then, was it?" "Lordavis would kill you," insisted Nolwud. "Lordavis wouldn't let you go back." Watavil spoke casually. She was unaffected by her circumstances. "Then that makes Lordavis my executioner and you my...?" Dejected and defeated. "Captor." "Idiot," I whispered to Rott. What is being said, my liege? "I've heard enough," I remarked. "Nolwud is no more effective today than any other." Painyll was waiting at the ready when we entered the throne room. Since Nolwud's official promotion to my successor, the large and emotional male had begun to act as though our acquaintance ran deeper. He smiled broadly and caught me in a large hug before I could react. "My liege! Good morning! Would you like to hear my latest verse? I have been toiling throughout the night for its sake!" Rott dislodged from my shoulders to safety as I threatened, "Release me or I will have your arms. All of them." Painyll drew back with a nervous laugh. "Of course! Of course!" Patting my shoulders, he put forth, "Do you have anything planned today, my liege Lordavis?" "You mean beyond watching the Technologist suffer further humiliation? No." Painyll's face fell. "Again today? Why is there any need to interact with her?" He took my hand and held it between his. "My liege, can't we both agree that you will dispose of that prisoner as soon as possible?" I couldn't resist the low hanging fruit. "Oh, I don't know. I'm growing rather fond of her. The great Watavil possesses an unanticipated charm. Perhaps I'll allow her lodging outside of the cells." I tapped my jaw. "She will need fine accommodations. I believe you currently use the finest I have to offer." "My liege," whimpered Painyll. "Don't worry, I won't force you to relinquish your arrangement." I leaned in. "I insist you stay. You both will share." "My liege!" bawled the poet. I cackled the walk to my throne. Painyll didn't fret for long, joining me at the top of the platform no sooner than I had sat. "My liege, I was wondering if you'd like to traipse with me." "No," I said firmly. "Is that a euphemism?" Then again, "No."

Painyll clarified, mirth forced upon his features. "No euphemism, my liege. I want to go for a walk. I want to see the places in Nova I recall."

"There's not much of that left," I said.

"I would like a private audience with you," he added.

"Why?" The Dramatist didn't need to say. "Perhaps because you're jealous of Nolwud? Worried we might be disturbed here? Worried you'd be overheard besmirching your rival?" Painyll folded his hands and bowed his head respectfully. "I find it difficult to fathom that you would so easily make an outsider you dislike your successor. I would like a chance to show you my qualifications."

"I know your qualifications," I replied. "You are an oversized laureate, you are a foolish droll, and the worms do not like you. You are hedonistic and interested only in your wellbeing."

Painyll's smile faltered. "How is that any different than you, my liege? You are only interested in yourself!"

"Well," I said proudly, "It's my kingdom. I can be as selfish as I like."

"That walk," said Painyll. "I should still like to take it with you if you've nothing else to do."

"There are many other things I would prefer to do," I said. I considered, finally allowing. "I'll take a walk with you. But just the two of us."

Rott lifted his head. Alone? With him?

"Yes," I said. I would be able to speak to things the worms weren't meant to hear.

Unexpectedly, Painyll was less wary of the suggestion than I had thought him to be. He looked to his guards. "I'm going out with my liege Lordavis. Remain here." Glances were exchanged, an odd gesture given both were blind. I stood as the poet inquired, "Shall we descend by conventional means or will you use your magic?"

"I will use my magic," I said. "I leave you to conventional means." I landed on the path beneath the palace and folded my hands behind me as I waited for the other. I did not wait long. Brushing his back, Painyll muttered, "Let me get my bearings, my liege. If the palace is here..."

"You were most likely this way," I said, indicating the Marketplace and High Hill. "I find it unlikely my predecessor housed you in the Farms."

"I did not mind the Farms," said Painyll. "I never worried for my safety." He turned in a slow circle, enjoying the sunlight. "There is something to be said for going outside on occasion."

I marched ahead, calling, "This is going to be a brief walk."

"I might have been present for your birth," Painyll ruminated. His mind was off on its own excursion. "It seems likely, doesn't it? I am several years older than you and you've lived here your entire life."

I peered over my shoulder. "This has only occurred to you now?"

Painyll sighed dramatically. "Certainly I remember Revergnols speaking of successors. There were at least four that I recall. It was fortuitous to be the last with that title, especially for someone from your origins."

"Why do you know of my origins?"

"You were born of Nova," said Painyll. "There's only one possible origin." He stopped to run a hand across a tree, feeling the bark. "All things considered, I think it was rather kind of Revergnols to grant you the kingdom, don't you?"

I did not think of Revergnols as kind. Painyll's adulation was misplaced. "Revergnols kept you for Fourmikari." I scowled. "How magnanimous." "No!" Painyll at last matched me in pace. "I was different. Revergnols saw me as something special and sent me away when things got dire. Don't you think I would have been here with the others when you had your orgy of death?" Indeed. I would have slaughtered Painyll along with the rest.

The poet waxed, "'Take this with you,' Revergnols said, handing me the seal. 'Stay away! Come back in many years' time and you will be granted sanctuary'." Painyll was pleased by his reminiscence. He shone a bit brighter. "I did enjoy Revergnols. It's a pity to be without." He turned to me. "Don't you miss Revergnols sometimes?"

"Never," I said adamantly.

"Didn't Revergnols care for you?" Ha! "Clothe you?" Oh, what a great service! "Keep you sheltered in the palace?" A prisoner, more like. Painyll harrumphed, "Honestly, I think you're doing your predecessor a disservice."

"Am I?" I taunted sarcastically. "I'll have to work on that." Painyll's turned his focus from me. He was excited. "Yes! This looks familiar." He examined the surroundings with wonder. "There used to be a signpost there."

"Probably," I said. There used to be many things.

"Yes, there was a signpost there, and a garden of flowers here, and a statue of Revergnols approximately here..." Painyll puttered about, gesturing and proclaiming. Abruptly, he said, "You know, Technologist Nolwud has no appreciation for how this was. Technologist Nolwud was never here for Nova. It seems inappropriate to have someone without true knowledge as your successor."

"Do you imagine?" "I can do my best to impart my wisdom," continued Painyll. "Share the history, educate the Technologist, but it's not the same. You recognize that. You're practical. Nolwud is new. Nolwud is foreign. Nolwud didn't experience Nova as you and I did."

"Actually," I said, "you've made a better case for the Technologist."

"My liege?" The poet failed to recognize his mistake.

"I hated Nova," I said. "I don't pine for the way things were. I'm the one who tore them away. Someone without any knowledge or memories of how Nova stood is ideal to inherit the Kingdom of Ever-Worms."

"You hate Technologist Nolwud," insisted Painyll, attempting to sow discord.

Would you like to hear a secret? A dragonfly whispered.

"What?" I looked up. A social gathering of the small, winged variety.

"I said," Painyll reiterated. "You hate Technologist Nolwud. It's hardly surprising, my liege. Technologist Nolwud has many faults."

I would like to hear a secret, cooed a second dragonfly.

I would like to hear a secret, said another. A cluster of three hovered overhead. I observed quietly.

Someone waits behind the tree with a blade. Who do they wait for? Do you know?

No. Do you?

There was only one tree wide enough to obscure a body in the immediate vicinity. I was perplexed. Nolwud's work with the security system should have covered the area. My beacons should have covered the area. There had been no warning sizzle of electricity or light upon my hand. It implied careful planning and study. To wait with a blade brought to mind the previous assassin.

One of those two, purred the dragonfly. They will surely stab! When beetles come for their corpses, snickered another, we shall have them!

"My liege?" Painyll queried. "Are you alright?"

"Hm?" I returned to my companion. "Fine. I don't have any interest in this conversation. I'm not assuaging your envy." I waved a hand. "Nolwud is my successor."

"It's a mistake," mumbled Painyll, aping concern. "If you want Nova to flourish, you must have someone more qualified take over."

I feigned thoughtfulness. "I might be convinced were you to show more conviction." I motioned down the trail. "There is a field of wildflowers beyond the crest of the hill. Pick me the flower you think encapsulates my being best and I will consider your proposition." Painyll hesitated. He tried to gauge my intention and sincerity. "This is a test, Dramatist Painyll. If you think yourself a better suited successor, woo me."

"Oh, well, I've never had any interest in wooing anyone," the poet began. He held up a hand. "But if it's a matter of flowers, I have great faith in my ability to know your mind. I'm quite good with flowers, my liege. Anything pertaining to the arts, really."

I didn't need qualifications. I waved towards the alleged field, indicating a desire to see him leave. "Yes, yes, good luck." The useless mass shambled onward as I hung back and watched. When Painyll had begun to round the wide tree, I called out, "My liege Lordavis, there's one more thing I forgot to tell you!" Painyll was understandably confused. He turned back, responding with, "What? What did you say?" A dark figure sprang, catching him at his side and driving a dirk through both arm and waist. Painyll screamed in indignation, then terror, then pain. I took the opportunity to call forth a portal and appear opposite the attacker.

The would-be assassin tried to catch me. The weapon remained lodged in Painyll, catching on the cloth of his robe in the attempt to remove it. I drew a blade of my own and speared the trespasser underneath the jaw. Staggering back, the figure toppled to the ground, twitching for a few moments before going limp. I rubbed my hands together.

"I seem to be relatively unsoiled," I announced.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" replied Painyll. "Shut up, Painyll." The poet had fallen as well. He clutched at the site of the wound. I knelt and yanked the assassin's blade out with extra force. Painyll scambled to cover his leaking fluids as I chanted an incantation.

"My liege!" Painyll shrieked. "I've been attacked! Stabbed! Shivved!" I nodded, standing to my full height. "Lucky it was you and not I. This blade is also enchanted with the same spell as the last."

"I'm dying," whined Painyll. "My liege, you must HELP ME!"

I thought I was nice for transporting the injured buffoon back to the throne room via a portal but I was mistaken. The poet's guards did not believe my coy claims of innocence. They removed him from my presence as soon as we arrived. Nolwud hurried to attend as well once the situation was relayed (I waited until I changed into fresh garments and sent the dirtied to be laundered). The inventor chastised my attitude and general lethargy.

Painyll wasn't going to expire. It was a deep wound but hardly fatal. There was no need to rush. Why didn't you leave him, my liege? Rott inquired when we were alone in the throne room. Accidents happen. It was the right time. The inventor could not blame you.

"I have use for him yet," I said. "He aspires to Nolwud's position."

Rott had to think that over. He wants to be successor?

"He does. He says it's awfully unbefitting to make the inventor my successor."

You wouldn't...would you? Rott was appalled by the possibility. I dismissed it.

"No, but he doesn't know that. It's one more way in which I can use Painyll to my benefit."

Before you kill him?

I gave Rott a knowing look. "Of course I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill every individual of Fourmikari lineage." Except for one, obviously, beamed the worm, nuzzling into my chest.

"Except for one," I lied. Nolwud was unclear how to approach me after a stint of playing doctor. The inventor was savvy enough to recognize my lack of ignorance but uncertain how far it extended. The Technologist opened with, "Why are you trying to kill Painyll?" "Because it's my kingdom and I--" "I mean today," snapped Nolwud. "Why did you try to kill him today?" What story had the poet related? This would be fun. I smirked, stroking my jaw. "Because it's my kingdom and I felt like it." Nolwud's eyes dipped. I followed in time for "Two daggers?" "One can never have too many daggers." "Which one is magic?" inquired the inventor dryly. "Neither." I quipped. "And if you weren't going out of your way to spite Gallivur, what would you tell me?" I shrugged. "What does Painyll tell you?" "That you lured him out on false pretenses and hired an assassin." Nolwud crossed to the window and gazed across the kingdom. "I know you'd rather finish him off yourself." "He's rather vocal that you shouldn't be successor." I said. "That he's better suited." "He can have it," sighed Nolwud. "If that's what he wants." "I chose you." I fawned over Rott. The worm was pleased by my attention. "It's what I want, not him. This is my kingdom." "About this latest assasin," Nolwud started. "Are you and Watavil good friends now?" I asked, shifting the topic. "No." Nolwud pressed on, refusing to switch. "Did you get a good look at this latest assassin?" "Unfortunate," I jeered. I would carry on as though the conversation went as I wanted it. The Technologist frowned, wise to my way. "You didn't tell the worms about the assassin?" "Why bother?" I chuckled. We were talking about Watavil. Neither Rott nor the servants slithering about showed any comprehension beyond that. Nolwud's arms crossed. "Send Rott away. Talk to me in private." I smiled. "No." Returning to the annelid, I murmured, "Shall we go to the library?" Yes, my liege. "Lordavis." "Let's go, Rott," I said. "The inventor has to get back to work."