“He wants me to do what?” I asked Natalia through clenched teeth.

It’s only been a day since I, though it was really Desperation, sent the King scurrying away while Piety defended his back. At first, I was surprised that whoever had informed him about my decision regarding the warriors hadn’t mentioned the rather large desert dog following me around like, well, a dog.

“I believe I was clear. His High—”

Her pleased expression vanishes as I raise a hand and her mouth audibly clicks shut. It’s a satisfying sound.

“I hear you.” I snap, “he wants me to help the people.”

In other words, meet with the citizens and see if I can’t help them with their issues somehow. Nothing complicated, really. Bandits on the roads, a concussect mound spotted, a gym of lizards making a run from the geyser fields to the mountains. Simple things meant to be dealt with by the guard on the Kings orders.

But that was the King’s job. It’s part of the job!

“This is how he’s punishing me?”

For me, it’s the perfect punishment, dealing with people. That is, Vandal, on the other hand, is like America and its need to help other countries. Somewhat compulsive, though.

But I’ve been in front of the King twice for all of less than five minutes? Did he really have the time to pick something up about my personality?

The answer is, without a doubt, yes.

Dammit. It’s fine. Yeah, it’s okay. I just have to answer. A simple “I’ll see to it it.” Will work.

“Natalia, handle their requests.”

Damnit.

Damnit. Damnit. Damnit!

She seems to miss my wince, “I think not. You’d do well to put in the effort, boy. His highness is thinking of choosing you as his successor.”

“A hard choice. You either get insane or apathetic.” I mutter back.

With me being the apathetic one, I think.

If I’m the insane one, everyone is in for a whole world of pain.

She places a hand on her hip and attempts to draw herself straighter but considering her form. Unfortunately, she doesn’t get any more height out of the gesture. I watch her eye twitch, though she’d deny her eyes ever twitched if anyone asked her.

“You’ll not speak of your King in such a fashion.”

I address her with a shrug. “You do you, but I doubt you’ll get the answer you’re looking for. I’m going to take a nap.”

Though I say that, I plan to retreat to my rooms and delve deeper into making a plan to deal with the hares. Everything needs to be dealt with. From the food they eat to the waste, their bodies make when left to rot in the sands, a field of corpses is the last thing anyone needs.

Especially since the animal that eats the carrion is much more aggressive than a vulture.

“You’ll find your way to your seat in the Throne Room and see to their requests.” She snarled any semblance of professionalism drained from her, and an overly bossy mother stepped into her place. “Don’t, and I’ll see that his Highness is made away of the blast pouches you’ve brought into Rue’s rooms.”

Low blow.

“I don’t see how it’s his business.”

“Her aides won’t return to the office until the explosives are removed.”

Actually, that sounds right for anyone, and there’s no blaming them.

Looking over at Desperation, I nod toward Natalia, “you think you could eat her and leave none of the evidence behind?”

It’s hardly a whisper, but the two of them hear me.

For a moment, the dog looked confused before nodding.

As for Natalia, she twitches and frowns. “See that you’re there no later than mid-morning.”

She’s out the door before I can reply, which is too bad. It was all about how inedible she’d be. Oh, well.

Biting the webbing between my thumb and forefinger, I take a deep breath. And hold it, and hold it, and hold it.

Until it feels like the beating of my heart is permeating every bit of me, then I let it out slowly. Only then do I lift a page from the table.

Many would argue that the traps I’ve listed don’t seem overly practical as far as defenses go. However, considering none of the options are lethal, at least not by themselves, it’s not a surprise.

However, as nets and cages aren’t something they can bite through, I like their odds. And with those and the bombs, I like ours.

Nonetheless, I bite my thumb as I scramble to think of another way to increase our odds.

It’s hours later as I’m all but asleep in the chair beside the table when the answer comes.

Bolting from my chair, I begin rifling through the papers, but I know even if it’s not there. The hares have a number sense. In other words, with some margin, they can tell how many they number.

All that has to be done is remove enough of them, and they’d scatter like roaches when the lights come on.

Maybe I’ve lost my mind, or the exhaustion’s catching up, but I can’t keep myself from laughing as I try to find a way to sleep.

— –

The following day, Samira throws the doors to the throne room wide as the drums strike mid-morning. Was it later than Natalia hoped I’d turn up? Probably yeah. But it’s not like I would have shown up if she hadn’t threatened to take the blast pouches from me.

“His Highness Prince Vandal,” Samira announces as I walk in.

As expected, the number of people within is low. Not many are willing to try their luck breaking the peace with Piety to beat a clear understanding into people. One might even suggest the manifestation enjoyed his time educating people in order so that they might adequately serve a master.

A total of five, three of the green, one of the red, and one distinctly not of the Romabaec. Definitely one of Ama’s. He looks familiar, with long dark hair tied in a tail, light skin, and delicate features. All of it is pretty standard for the Trinniel, but there’s something I’m missing.

Like the information crammed right before a test, it’s there, and I can’t reach it.

“Okay, listen up!”

In unison, their heads swivel to me.

“I’m going to make this quick. I’ve got a lot to do. Want to complain? Fine, just direct it at the head of the King’s guard.”

All of them recoil. I guess they dislike Natalia as much as I do.

Making my way around the room, I nod to the two young women in their artisan green. Both looked like they’d gotten into a bar brawl with fat lips, bloody noses. The one on the right, half her face, had swollen so much her eye stuck closed.

“Are you two here for mediation or something?”

The swollen one nods, “Highness, sir, this walking ablution stole me from my pantry while on patrol last night!”

And, of course, it’s personal—figures.

“I didn’t steal nothing.” The other snarled and raised a clenched fist threateningly.

“See! She admits it! She just said she steals!”

Having heard enough, I raise my hand. A, she said-she said, argument is about as helpful here as on earth.

“Congratulations, I’ve heard you both and made my decision.”

Pointing at the one whose face looked like a horse had kicked it, I continued.

“You, no, just no. Take a seat on the bench outside, and someone will see you.”

Catching Samira’s eye, I raise an eyebrow, and she nods. Good, now she gets to decide on what happens. Looking over to the other, I sigh.

“You, what’s your name?”

She drops her fist to her side and drops to a knee. “I… uh… Hannah,” she spoke nearly silently in stark contrast to her actions.

“Well, Hannah, have you thought about joining those of the red? A few years, and I can see you making it to the white. Consider it.”

Both of them blink and stare silently at me.

Moving on.

The next in line is the one in the beige. I raise a hand as he looks to speak. “Apologies, I’ll make time to hear you, but I must attend to my people first.”

He inclines his head and steps back. The following green steps forward.

“Sire, the kitchens request a new stove. A crack has started to form in the stone.”

Now that is an issue. Enough hungry people, and there might be a riot. Granted, one or two days without wouldn’t kill anyone, but it meant it couldn’t be ignored.

“Make up the request. I’ll make sure you get fast-tracked. Is that all?”

She looks more stunned than a deer in the headlights but manages a nod. Good.

Finally, the red. “What’s your issue?”

Her eyes narrow. “I am Kishna, Senior guardswoman. I have the numbers his Royal Highness asked for last time.”

That got my attention.

She offers up a sheaf of paper that I snatch from her hands.

As expected, its several pages detailing the increasing number of failing stabilizers. Over the course of the last week, nine people have died due to failure, up from five the previous week.

The papers crinkle between my fingers. “I thank you for the information. I’ll take care of this.”

Samira grabs my arm.

“Sire, perhaps you should refrain from promises?”

My response is a shake of my head, then shoving the pages into her arms.

The red, no, Kishna started to bow her way out of the room, stopping as I grabbed her shoulder. “Please inform me if it rises anymore.”

Kishna nods, bows and strides from the room.

Now only the beige cloaked Trinniel and I remain. And Samira and Desperation but the two of them are starting to feel more like my accessories at this point.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

The Triennial nodded, “I am Crick Coil, you Highness, and I’ve come to ask for the right to purchase one of your swords.”

Crick Coil. Right. Moderately famous Hero of the Trinniel and captain of the “D’Artagnan,” the only working submarine on Parsis. Why the hell was he so far from the ocean? Who’s watching his sister?

Wait, is he even supposed to be alive? Never mind, he is. That’s all that matters.

And he wants one of the ivory swords?

“We do not just sell our blades, outsider.” Samira snaps. “They are earned.”

Crick nods, “I’ve heard. Do you prefer I best a champion of your choosing or perform a task?”

Raising an eyebrow, I smirk. “Confident for a guy who won’t be able to charge the weapons with electricity during the test.”

He shrugs and offers a smile. “You don’t get to be where I am with just one trick, Highness.”

“Fair enough, so why not both? The task and the bout.”

Crick bows low, but his smile is evident to any who listens. “Agreed. Do you have a champion in mind?”

I shake my head and start to answer as the door bursts open and a woman in green that looks vaguely familiar bursts in. She takes one look at me before bending over and grabbing her knees.

Wait, I’ve got it. “Weren’t you at Ryver’s?”

Still breathless, she nods.

Wait, Ryver, was something happening with the animals? Damnit, I need those animals!

“It’s gone——nuts,” she breathes.

Nodding, I look at Crick. “Task first, best prepare. The hares arrive in the next few days.”

Even as I walk out of the room, I can’t keep the smile on my face. But unfortunately, that might have been the last necessary step to not needing to engage in direct combat.

— –

Skidding to a stop outside the stables, I’m suddenly hit with an odd feeling of deja vu. There’s a pit in my stomach, and something feels like it’s trying to claw its way out.

Rapid clicks pull my attention to the small three-tailed scorpion attempting to reach me: a Maeasilm, another child of the Goddess.

Oh, and what a surprise, it’s angry.

I’m not worried. If I had a stick, I’d poke it.

Desperation is barking from his place beside me, and a black and white blur dives onto the scorpion from behind. Its shovel-like claws tore through the carapace and ripped its tails away.

It shrieks in victory as it begins digging into its meal.

“It looks like the animals have gotten out of their cages,” Samira says.

“No?” Rolling my eyes, I drop to a knee and snap my fingers, focusing on the tuviat in front of me.

Its attention shifts. It scurries across the ground like a snake on its way to me before burying its face into my hand. Any doubt about what the feeling is precisely has been wiped away.

“I see,” Samira whispered, “the mother seems to favor you to reunite you with two of her other children.”

“That’s what you took from that?”

“Highness! Why are you here! Why would his Majesty send you?” Ryver asks as he slams his way through the door. He stops as he catches sight of the Tuviat pressing its head into my hand like a dog desperate for pets.

“Ablution, did you tame another of them!” He seems angry, but the sigh as he stopped just feet from me suggests otherwise.

I shrug. There’s no good answer for that.

“You’ll tame one of your own soon enough.”

He snorts, “I’ll believe that I’ve barely managed to get the Sand Steeds the Trinniel sent last time to pull the skiffs Rue’s been designing when it comes to pass.”

“Do not belittle your progress Ryver.” On the contrary, Samira argues, “no one else has managed your strides.”

“Enough,” I interrupt. “The green you sent said there was an emergency.”

Ryver scratched the back of his head then pointed at the weasel/ferret-like creature weaving between my legs in a figure-eight pattern.

He shrugs. “We’d dangerous animals that got out of their cages. It’s standard procedure.”

That sounds right. Make someone aware, so they don’t get a chance to cause damage to the city or its people.

A brief look at the area confirms there isn’t a single other animal out and about, and Ryver doesn’t look like he’s lost a dangerous critter anywhere either.

“So were these the only two?”

I point down at the scorpion and the weasel still eating it.

He nods. “There was a rare creature that the Trinniel brought as a gift for your Father. Sadly, your little friend down there thought it might be a nice snack.”

“I bet it tasted like chicken, didn’t it bud.”

The tuviat looks at me, licks the feelers’ blood surrounding its nose and returns to its meal. Or it started to before its ears twitched, and it whirled about its fur, rising as it hissed and spit.

Any doubt I’d managed to gain about the Tuviats taste in people vanishes as I find Natalia approaching. Two of the red flank her, and all three are looking about, likely for a beast that escaped.

“So you’ve gained another pet?” SHe asks as she spots the Tuviat at my feet.

I snort, “I’m half tempted to order you to apologize.”

Her eyes widened. Not sure why. All that it enjoys in the tender flesh of children is directly connected to the Goddess worshipped by the warriors she surrounded herself with.

She crosses an arm over her chest and inclines her head. Not to me, but the Tuviat.

“Just so you are aware, you’ll be taking over Tolwren meetings with the people for the foreseeable future. So, in fact, consider them yours.”

In other words, she and likely the King are punishing me more.

I’m tempted to order the reds to stand aside and allow Natalia to be eaten, but somehow I feel the critter would take me far more seriously than I intended.

“Let’s head to the market. I could use something to eat,” I grumble.

“Agreed. However, afterward, I suggest we have someone check your wounds.” Samira said as she moved to walk beside the beasts and me.