Juliette II

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Juliette paced back and forth in her tent, worrying her lip.

It was the day after she had conquered the tribe, and she had calmed down considerably. She couldn’t sleep (and also didn’t need to) so instead she had spent the night wandering the village, with nothing but her own thoughts to distract her.

And so, she considered her actions. She thought about what she had done the past few days. And she realized something.

She’d fucked up.

Not in attacking first—no matter what, she knew she’d get attacked eventually, if not by this King then by someone else. But the way she went about it had been… impulsive.

She had panicked and charged in unprepared. She had directly caused the deaths of fourteen people and injured dozens more. Not only was that appalling morally, but it was also completely unsustainable. That was about 7-8% of her new total population! That was way too many deaths!

Frankly, one death was too many deaths. ‘But it’s a bit too late for that, huh, murderer?’

She shook her head, grimacing. Focus. She needed to focus on the future, not the past. Focus.

Her original idea had been to conquer the first village and then use the people there to bolster her own army, allowing her to conquer the next village and exponentially grow from there.

If she did it fast enough, she figured she could become the strongest power, at least locally, securing her time to build up and become even stronger and more secure. In reality, she’d be lucky if she managed to stabilize this village within the year, much less a dozen others.

Someone had tried to kill her. She already had people trying to assassinate her.

In less than a day.

(Her soul, hidden in a little pit dug beneath her bed, pulsed with her unease. She tried not to think about it.)

So, Plan A had been scrapped. Plan B was now more about consolidation. She’d build up what she had for now. She’d get a road between the two villages—or maybe trying to set up boat travel would be better? Some way to move back and forth more quickly. Then she’d build up her own army, turn her soldiers into an actual fighting force, not just a bunch of hunter conscripts. Finally, she’d need to better integrate this village into her own burgeoning kingdom.

Which meant she’d need to spend a lot of time traveling back and forth between the two. She’d need to… politic. Somehow.

She’d figure that out later.

She’d leave Meiling in charge of this village—while she’d miss the older woman’s help leading her own tribe, she needed someone experienced and trustworthy to rule this village in her stead. She’d also leave a couple of others as well—people with strong ties back to her own village, so that they wouldn’t try to betray her. Then there would be the people she was taking back with her. They’d have to be treated well, so that when they returned home they’d talk all about how great and benevolent their new Queen was.

Ugh. She felt like scum even thinking that.

But she was a ruler now, and propaganda was a part of ruling. And that was the thing—she was a ruler, and as much as she hadn’t wanted to become one in the first place… she didn’t want to stop being one now.

She was a Queen. The little girl who wanted to be a princess was giggling every time she thought that. The cynical twenty-year-old in her told her that if she stopped being a Queen she’d die of dysentery or something as a peasant.

Basically, something she had forced herself to acknowledge, was that she’d rather stay a Queen, even if it made her a bad person.

Honestly, even thinking that probably made her a bad person by default. But she was already a murderer, so, hey.

Nodding to herself, Juliette let out a tense sigh. Right. She was a bad person. But she was a bad person with a plan, and now she just needed to start implementing it.

With that she left her tent, making her way through the village, pretending to ignore the hateful/wary/devoted looks turned her way.

Step one, deal with the prisoner.

--

“Qian,” Juliette nodded to her second in command, who was standing outside of their temporary ‘jail.’ Well, ‘jail’ was a strong word—it was just a tent with some guards around it, but it wasn’t like they had anything better to work with. “Has the prisoner caused any trouble?”

The man seemed to straighten under her gaze. “Some, my Queen. But it’s nothing that we—soldiers trained by you yourself—can’t handle, that I assure you!”

“Some?” She asked, frowning slightly. “What happened? Is everyone alright?”

“Your kindness does you credit, my Queen. But not to worry, she only tried to escape once! All she got was a nasty bruise for her troubles,” the man chuckled.

Juliette paused. “Bruise? You haven’t been hurting her too badly, have you?”

The man’s eyes widened almost comically, before he twisted in a near ninety-degree bow. “I assure you my Queen, we’ve treated her with the utmost care and respect—much more than she deserves for attempting to harm your divine body! The only injures that she suffered were from when she tried to escape, this I swear on my life!”

Juliette stepped back from the man, eyes wide. He had never been that… exuberant before. Sure, he had been her greatest supporter from day one—it was why he was her second in command. But this…

‘What the hell?’ she thought, flabbergasted.

Wait, he was still bowing. ‘Uh, what was that word generals use?’

“At ease, Qian,” she told him, somewhat proud she had kept her voice even. “I trust your word; I was just worried I may not have been clear enough on how she should be treated.”

The man straightened up from his bow, looking flattered for some reason. “Our Lady is too kind, truly. I’m honored by your trust in me.”

‘The fuck?’ she thought, staring at him like he was an alien. ‘Who are you and what have you done with Qian?’

“Er, right. I’m just going to… I’m going to speak with the prisoner now. If I need anything, I’ll call you,” she told him, walking into the tent.

“As my Queen commands!”

‘Right. I’ll figure that out later. For now…’ Juliette stared down at the other woman in front of her. The woman was well built with dark brown hair pulled into a braid. She was sitting on the ground, with ropes binding her arms and legs. She was also chewing on the ropes around her wrists, making disturbingly good progress.

As Juliette entered the room, the other woman looked up at her, staring at her with such utter hatred that the fledgling monarch couldn’t help but take a step back.

“So,” the woman spat, “You’ve finally shown yourself. Have you come to kill me and put me down like you did everyone else!?”

Juliette flinched, before a scowl formed on her face. “I’m not that cruel. Everyone who surrendered is alive and well. And unlike you, they are all outside and free.”

The other woman scoffed. “’Free.’ That’s a funny word for it. Free to be slaves, begging to suck on their new master’s teat—”

“Do you want to die?” Juliette snarled, her hand snapping to her dagger.

“I’d rather die than live in the same world as you.”

Juliette took a deep breath, taking her hand off of the dagger and forcing herself to relax. ‘Calm down. Don’t rise to her taunts. You’re better than this!’

“Tell me, prisoner, what is your name?”

“Bite me.”

Juliette sighed, before sticking her head out of the tent. “Qian,” she called out to the man, who was scowling at nothing. “What is the prisoners name?”

The man turned to look at her. “The local call this savage,” he spat, glaring past her at the prisoner, “Lia, daughter of Mei.”

Ah. So he could hear everything they were saying. Wonderful.

“Thank you, Qian,” she replied, before shuffling back into the tent. “Now, Lia, apparently your mother is Mei. Perhaps I should go and speak with her, tell her how poorly her daughter is acting.”

The woman scoffed. “That’s a threat for three-year-olds, not me. Besides, my mother is dead.”

Oh. That took some of the wind out of her sails. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“No, you’re not,” Lia growled. “If you cared about my family, you wouldn’t have fucking killed my brother!”

‘Ah. So that’s why she hates me.’ Juliette closed her eyes and felt yesterday’s guilt return. ‘Fuck, I can’t even be mad about that.’

“Oh, so now you go silent, huh!?” Lia snarled, making to get up before falling back down due to her bindings. “Fuck you!” she snapped from the floor, following that up with a much more colorful array of obscenities.

Juliette stopped paying attention to the other woman.

‘What should I do with her,’ she questioned herself. When she had first come in here, she had thought that it was just some sort of misplaced nationalism—that the would-be assassin was just pissed off that her home was conquered. But a dead family member…

‘This woman will hate me until the day I die.’ She sighed, coming to terms with that. The issue was what that could turn into. This woman needed to be punished somehow—otherwise, people might believe they could go against her whenever they pleased. And that wasn’t something she could tolerate, especially now.

This woman had tried to kill her. Frankly, if she had her executed, nobody would bat an eye. Hell, some of them might even think that would be too kind a punishment—she had seen the shit medieval kings did to their prisoners. It was fucked up.

But she didn’t want to kill this woman—Lia.

It wasn’t because she cared about her. The opposite, in fact—she was pretty sure she disliked her. Attempted murder would do that to a person.

But at the same time… a lot of people had died already. Fourteen people had died because of her decisions. One of them she had personally killed.

But that had been different. That was in the heat of battle—during a war, if something this small could be called that. That had been soldiers falling in battle. That was killing someone in the heat of the moment.

This wasn’t that. This would be premediated, cold-blooded murder. There were other ways—better ways—to punish criminals.

‘I’ve already won. Nobody else needs to die for a battle that’s already ended.’

“Qian,” she asked, stepping back out of the tent, the other woman’s curses following her out. “Is there any way to mark someone permanently? Preferably doing as little harm as possible.”

“Well,” the man hummed thoughtfully, “you could cut off one of her fingers. Or carve a brand across her face.”

“What about something that doesn’t include disfigurement,” she sighed back. “What about… is there a way to give people tattoos? Is that a thing here?”

The man raised a hand to his chin. She couldn’t help but wonder how the translation process worked—did he even know what a tattoo was? How did it work for things like that?

“I believe the Shaman of this tribe should be able to do so—at least, I know Lingfei back home could do it. Though it’s normally only used for channeling spirits, from what I know.”

“I see. In that case, when the next guard comes for his shift, I want you to go to the Shaman and have her come here. I want her to give Lia a tattoo—a large black diamond on her cheek. Then I want you to tell everyone that that mark is the mark of a criminal—of a murderer, and that anyone caught helping her will be branded the same. Then send Lia to… Meiling. I’ll be leaving Meiling behind to watch over this village, and Lia will be her personal assistant. Anything she needs done, Lia will do. And it will be up to Meiling to decide how to punish Lia if she acts out.”

The man had a rather… disappointed face. “Is that all? That doesn’t feel like much of a punishment.”

Juliette shrugged. “It’s not, truthfully. But she has lost her brother, and is grieving. And at the end of the day, she didn’t actually kill anyone. So long as she doesn’t try anything else, this will be the worst of her punishment.”

“And if she tries something?”

With a shrug, she began walking away. “Then that’ll be up to Meiling to decide,” she told him, dodging responsibility like a champ.

She took another step, before pausing. “Also, get her new bindings—she’s almost chewed through those ones.”

Qian’s eyes widened comically, before he dashed into the tent.

--

There had been many wounded after the battle, about twenty-six if her memory served. With all those injured people, they had needed a new place to rest and recover. So, her soldiers had helped her set up a makeshift infirmary at the edge of the village, reusing village tents to do so. After that they had put the local Shaman in charge, reasoning that she was the only one around that knew anything about medicine.

Well, Juliette probably technically knew more, but it wasn’t like they had any Tylenol or aspirin in the stone age.

Entering the complex, she found the old lady sitting around a fire, cooking a stew.

“You’re the local Shaman, correct?”

The old woman turned to look at her. “Aye, I am. Zhizhe Mai. And you’re the lady that calls herself ‘Queen?’”

The ‘Queen’ paused, thrown off. Nobody had ever said it like that before, and despite the words being completely benign, for some reason it sounded like she was being mocked. ‘Should I punish people who do that? Or is this one of those ‘freedom of the press’ things?’

She bit her cheek, forcing herself to stay focused. She wasn’t here for this woman. “I’d like to visit the man who can no longer walk. Wei was his name, I believe.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. Or, rather, her forehead shifted upwards. (She didn’t have any eyebrows). “What do you want with him? He’s been despondent ever since he woke up. I don’t blame him either, after what happened.”

This time Juliette somehow managed to hide her wince at the reminder. Which, hey, progress!

“I would like to speak with him, if he’s available. I have a proposition for him.”

The old woman squinted at her suspiciously. “…Hrm. Fine. He’s the third tent on the left. He’s alone—his previous roommate only had a broken arm and has already gone home. Just don’t hurt him more.”

Juliette scowled lightly. ‘I get it, I’m a bitch. Just stop being so passive aggressive about it. Also, who just leaves a depressed cripple alone? That sounds like a horrible idea.’ “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m not heartless.”

The old woman just grunted before turning back to her soup.

She made to leave, before pausing. “Also, one of my soldiers will be coming to speak to you later. Please don’t waste his time.”

“Oh? Am I in trouble?”

‘You certainly don’t sound too bothered by that.’ “No, he merely requires your assistance. Now, I’ll be off.”

Sure, she could have taken the time to ask if the old lady knew how to give people tattoos herself, but she didn’t really have a backup plan if that idea wasn’t possible, so she was procrastinating.

With that she walked up to Wei’s tent.

Raising a hand, she knocked on the tent pole. “Excuse me, Wei, are you decent? May I come in?”

There was a long pause, long enough for her to think he was asleep, before—“Who are you? I don’t know that voice!”

“I am Juliette, your new Queen,” she called back.

There was a swear, and a loud ‘THUNK,’ before he shouted back, “Erm, yes! Yes, you can come in!”

With his consent, she pushed aside the tent flap, entering. The inside was spartan—it was a temporary medical tent, after all. There was only a pile of furs on one side, where Wei was sitting.

The man had long shoulder length black hair, blatantly uncared for (at least recently) and two piercing blue eyes that looked at her with confusion and wariness. He actually looked like he had quite a bit of muscle, with the tanned skin of someone who spent a lot of time outside. His injuries were fairly obvious—he had a blanket covering his now-unusable legs, a blood-stained bandage wrapped around his right shoulder, and a scab covering the tip of his nose.

She forced herself not to react to the sight of his injuries. She planned to visit everyone before the end of the day, she had just decided to start with him because he was the worst off. If she got squeamish from this, she’d never be able to make it through the rest of them.

“You are Wei, correct? Son of Wei?”

“Uh, yes, uh…” the man trailed off, obviously unsure what to call her.

“’My Queen,’ is fine.”

“Uh, yes, my queen. Um, what exactly are you doing here? If I can ask that?”

“Relax,” she told him, which seemed to just make him more tense. “I’m only here with an offer. I’ve heard you can no longer walk?”

The man’s expression soured. “Ah. Yeah. I can’t. Why, you here to mock me? Tell me I’m a burden on the village!? That they should’ve just left me to die!?”

Juliette stepped back, eyes wide. “That’s awful! Who’s been saying that to you!?”

Wei seemed to run out of steam in an instant, slumping over the bed. “Nobody. They’ve all been nice and helpful but—I just know they’re thinking it! I hate it! I hate the looks they give me! It’s like I’m a helpless child all over again!”

‘Oh.’ “Tell me, Wei. Do you wish you had died?”

The man turned up to look at her with wide eyes, before closing them, letting out a hollow chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, I wish I did. I can’t hunt. I can’t fight. I can’t even walk. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life a cripple. I’d rather die than live like this.”

“But surely there are still things you can do. You still have your hands—you could weave clothing, for example.”

“But that’s woman’s work!” he yelped, sounding indignant.

‘Ah, sexism. For a moment I forgot that was a thing.’ “So you’d rather die than do woman’s work?” she asked archly, raising an eyebrow.

The man opened his mouth to argue, before shutting it. “Maybe. Everyone’ll mock me for it. Zhou definitely will—bastard’s hated me ever since Oriole chose me over him.”

She blinked. She hadn’t known that. “You have a wife?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Oriole. We’ve been together for—what, eleven winters now? Damn, time really flies, huh?” The man trailed off, seemingly lost in his own memories.

She let him stay like that for a bit, before coughing to remind him she was there.

“Ah, oh, right. What was it you wanted, uh, my queen?”

“I came to make an offer for you. I’ll be leaving soon, but next year I’ll be returning to check on everything. When I do, I’ll might be taking some people back to my own village. If you’re willing, I’d like you—and now your wife and family—to be some of them.”

“Eh?” the man stared up at her in shock. “Why me?”

“You’ve been hurt—grievously and permanently. And that was my fault. So, I want to make amends—I plan to introduce a writing system soon—it’s basically like recording words as rock or wood carvings. I plan to write a lot, and I’ll need someone to do it for me—someone with strong arms and not a lot of other responsibilities.”

The man blinked slowly. “You mean me? But—why me? Why not one of your own people?”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this offer?” she asked drily, chuckling at his panicked expression. “Don’t look so scared. And yes, I could have given the position to one of my own people. But I just told you—I hurt you, and now I’m making up for it. If you want, the position is yours. If not—I’m certain you could find something else to do.”

The man still looked hesitant. “Could you—could you give me some time, to think about it?”

“Of course,” she nodded to him. “I was planning to wait until next year, after all. It will take me time to create the writing system, and you’ll need more time to heal. So, you can have until I return next spring. After that, I’ll give it to someone else.”

“I, I see,” he nodded, before awkwardly bowing. “Thank you for this opportunity. And thank you for visiting—not many others have. It’s… nice to be able to talk. About—about what can be, rather than what happened.”

Juliette smiled back at him, pleased to finally be doing something good for once. “Think nothing of it. It’s the least I could do.”

--

Juliette hummed quietly as she made her way through the village, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Speaking to the injured had helped. Sure, more than a few had cursed her out, but she had expected that. It was the quiet, grateful looks that some of them gave her that caught her off guard and made her feel unexpectedly good.

That good feeling followed her as she made her way out of the village, towards the temporary campsite her soldiers had set up at the edge of the village.

There she found Meiling, sparring with one of the younger men, knocking him on his back. Meiling was an older woman, well into her forties. Her hair was getting more grey than black, and her face was weathered with age. Despite this, she moved with the grace of someone twenty years younger and spent most of her time beating the younger soldiers black and blue.

“Meiling, over here!” she called out.

The older woman looked over at her, a wide grin splitting her face. “Juli! I was wondering when you’d show up!”

Behind her the man who had been sparring with her jumped up and charged at her, a bellowing battle-cry leaving his lips.

Before Juliette could even shout a warning, the older woman spun around, knocking the training spear out of the man’s hand with a fluid swing, before sweeping his legs out from under him, once more sending him to the ground.

“Is that the best you can do!?” the woman barked out. “Only a moron wouldn’t hear you stomping about! If the Queen weren’t here I’d have you go out into the woods and stalk a hundred rabbits until you learned how to do a basic fucking sneak attack!”

Juliette let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Of course, Meiling was fine—there wasn’t a single person in the camp that could beat her. She supposed she was just worried. Meiling was one of the few people she could reasonably call a peer—whereas Qian was more a favored subordinate, Meiling had been leading her tribe before Juliette had arrived, and hadn’t been about to give her power up easily. Luckily, they had been able to come to an agreement—while Juliette was of course in charge, the older woman could veto any decisions she felt weren’t beneficial to the tribe and could even give her own orders as if she were chief, so long as those orders didn’t counter Juliette’s.

It was through that dual rulership that they managed to become peers, if not friends.

Which made what she was about to ask the woman difficult.

“If you’re done, could you come with me for a minute? I need to speak to you about something important.”

The older woman grunted. “Give me a minute to grab Qin. Can’t leave these dumbasses alone—they’d kill themselves with their own spears!”

A few minutes later the two of them were walking away from the camp, down towards the river.

“So, you had something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Yes,” Juliette nodded. “I’ve been worried about when we return home. I know I want to leave some people here, but I worry that they won’t be enough to handle the people should they turn violent.”

“Hrm. And so, you want me to stay behind and take charge? Alright, I’ll do it.”

Juliette nearly tripped over her feet. “Wha—that easily—I mean, thank you. That, uh, helps a lot.”

“Don’t act so surprised,” the older woman chuckled. “I figured you were gonna ask me about this the moment we won. After all, who else could do it?”

“Well, if you said no, I was going to ask Qian.”

Meiling gave her an incredulous look. “Juli, what have I been teaching you!? He’s your greatest supporter—you keep those people near you!”

“Eh? But I thought that you were supposed to give your supporters important positions, since you know they won’t turn on you?”

“That’s only after you’re well established,” the other woman scoffed. “You don’t have nearly that strong of a power-base to throw it away so easily.”

Juliette frowned, before widening her eyes. “Wait! I’m not throwing you away! I just need someone experienced that I can trust over here! I didn’t mean for you to take it like that!”

The older woman rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I can see you’re still a child. I know that, moron. But not everyone else does, so remember that. What you think is the right decision isn’t always what others think is the right decision.”

They stopped walking as they reached the riverbed. Juliette bit her lip, going quiet as they stood there. She took in the sight—the river was incredibly wide, with the other side just being a green blur to her. If she squinted, she swore she could almost see a big animal (a deer?) moving along the other bank. Insects were flying around, chirping as they tried to cling to her. Nature here was so much more present than it was back home. She’d been born and lived in Nantes, and the city life hadn’t prepared her for roughing it out here.

‘Should I name the river? Or do these people already have a name for it? I’ve got to name a bunch of stuff, huh.’

She mused on river names for a bit, unable to find one she liked. Eventually she just had to shake her head, moving on.

“Meiling?”

“Hrm?”

“Do you know why people are treating me different now?” It had been bothering her for a while. Qian hadn’t been the only person to change around her—most of her people, and even some of the new ones, had become much more… enthusiastic around her.

“Oh? I thought you knew. Then again, sometimes I forget how ignorant you can be.” Meiling fully turned to face her, looking her in the eyes. “You were brought to us by the gods. You turned up and conquered a new tribe within a week. Your beauty is alien, and your hair is made of gold. Then you got stabbed in the heart, and then shrugged it off as if it didn’t matter. And then, do you remember during your little speech? ‘So long as you uphold your oath, and your loyalty stays with me, I shall protect you, forever. This, I swear to the Gods, the Ancestors, and to Myself.’ You told them that you would rule forever, in the same breath as you equated yourself to the Gods and Ancestors. They aren’t just treating you differently—some of them have started worshiping you.”

“Worship!?” Juliette choked, her eyes going wide. “What do you—why would they worship me!?”

“Well,” she shrugged, “it’s not really worship. Not the same as the gods or ancestors. But most people here seem to see you as above them. And they don’t really know how to deal with those types other than to worship them. I’ve even got a few myself—they think my grandfather blessed me with supernatural strength, and that’s why I’m so powerful. Load of bull, though—only thing I remember of the old bastard was his insistence that women weren’t allowed to fight. Heh, shows what he knew.”

Juliette couldn’t do anything but stare at her in shock.

Meiling hummed, seeing that she was having trouble processing it. “Look, like it or not, it’s happening. And I think you should encourage it.”

That finally snapped her out of her shock. “Encourage it!? Why!?”

“I’ll be honest here—until you showed up, I didn’t believe in the gods. But I still pretended. The rest of our people do, after all. So, I put on a show, chose the signs that favored me over those that didn’t, and used the faith of the people to strengthen my own claim. I was in the same place as you, at one point—only half the tribe was originally mine, after all. But it worked, and it worked well. After all, what better tool is there to a Queen than the faith of her people?”

“That’s just—I—!” She had no idea what to think about this.

The older woman let her process that for a bit, the two once more falling into silence, the gushing of the river and the chirping of insects drowning out her thoughts.

“So, was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” Meiling asked eventually, looking ready to go back to her sparring.

‘Anything—? I’m not really—Oh, that’s right, I almost forgot!’ “Right!—uh, I mean, yes. I wanted to talk about seeing if we could figure out river travel.”

The older woman turned to face her again, this time in confusion. “River travel?”

“Hm. Yes, I had an idea to see if we could make boats—it’s a wooden platform that floats on the water.” At Meiling’s confused look she continued to try to explain. “It’s just—here, I’ll show you.” With that she reached over to one of the trees, snapping off a branch. Leaning as close to the river as possible, she softly let go, watching it float downriver before getting stuck in the mud. “Like that. If we could make that bigger—like say, out of a tree trunk, we might be able to more easily ship people and supplies between the villages.”

Meiling had a thoughtfully skeptical look on her face. “Right. I can see how that might work. But how would we control it? Unless you want to follow the current all the way downstream, that is.”

“We’d use paddles.”

“Paddles?”

“They’re like wooden poles—you could probably use branches or the like. We could sweep them back and forth to move.”

Meiling looked slightly less skeptical. “That may work, but why not try to figure that out yourself?”

“I’ll be working on this as well. But I figured we could both work on it—two heads is better than one, after all. Only one of us needs to figure it out, then we can share it with the other.”

“…alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll get someone working on this once things have settled down over here. Anything else?”

“No,” Juliette shook her head. “I just need to—that’s all I need from you right now.”

“Right, then I’m gonna head back,” Meiling shrugged trudging back up towards their camp.

Juliette merely hummed, lost in her own thoughts. What she had learned…

“Are they really worshiping me?” she asked, the words floating out across the river.

It felt wrong, for a number of reasons. She would never worship another human—though that might have been because she is—was?—an atheist. She vaguely remembered some humans throughout history had cults; Alexander the Great had one, she was pretty sure. But one for herself…

That felt like a step to far, even for her.

But she also didn’t know what to do to stop it.

Should she make another speech, telling them she’s not actually a god? Or whatever they thought she was? Or would that not work? What if they didn’t actually worship her, and Meiling was reading the room wrong? Would that make her seem like an arrogant asshole, thinking they were worshiping her?

‘Maybe I should just ignore it? Would it go away?’ It wasn’t like she was all that divine. She’d tripped on her own feet just this morning! If she just ignored it, surely they would eventually realize she wasn’t someone worth worshipping, right?

She bit her lip. This whole thing was another fucking issue that she didn’t know how to handle. There didn’t seem to be a right answer here. Or maybe there was, and she couldn’t see it.

She sighed, shaking her head. She needed more time to think on this.

--

But time waits for no woman, and soon enough, it was time for her to leave.

It was early in the morning, the sunrise bathing the village in orange and yellow. Most of the village was there to see her off (probably only mostly unwillingly). At the front was Meiling, standing tall and proud with a confident smirk on her face.

‘Hah, if only I could feel the same.’

“Take care of these—my people for me,” Juliette told the older woman, using her best ‘Queen’ voice. “I’ll be returning in a couple months to see how things are going.”

“Don’t worry so much, it pisses me off,” Meiling scoffed. “Trust me, by the time you return, these people will be singing your name. Now, why don’t we finish this ceremony, and you lot can get on your way. You’ve got a long journey after all.” With that, she pulled a dagger from her waist, slicing her fingertips. Then she flipped it over and handed it to her Queen.

Juliette took the knife, and with flourish sliced open her whole palm, only realizing afterward that was a horrible idea. She had to chomp down on her tongue to stop herself from crying out. “Then,” she replied shakily, “I’ll leave these—my people in your hands.”

With that, the two shook hands, their blood mixing and declaring them kin for all who were watching to see.

And with that, she left.

In the end, she had chosen ten soldiers to stay at the village, while she brought fifteen of the others back with her. It had been a bit of an issue choosing people—she had ended choosing based on people who didn’t have any lovers or children waiting for them back home, but who still had families that tied them back to her village. Even with that, she was still worried. There were too many variables, and she knew enough about history to know how easily rebellions could happen. She felt her skin crawl not knowing what was going to happen without her there.

Well, as worried as she was about it, she’d just have to have faith that her soldiers could handle this without her.

She had also grabbed as much of a tax as she was able to. Currently that was only weapons and some pelts, but she’d have to figure out a different system for next year.

‘What should I even tax them for? They don’t have any currency, so… food? But how much could I take before it becomes a problem?’

She shook her head. She’d figure this out next year. She had time. (Hopefully)

They wouldn’t be able to get back in one go—it was currently early morning, so they’d get about two-thirds of the way back by nightfall. They’d stay the night in the forest, and then return home to the village (which still needed a name) by noon the next day. They’d return victorious heroes, and she might finally be able to relax in her own bed for a bit.

Unfortunately, true victory was a long way off.

It was the middle of the afternoon of the second day when they were stopped.

Specifically, they were stopped by someone she had left back home.

“My Queen!” Shen gasped harshly, trying to bow but only managing to stumble.

“Easy, easy,” Juliette murmured, catching him. “Sit down. Qian! Get him a waterskin!”

“This—this can’t wait!” Shen gasped. “This is too important!”

“And you are obviously in no shape to tell me about it!” she snapped back. “Now, drink and calm down! Then you can tell me what’s wrong.”

Quieting down, the man obliged. A few minutes later, he had calmed down and was ready to speak.

“My Queen, I’m so sorry, but we failed you,” he bowed low, his face twisted in misery.

Juliette’s eyebrows rose in shock, and a feeling of dread overtook her. “What do you mean ‘you failed me?’ I don’t think I gave you anything you could have failed.”

“It is—I mean,” the man paused, before taking a deep breath. “The village was attacked yesterday. Raiders from the West charged into the village and began plundering! And we… we failed to stop them. They came with a King, who demanded we bring you to him! I fled—to warn you! Our home had been conquered!”

And, hearing all that, Juliette could only think one thing.

‘Fuck.’

9,996 God-Kings Remain