Page 2 of The Horned King

Cheering sounds once more, the people before me giving me their blessing with whistles and shouts of praise. I can feel my cheeks pulling into a smile, unable to stop it. For just a moment, I let myself bask in the joy and hope surrounding me. With a final wave, I exit the podium and return to my seat beside Mich.

"Lovely speech," he tells me, though his tone sounds more like I hate you.

"Thank you, Mich. Yours as well. The people love you." I hate you more.

With that, the number of pleasantries we can feign for each other reaches its limit, and we sit in polite silence, listening to the other three officials entering their new roles give speeches.

When we've all said our piece, there's a banquet. Finally. I've been starving for hours. I couldn't eat before, or I would have thrown it up as soon as all those eyes were on me. Once we've been excused from the stage, I head straight for the bar. Public speaking nearly always pushes me to drink, and today, even more than usual.

I don't thrive in front of large crowds. They're overwhelming and suffocating. Small groups and individual conversations are where I really shine, which I suppose is perfect for the role they've given me. In a week's time, a representative from every nation on our continent will be meeting for the first time in centuries.

And we'll be doing it on territory that is technically enemy land. The reminder pushes me to take the sweet and sour drink all the way down, immediately reaching for another.

"Slow down, El, damn." Alya walks up behind me, "You did great up there."

I sigh, "Thanks. I thought I was going to puke half the time."

"I promise no one could tell." She places a hand on my shoulder, "Let's go get something to eat."

I nod and follow her silently. As we get to our table, waiters are ready to serve us, their hands already full of a beautiful medley of colorful vegetables and tender meat. The warm spice hits my nostrils, and I breathe out a sigh of relief at finally being able to eat.

As I take my seat and attempt to bite into the decadent meal before me, a voice halts me, "So it's really true that they're sending you to meet The Horned King?"

I place my fork back on the plate, severely mourning the bite I wanted to have. "Yes, it is true. We've been in communication with King Laichnek, and he seems very enthusiastic about the meeting. The hope is that we find a treaty that benefits everyone."

"Why should we care what benefits a man who killed for his position?" another woman asks. While the question was directed into the air above her and not at me, I feel the need to answer it anyway.

"King Rivchi also killed for the position. As did the king before him and the queen before him. It is simply the way things are done in Oksangui." I fight to keep my tone level, lest I show the impatience I have for their judgment, "For as long as anyone can remember, the transfer of power has been anything but peaceful."

The old woman counters, "Yes, well, that's what happens when you let the Zalig run everything."

"We have Zalig in our government, just as we have those without magical abilities," Alya reminds them. "Magic or not, good leaders are good leaders. Don't you agree?"

While the words may have been a question, the tone she used to ask leaves no room for an incorrect answer, so the old woman breathes out her frustration through her nose and primly answers, "Yes," just to end the uncomfortable conversation.

"Are you terrorizing my favorite ladies again, Alya?" Mich sidles up next to his twin, gifting the two older women in question a dazzling grin.

"I wouldn't think of it, Mich. We were having a lovely discussion, in fact. Weren't we?"

They trip over themselves to answer. "Just lovely," one of them says, and the other coos, "Your little sister is just wonderful. How lucky you are to have someone so spirited in your family."

Mich grins, his genuine affection for Alya blooming. "I am quite lucky to have her, yes. Though I believe she's even more lucky to have me as a big brother." The women fall into fits of giggles, fawning over the man before them.

Alya and I laugh, too. Though for different reasons. She may love her brother, but even she knows what an insufferable ass he can be. And I... well, I'd be just as happy never seeing him again. But we do what we must while in the public sphere, so he and I pretend we're old pals, and soon enough, we'll be over 1,000 miles away from each other.

"Remind me when you leave, Elva?" he asks, having the same thought process as me.

"First light tomorrow."

"So soon?" Alya's face drops. "You were just appointed."

I take a deep breath before answering, "Yes, but it's been in the works for weeks. The last month and a half of my internship was working with Tati to correspond with King Laichnek."

"King Kairon Laichnek." Mich whistles, "Already has quite the reputation. How many dead bodies has he sent back with his letters?"

"Four," I grit out. "But when we wrote that we would be happy to send a representative to discuss terms in person, he was more than willing to cooperate. From that point on, there have been no more... morbid messages."

Mich chuckles, bringing a drink to his lips. "Well, I'm just glad it's you and not me."

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