Chapter 4: - City of Lies

  “Two weeks now, it’s been two weeks and you still haven’t managed to land a single hit on your opponent,” Volkov the Bastard said, as if merely reading a report.

  Two weeks, two fucking weeks of having his meals stolen by the man who murdered his parents.

  Exia was on the ground, where he always ended up in the mornings now. His body ached from bruises where the gorilla-man had struck him, and his world had only just stopped spinning.

  The sound of Volkov's receding footeps on marbled floors told him he was leaving. Probably to attend the affairs of state—in his power grab he’d become one of the twin Consul rulers, and was often busy trying to keep the kingdom that he and his friends destabilised from coming apart.

  Exia picked up on this because he had the mind of a royal of course, but also because the man did well to remind him any time he was displeased in class of ‘the importance of his work, and how much of it is being sacrificed by being here and teaching an insolent brat.’

  Exia didn’t care. The whole thing would come apart soon enough—that was what happened when the unchosen coveted power. Zcigmagus would return the natural order of things in time just as he would if the kingdom were overrun by monkeys.

  But that won’t bring back Mother and Father.

  There was a hollowness at the realisation. He felt tears threaten to spill past the edges of his eyes, and killed them. He was a man, and men did not cry. Father never cried, even up till the end.

  Exia got to his feet and, much to his displeasure, Captain Morozova was still in the garden. He was an ugly man, with a face that made women cry and babies die. But Exia was half-certain he was simple, too.

  He’d never uttered a single word in his presence. Father once told him a horror story about a soldier who had a bullet lodged in his brain—survived, but since that day, couldn’t stop wanking off for more than an hour.

  All things considered, Exia figured the gorilla man had it rather good.

  “Can you fuck off already!” Exia roared.

  The man’s eyes narrowed in a glare and Exia winced, bracing himself for an attack he knew he would have no hope of weathering.

  The man didn’t hit him, however. He simply turned and left.

  Exia let out a breath he didn’t know he was still holding. Of course, outside of Volkov’s orders he can’t touch me. No one could, because he was the Prince. No, you’re the King.

  And he should start behaving like one.

  Would Father allow another man, let alone a lowborn pig, refuse him what was rightfully his? No he wouldn’t. Father would take it by any means necessary.

  It was humiliating to be denied food, and that was why Volkov did it. To humiliate him. To humiliate the crown.

  I will not be humiliated.

  The usurper would be in his meetings now; that only left the servants and soldiers out and about in the palace. He knew where the kitchen was, knew that there'd be food there even if it might be cold.

  He could go in and steal it. It wouldn’t actually even be stealing—it was his after all.

  The guards patrolling would be the issue. Exia had already memorised their patterns when he was considering running away, before dismissing that idea as the thought of a coward.

  Ordinarily, he wouldn’t be able to make it in and out of the kitchen without being seen.

  Exia looked to his gloved hands and grinned. Good thing I’m not ordinary then, the King thought.

  ###

  Sasha stepped out of the carriage to meet a scene that made her head spin. Five Military Mages—guards of the Governor, of course—stood between the gates and King Exia. They glared at the King with intent to kill. “State your name and purpose, Mage!” One demanded harshly.

  The King turned to Sasha, grinning ear to ear. “Captain, captain!” He ushered her towards him with a beckoning hand. “You have to see this. These men yes—” He said, pointing at the soldiers, “—are under the illusion that they could possibly harm me.”

  “Name and purpose or we will use force!” The soldier repeated and Sasha could see the beginning of a flame start in his palms.

  “Oh, that’s adorable!” the King laughed.

  Sasha hurriedly stepped in between the pair before things could get worse. “Mage Captain Sasha Osin, here to see the Governor!” She called out quickly, waving her identification in their faces.

  The oldest man—the one who had been shouting out orders to the King—frowned at the card, looked at her as if to confirm that yes she did in fact have a vagina and tits, and then nodded as if finally accepting that said facts did not nullify her ranking. “Captain,” He grumbled finally, saluting her.

  The other Mages hesitated only for a moment before doing the same.

  “The Governor has been expecting you, yes,” He confirmed, then added. “B-but who is the colourful fellow behind you?” He asked, glaring at Exia as if he were a Voin soldier.

  It was Sasha's turn to hesitate. “King Exia Vanfoster of the Bessmertnyy Republic.”

  If the man’s eyes widened any further, she was sure they’d have fallen out of their sockets. Per orders from the Republic, pictures of the King in Bessmertnyy textbooks were all those of him as a child, so no one actually knew what the adult King Exia truly looked like.

  Fewer still knew that he operated as an assassin of the state.

  Soon enough the man composed himself and nodded. “I- I see.” He turned to his men. “Open the gates for our guests,” he ordered, and the soldiers were seeing to that quickly enough. He turned back to Sasha. “Step right through, Captain. The servants will guide you the rest of the way once you’re in,”

  “Thank you.” She nodded and began walking with the King. Whispers erupted in their wake, ones of surprise, treachery, shock, and more.

  Sasha turned her mind to more pressing issues, particularly the one pressing issue that was walking right beside her.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “You’re glaring at me, Captain,” the King noted, eyebrow raised as if fascinated by the expression.

  “You nearly caused a shit storm back there,” She snapped, hearing the sharpness of her own words.

  The King merely chuckled. “A shit storm? That’s a rather over exaggerated and crass way to put it. It was a mild drizzle of diarrhoea at worst.”

  “Your Grace,” She pressed, feeling her last nerve near the brink of explosion.

  He huffed. “Very well, very well—I won’t antagonise a group of low Magnitude Mages outside the home of an ally in such a manner as to nearly cause an exchange of Magical might which, though I would inevitably emerged from unscathed, would endanger the lives of said soldiers that felt urged out of a sense of duty to their state to attack me in the first place, and would damage potential relations with said ally.”

  Sasha bit down on her jaw and said nothing more. She turned her eyes to the scenery. The avenue of the estate had a garden on either side of it. They were dotted with trees, statues and exotic flightless birds.

  The building itself was a grand thing, half the size of the King’s castle at the very least and dotted with opulence—be it the bright oak doors or the beautiful stained glass.

  It made everything else in the city look drab in comparison, and by a mile at that. Seems more fitting for a Duke than a Governor. Sasha found it hard to imagine the homes of the nobles ever looking grander than the structure before her. Especially since a great many governors had long since acquired those very homes for themselves.

  The King walked up the great oak doors and pushed them apart as if walking into his living room. They were in a hallway filled with servants who had been tending to their jobs and now were wondering who the strange man in their master’s home was.

  Sasha was quick to pull out her identification and make eye contact with the person that looked the most in charge. Today that was a particularly fat woman. “Good day, I’m Captain Sasha Osin. This is King Exia Vanfoster, we’d like to see the Governor if that’s possible.”

  A great many stares were sent Exia’s way, all of which he seemed perfectly comfortable being the subject of. He was busying himself inspecting a random vase to the side, which, all things considered, was rather good for Sasha as it meant he wasn’t antagonising people.

  The servants were still staring at the King, however, and Sasha had to clear her throat. “The Governor, please.”

  “Oh, yes of course, pardon me madam. I’ll lead the way,” the woman said, turned and began heading down the hallway.

  There was some relief in not being gawked at like a freakshow curiosity for the mere fact of being a Military Mage without a pair of testicles between the legs.

  Sasha reckoned that was because she was overshadowed by the curiosity that was the King Exia. Bessmertnians didn’t exactly know what to do with Kings. Many of them—no, most in fact, had lived under the rule of the Treasonous King, and while his death and the subsequent rule of the Republic had made things better for the average citizen, this was not the paradise they had been promised when they were called to arms.

  The nobility had been deposed, yes, but in their place had risen the merchant class, the bureaucrats, and military elites. The people had replaced one ruling caste with another, and while the royals at least had the sanction of the gods in the people and the church's eye, the only thing that inherently qualified the republic to dictate the course of the people’s lives was their might.

  It did not help that they lived in a continent surrounded by royal kingdoms, not very few of which were related to the Vanfoster line. And many of which did not approve of the military murdering their cousins, aunts and uncles.

  According to them it was a crime against the gods, fae, and man, and it was a matter of selfless righteousness that they had to decry the actions of the republic publicly and loudly. And it of course certainly had nothing to do with the fact that they were terrified of ending up crownless, headless, or facing down a firing squad of their own. That was the trouble with rebellion, it tended to spread. Sasha would know. She’d put down a few.

  “The Governor is right through this door,” the woman said, yanking Sasha out of her thoughts.

  She stepped in before the King could, not wanting to take any chances, and found herself in a library the size of a ballroom.

  The air was sweet with the scent of wood and melted candles.

  In the centre was the Governor. He bore a resemblance to his statue, except less impressive in every single way. Fatter, older, and smaller. Though Sasha supposed he was blameless for two of those three points. Though less heroic than his statue, he did, however, have more badges, having risen in rank and accomplishments since its construction.

  There was a warm smile on the Governor's face, and she waited for it to drop when the King followed behind her. To her relief, it did not. “King Exia. Captain Sasha Osin.” He greeted, giving the royal first recognition as would be appropriate. Technically the King still came first in recognition above all other stations, including the Generals and Consuls. It was, Sasha understood, one of the ways in which apoplecsy had been avoided among the surviving nobility and senior clergymen.

  “Governor Danilevsky.” Sasha greeted, saluting the man. “I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to see us.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “There is a problem in my city, who am I to refuse help?”

  The King was silent, and thankfully so. That allowed Sasha to focus on what was important while they had the attention of the most powerful man in the Governorate. “Speaking of which, we’d appreciate any assistance while we root out the problem.”

  The Governor sighed. “I’ll give you as much help as I did the missing Captain. I can only hope it’s enough to bring the perpetrators to justice this time.”

  “I appreciate that, Governor.” Sasha nodded, feeling a stab in her chest. “Are you aware of Captain Morozova’s last known location?”

  The King walked between them, silent as a cat and plucked a book from a shelf. He opened it, flipped through a few pages and lazily tossed it over his shoulder.

  The Governor hesitated, but thankfully had chosen to politely ignore the man. “I… I believe he had been chasing a lead of sorts, sadly the Captain didn’t carry me along with all the details of his investigations. While I was a bit miffed, I would be a fool not to at least understand the chain of command when it comes to matters like these.”

  The King plucked another book, flipped through the pages and tossed it. He followed this action with a long groaning sigh.

  Sasha tried not to glare at the back of his head. She pulled her gaze back to the Governor whose face was contorted in a rising rage. “And what do you think of the theory that these may be copycat killings?”

  “Oh, they are, they very, very much are–-” The Governor began, and it was then that Exia deemed it fit to interrupt the man.

  “No pictures.” He whined with the cadence of a child who had been refused candy.

  This prompted the Governor to actually turn to face the royal, and that made Sasha’s stomach drop. “Excuse me?” He said, face clearly trying to maintain a fading calm. Sasha could see malice there, deep, old, layered.

  Exia might as well have been speaking to a puppy for how little he seemed to recognise it. If anything he just seemed more annoyed. “You have a library filled with books but not a single one of them has any pictures in them, do you not see the problem with that?” He asked and chuckled incredulously, as if it was the Governor who was somehow acting unreasonable. “Are you stupid? I mean, it’s okay if you are—most people actually are incredibly thick in the head. I’m just asking because it’d let me know how best to communicate with you—I am quite fluent in simian grunting noises you see.”

  Danilevsky’s head did not explode, and as far as Sasha was concerned, with what the King had just said, that was about as good a reaction as she could pray for. With how hard the Governor clenched his teeth, however, Sasha was worried he might bite straight through his own jaw.

  Remarkably though, he didn’t say a word. Instead the Governor just glared at the royal as if intending on setting him ablaze with the heat of his glare.

  Sasha took a more proactive course of action.

  She grabbed the King by the arm and dragged him out of the library.

  “Ow, ow, ow, ow.” He whined but Sasha did not let go, if anything the sound of his pain only inspired her to squeeze harder.

  She slammed the door behind them once they were out.

  “What in the bloody hell was that f—?” King Exia began but Sasha stepped on his words with the decisiveness of a hunter slitting a kill’s throat open.

  “What in the three heavens is wrong with you?!” She growled.

  “What’s wrong with me?” He asked, having the gall to sound completely aghast. “What’s wrong with him?” He demanded, pointing a thumb at the door behind him, separating them and the fuming Governor.

  “Wh-what, what, what the fuck are you on about?” Sasha found the words scurrying away from her mind.

  King Exia groaned in what Sasha could only imagine was frustration. She could not fathom why he thought he had earned the right to such a reaction, however. “He’s too calm, far, far too calm.”

  “Too calm?” She repeated with the last shreds of her own calm, giving him a single chance to retract his words.

  “Yes, don’t you see it’s–-”

  “Leave.” She growled, words sounding tight and soft.

  “But captain-”

  “Leave!” She cut off his whining with a roar. “Leave, and don’t come back until I find you myself.”

  That it seemed as finally enough to get through to him. The King’s face dropped, he turned his back and disappeared down the corridor.