tyrant chapter 5

Fiogen stifled a yawn, sitting sullenly in the prince’s bedchamber. She’d thought the arms she’d fallen asleep in last night belonged to a god, but they were Karta Helseiro’s. That in itself was a considerable shock. 

“So, this isn’t the afterlife, it’s just… the Empire? Right?” 

The attending handmaidens nodded, focused on her words. While the Empire and the Kingdom shared a common language, subtle regional variations in pronunciation existed, much like dialects.

Irritation pricked at Fiogen. She’d had similar thoughts while working at the fish market. If I’m going to be caught, let it be by a massive shark, a quick end. Why be caught by humans, suffering for so long before dying? Now she was in precisely that situation. Caught by a tyrant, destined to be tormented for his amusement until her death.

“How shall we prepare your morning meal?” It was rather late for a morning meal; she’d slept the entire night and now the sun blazed high in the sky. Either way, Fiogen had failed. The damned tyrant hadn’t killed her. She hadn’t been waiting for him to dine with her. She’d needed to be drugged, to ensure a swift, painless end.

“No meal. Has anyone seen a vial… a jeweled vial… I had with me?” The handmaidens exchanged glances before shaking their heads. Understandably so. His Highness had carried her in and gone straight to bed with her; they’d all been scrambling to escape the scene. “We haven’t seen it.”

“A pity. It was precious to me.” Her genuine distress caused the handmaidens to glance at her with a flicker of concern. Prince Karta was a hero of the Empire, but also a fearsome figure. If he intimidated even the Empire’s own citizens, how much more terrifying must he be to a princess from a fallen kingdom? The thought barely required consideration.

“If you describe the jeweled vial, we can procure it for you. The Empire has goods from many nations.” Fiogen shook her head. It wasn’t the jeweled vial she needed, but the potion within. Perhaps, once drugged, she could goad Karta into killing her quickly. Facing death sober was… unsettling.

“Are potions traded in the Empire?” The handmaidens’ faces fell. Prince Karta was surprisingly observant of laws and regulations. While other nobles squandered their gold, he trained. Unlike the aristocracy, who hoarded everything in sight, he maintained strict control. Rumor had it that Karta’s mother, Empress Sirenzel, had died by suicide from potion addiction.

“P-potions?” Fiogen frowned at their trembling, as though the word itself was a crime. It drove home the reality that she was no longer in the Kingdom. The Kingdom, small and insecure, was a place where everyone used potions. Not narcotic potions, of course. In the terms of her previous life, they were more akin to hookah. Unlike the dark backdrop of this fictional world, the Empire seemed remarkably wholesome.

“So, potions are out. What about… something to burn?” She’d assumed a tyrant’s empire would be littered with potion vials. But even this room, the tyrant’s own bedchamber, was more stuffy and grand than debauched. In any case, facing imminent death, Fiogen figured a little crime wouldn’t matter. Unfortunately, having been abruptly kidnapped from the Kingdom, she was penniless. All she could do was look at the handmaidens with pleading eyes.

“Ahem. That… might be possible.” One handmaiden finally choked out. A glimmer of hope lit Fiogen’s face, and another, with trembling hands, offered her an incense stick.

“Incense?”

“In the Empire, ‘to burn’ usually refers to incense. Is that… not what you were looking for?” The handmaiden’s hesitant tone narrowed Fiogen’s eyes.

“If you’re hiding something, tell me. Misunderstandings can get out of hand.” She meant it. A lifetime of odd jobs had made her keenly aware of unspoken cues. She’d hoped to leave behind needless paranoia with her past life.

“Actually… it’s something His Highness detests…” The handmaiden trailed off, and Fiogen’s eyebrow twitched. A delightful plan sprang to mind. If she focused on things Karta hated, she wouldn’t have to live in constant fear.

“Then give me more. Enough to fill this entire room with the scent!” The handmaidens took her for a foolish, fearless princess. Even the Emperor and Crown Prince were wary of Karta. To the Empire, he was both a source of pride and fear. Prone to fits of rage, he was not unlike a tyrant. No one had ever deliberately provoked his wrath.

“It would be best not to antagonize His Highness.” If the Emperor’s gaze was icy, Karta’s was icy and sharp as an icicle. He was liable to draw his sword at any moment. But Fiogen’s eyes blazed like fire, unafraid of any icicle.

“If I have to face the consequences of antagonizing him, I will. Just… don’t take sides.” She laughed, bold and cheerful, as if she had a spare life. The handmaidens found her both worrying and strangely captivating.