To Bewitch a Devil

220 Sea Vermin

If only she would let him explain before she went running off.

He instructed some guards to search for her and bring her to his library. The larger the space around Freya, the less incriminatory he would be the second time around.

When he got back to his chambers, Freya was already gone.

….

“The sea vermin is back!”

The fisherman’s eyes popped wild as he said it, looking at everyone in the throne room before his gaze returned to Neera. Neera didn’t suppress the yawn that escaped her, and she used a flick of her hand to signal for him to go on.

“I told Queen Jasmine about it,” the fisherman continued. Neera tuned him out, and she examined the paintings that hung in the room. Such dull tastes. There were only paintings of demons anyone barely gave any glance. She could busy herself by spicing the room to her taste.

“…and now, all the fishes are gone this time!” The man finished with the same exaggerated flair.

It was times like these that Neera wondered if she should have kept Jasmine for things like these. Who had the patience to be listening to the woes of the people?

.....

“Your Majesty?” The fisherman called her attention.

Why did she even talk Zavian into letting her handle this?

Oh, wait, yes, she needed to pass away time, even though she knew it was barely on her side. And then, there was the plot of gaining his trust as well.

“Your Majesty?” The fisherman called again.

“Have you ever used a bow and an arrow before?” Neera asked him.

“No, your Majesty. I am a fisherman, my expertise deals with water.”

Neera stopped examining the room and looked at him then.

“Are you telling me I don’t know what a fisherman does? Do you think that low of your Queen?” Neera asked.

“No, your Majesty,” the fisherman looked helplessly at the guards flanking either side of the Queen. “I would never dare. I didn’t mean…”

“Let’s see. Execution by slicing off the head and roasting it on a stick…,” Neera trailed off, tapping the side of her head in thought. “…or chopping off into small tiny pieces, or by stabbing. It should involve a knife though.”

The fisherman paled, and his knees gave way as he pressed his palms together in a plea to the Queen.

“Please, I didn’t mean any harm with my words.” He begged. “Please, your Majesty.”

“So many options..,” Neera continued musing, more to herself this time.

The fisherman’s voice quaked with more pleas, and only then did Neera take her eyes off a gigantic painting of the castle and spared the man an annoyed look.

“What are you begging me for? I was only referring to how you would kill your animals.” Neera said.

The man composed himself a little. “Your…your…Majesty?”

“You could use knives after setting traps for the wild animals,” Neera continued. “Chop them, roast them, a new trade would befit you since the sea…what did you call it?”

“Vermin..,your Maj…”

“Since that sea nonsense has put you out of business, find yourself a new trade,” Neera said. Then, to the guard, she instructed, “Send in the next person.”

“But your Majesty, what if the sea vermin is female and reproduces? There won’t be any fish left for anyone!” The fisherman said, his courage returning. Neera flicked her hand at the man, and soon, two guards were hoisting him out of the room.

Good riddance.

The doors opened, and an old man with a walking stick to support his trembling steps came in, and Neera found him slower than a snail.

“That’s it. I am done for today,” Neera reached her limit. “Have Freya handle this. I can’t deal with any more whining.”

As she walked away, she reached inside her gown, and fastened to her side with the catacomb of the ornamental ropes of her bodice was the small vial of sleeping potion she needed to give Zavian. It seemed like an easy task for her, but each time she wanted to get it done, there was always some interruption of some sort.

First, it was he took the cup of tea before her (has the death of chivalry begun already?) and sent her into the deepest slumber of her life, then at one lunch one of the maids had almost caught her, and then Zavian had been late for dinner the other night.

She was going to get another chance. Lunch would come in soon, and she was going to make sure that this time around, it would be a success.

At least the cloaked figure had stopped visiting her, a taste of the promise Lydia had made already set in motion. The coughs had subsided a bit but would seize her without warning, and shake her violently, erupting more blood as the days passed by.

She reached their chambers, and when she entered, she met Zavian already dressed like he was about to leave.

Angry, but masking it, she asked, “Going somewhere?”

Zavian looked at her, confusion marring his features. “I didn’t expect you to be done so fast. There weren’t many civilians?”

“I had Freya handle the rest. You didn’t answer my question, where are you going?”

“A little tour of the Kingdom,” Zavian said. He hesitated before he added, “I just have to check on some families.”

“What families?”

“The ones affected by the…strange disappearances.”

“So have them come to see you here,” Neera stepped up to him and looked him straight in the eyes. “You are the King, your word is theirs to command.”

“It doesn’t always work that way, and I lead, not rule,” Zavian corrected her. “They are the ones stuck between grief and hope, and it is a very terrible place to be, not knowing if to move on or to wait.”

“But then tell them to move on if that is the case. They should ease themselves by themselves. It shouldn’t be that hard,” she said.

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