by A. M. Hudson
“Yes.”
“Do you really think I’m going to stuff all this up—you know, wreck everything you’ve built?” I asked delicately.
He rubbed his face with both hands. “No. I don’t. I just don’t want you to run in with guns blazing—trying to change every law you oppose, all at once. As you spend more time in the community of vampires, you will see, more clearly with each passing day, that there is good reason for everything we have done.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“That is all I ask.”
With the awkward first part of our conversation out of the way, I felt more comfortable to attempt a little probing. “So, you knew Drake pretty well, right?”
“Know him well, yes. He is a good friend.”
“But, you haven’t seen him—since the attack?”
“No. I’ve not even had word from him. I was told only that he was in Rome.”
“Does he know you’re here at the manor?”
“I don’t know. He would be aware I have taken my bi-annual leave, but he would not likely know where I have gone.”
“Won’t he think you should have stayed? You know, because of the whole Lilithian uprising and all.”
Arthur shook his head. “I have served my time. Friend to the king or not, I must take my leave.”
“Do you think he’s still alive? Like, after he was stabbed—do you think he survived it?”
“I would be certain of that.”
“How could he survive it, though—if it was my venom on the sword, how could he live?”
“There’s no saying it was your venom. It could have been a ruse.”
I nodded. “True.”
“Or, perhaps it may be that he is a very powerful being and cannot be killed. I have not only heard stories of his dark magic, but seen him use it.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Can I…can I ask what sort of magic you saw?” My eyes widened a little.
Arthur looked down at his open palm, as if he held something there. “I watched him turn a red rose black—suck the life from it—then restore in the same breath.”
“Wow. So, maybe he is evil? Maybe I should seek to destroy him?”
“What does your heart tell you?”
I thought about that for a second, trying to dislodge all the other voices in there that weren’t mine. “It tells me to negotiate with him—that he is capable of reason.”
“And what does your private council think of this?”
“Well, Mike thinks I’m young and naïve—that I just don’t have any idea what I’m talking about.” I looked down.
“Mike is young, himself.” Arthur smiled. “You are a bright girl, and I know you do not see good and evil in two dimensions.”
“No. I don’t. But, is that wrong?”
“No, Princess, it’s not. The world is so full of philosophy and opinion. And each individual has opposing concepts of harmony and peace. We all defend our beliefs, our perceptions of what is right or wrong—and it is impossible sometimes to know which side to take.”
“I know. It’s a grey area.”
“Yes. One may ask himself if he should follow the leader that shares the majority of advocates, or the one whom he agrees with himself. And that—” he grinned, leaning back on the swing, making it rock a little, “—even I have not answered to this day.”
“Hm, well, it’s a good question, Arthur. I guess, in the end, you just have to follow your heart.”
“Some do not have that luxury,” he said. “Humans, especially, follow tyrants sometimes out of force, often just fear, but, I believe, mostly…naivety.”
“I think most people know what’s right and wrong, Arthur. And in the end, we all always overthrow oppression.”
“How little you know of history for a girl whose own father is a professor in this field.” He sat forward a little. “What you need to ask is not whether we overthrow oppression, but who is the oppressor—who do we overthrow?”
“The bad guy.”
“How do you decide who is bad?”
I shrugged. “Guess it’s a matter of opinion.”
“And whose opinion counts?”
“Everyone’s.”
“But, not everyone agrees.” He turned in the seat to face me. “Take Hitler, for example; people followed him, convinced, as he was, that his madness was merely revolution.”
“Yes, but in time, they rose against him. Good did triumph.”
“Again, not that I feel this way, but how do you know that was the right course of action? And who decides?”
“We all decide, Arthur, because bringing pain and suffering to anyone, for any reason, is never right.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked up at him. “The world will not stop fighting for freedom and peace. That is what’s right, and tyranny is wrong. I will always take the path that leads to freedom for my people.”
“For your people—exactly. And what if the path to freedom would result, ultimately, in the sacrifice of many others? Would you be any better than your tyrannical predecessors for opting to walk it?”
“Well—”
“You see? How do you choose a side? What is right? What is wrong—and according to whom?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I frowned. “That’s all separate from me. I’ll find a way to bring the Three Worlds together—we can live in peace. I know we can, and I know I can do it without causing any suffering.”
“Except to kill those who oppose you.”
“Well, no.”
“Then what are you going to do? Imprison them? Set them free to start wars—cause more damage, more deaths?”
“Arthur…this is too much for me. I’m not ready to deal with this yet.”
“But you must, Princess. You are in a position of power and that brings with it the obligation of decision. You are in no way separate from this,” his voice softened. “In the coming weeks, you will be queen, and then, every action you take, every decision you tactlessly regard, will single-handedly affect the lives of many.”
“See? This is why I didn’t want to be the queen. I’ve got you telling me I need to make decisions, Mike telling me not to because I have no idea what I’m doing, and, inside, what I feel is right doesn’t match what everyone says is right. I’m just not ready for this.”
“But you have no choice.” Arthur spoke louder. “You will be queen, you will have to decide what is right or wrong, and sometimes, it will be between the lesser of two evils. Sometimes, there is no circumventing the unpleasant.”
“Why are you doing this, Arthur?” I swallowed the shaky lump of anguish his ruthlessness created. “What do you hope to achieve by making me feel even smaller, even more stupid than I already do.”
“I just want you to wake up, my lady, and ask yourself what you plan to do, and why.”
“I already know why—I just don’t know what.”
“No. You know what you hope to achieve—peace among all. But you do not ask yourself why that matters, or why you choose to care.”
“Why do I need to ask that?”
“Because the answer to the what should always come after the why.”
His words filtered through me, passing every channel of self-doubt, meeting with the stark blankness of confusion.
“You must have a motive behind everything you do, Amara. Freeing the prisoners, disbanding the Sets, negotiating with Drake—if you can’t find a good reason why you feel this necessary, then perhaps it is the wrong course of action.”
“So, you think I should kill Drake?”
“I think you should be sure about what you want to do, before you do it.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Arthur.”
“It is not my job to give opinion, my lady, only to help you find your own.”
I sighed. He is so exhausting. “How will I know when I’ve found it?”
“When you ask yourself why, and know the answer.”
&nb
sp; “Then I’ll never know which path to take. Because I don’t think I’ll ever approve of killing someone just because they oppose us.”
“Then ask yourself why.”
“Why what?”
“Why do you oppose death?”
“Because it’s wrong.”
He rubbed his brow. “I have seen many rise to power in my time—all of them with the best of intentions, and it is those philanthropic aspirations that ruin them. You can’t save everyone, Amara.”
“I—” I stopped and thought about what I wanted to say. Shut up and leave me alone seemed to be all that came to mind.
Arthur breathed out and tore his blue eyes away from my face as he brushed his hand through his windswept, carelessly messed hair. “You’re just a young girl,” he said softly, “And I do not mean to be harsh on you, but I do care; I care for you as a person and as ruler of a nation. I have lived many years, seen many political changes in the world. I know, from experience, that winning hearts can sustain dominance for only short periods. You will need cruel methods, possibly even death, to prevent opposition. And they will rise against you. I do not see vampires following wilfully, even when you capture Drake and imprison him.”
“Disbanding the Sets,” I said.
“What about it?”
“That should win hearts for a while.”
“It would.” He half laughed. “But it will see more problems than it will fix.”
I shrugged. “Probably, but, really, I don’t want to argue this topic, right now. I’m tired, and I didn’t come out here—” I motioned to the garden, “—for a political debate.”
“I’m so sorry, my dear. That was not my intention, either. But the things you say—your views and opinions—they give me great cause for concern.” He clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. “There will come a time where you must choose a side and defend it. There will be no negotiating some things, and I just don’t want to see you heartbroken when you’re forced to make a decision that will cost lives. And one day, Princess, you will have to.”
“Look—” I rolled my eyes behind his back. “I appreciate your concern, but I feel strongly about this. I won’t see the demise of vampires for Lilithians to live, and I won’t see the same in reverse. We live in united peace, and that’s all there is to it.”
“No, there is much, much more to it. When two sides oppose, they fight until one yields, and—”
“It doesn’t have to lead to war. No one has to die.”
“For one, war does not always involve death, my dear, but without death, very rarely sees one side surrender. You do not wish to kill or be harsh to enforce your reign, but you want to be respected enough to be followed. You can't buy peace with daisy chains, Amara.”
“Well, if we have to go to war to achieve peace, then I guess we’ll go to war.”
“So, now you approve killing to fight for your cause?”
“No. I don't know. Maybe—if I have to.”
He pressed his lips into a thin smile and looked to one side. “I’ve never known a girl who holds such strong values to be so easily led.”
My mouth dropped. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean…” He sighed heavily. “You disapprove of killing and violence, yet, if I were to forcefully disagree, convince you it was necessary, you would acquiesce—despite what you felt was the right course of action.”
I looked down at my hands. “I'm just trying to get this right.”
“Then follow your heart, Amara. Do not allow yourself to be controlled by others’ opinions. I can see you clearly have a great amount of respect for me, and while this is not only sweet but very flattering, it’s also dangerous. Your council has warned you that I may be a traitor, yet you take my word as vow.”
“I can't help it, Arthur. I just don't think you're the bad guy.”
He smiled warmly. “Well, that leads me back to the point I was trying to make in the beginning; not that you must either kill or not kill, but to be sure it is what you believe to be right.”
“And what if I'm wrong?”
“Then you make a mistake—and you learn from it.”
“Hang on, if I'm queen, aren't I supposed to behead my advisor when things go wrong?” I smirked at him.
“Well,” Arthur said in a light, laughing tone, “if that’s the way Her Majesty demonstrates strength and governance, then I say, behead me.”
I laughed. “Aside from the fact that it’s impossible to behead a vampire, you know I wouldn’t really do that, right?”
Arthur nodded. “That, my dear, is what worries me.”
Chapter Three
I quickly learned that Lilithians and vampires shared one common ground; they liked their traditions and formalities. Everyone at the dining table had remained upstanding until I was seated. I felt ridiculous dressing formally for dinner as it was, but having someone push my chair in, bow at me and then motion everyone else to sit, made me just want to hide my face in my hand and laugh at them all.
The seat mirroring mine was the only empty one at the table; a place the king would sit when he returned, or, according to my people, when I took a new husband. The knowledge that my David should be sitting there, fourteen seats down from me, so far away but closer than he was now, made that chair seem like a vortex, ready to suck my composure up with one breath. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.
“What’s up, baby?” Mike whispered, leaning closer.
“I’m okay. Just a bit of a headache.”
“Don’t worry,” Morgaine said from the seat on my left. “Dinner will end soon enough, then we’ll all leave you alone for the next twelve hours. Sound good?”
I smiled at her and leaned back in my chair. Down the other end of the table, too far away to yell hello to, Eric sent me a warm smile. Arthur looked up at him, following the direction of his eyes, then leaned in and whispered something that made Eric look away.
“Morg?”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve got better hearing than I do. What did Arthur just say to Eric?”
She looked over at Arthur, who smiled across at us, obviously having heard what I just said.
“He just told him to remember that, in official gatherings, you are a queen, not his friend.”
“Don’t listen to him, Eric,” I said quietly, knowing he’d hear me over the noisy dinner chatter; he smirked into his plate. I shot Arthur a narrowed glare to which he returned a warm smile.
“We may be worrying for no reason.” My ears tuned in to the portly woman who speaks her mind when no one asks. “Drake may already be dead.”
“But what if it were a ploy—a theatrical diversion?” said Moustache Man. “He may be very much alive and waiting for us to drop our guard.”
It seemed Arthur and I weren’t the only ones with these theories.
“Yes, from what I hear, Lilithian venom is not enough to kill him. He has black magic spells that keep him safe.”
“Hm, an immunity spell?” I grinned, looking at Mike, who kicked my foot under the table.
“Yes. If only we could get hold of that spell,” Morgaine said. “We Lilithians could feed off vampires without risk of hurting them from our bite.”
“Yes. Perhaps we should put a team together to start working on that,” I added, offering Mike a wry smile; he was not impressed.
“I agree,” Morgaine added, stirring the pot of Mike’s irritation. “We should start work on it right away.”
“It’s a waste of resources,” Mike said, glaring at her. “Maybe after we catch Drake.”
“Why do we need to catch him?” asked a face I hadn’t seen before. “Why not just go in there now and kill him?”
“Because we don’t know where he is,” someone else said.
“And we can’t kill him, right?” I said, looking at Mike. “Isn’t it only this prophecy child that can?”
“That’s not true,” Eric said. “The prophecy says your child will be the one to
do it, not that you or any other vampire can’t.”
“This may be correct,” said a man beside Eric. “But we must not mess with the will of Fate.”
“Here, here.” Another man nodded. “Bad things happen when you meddle in things that already have an order.”
“Bad things happen when old vampires get superstitious, like a human, and start using those superstitions to make political decisions,” a Lilithian said.
A couple of arguments broke out across the table; I looked at Arthur, who seemed to be staying out of this one. And I realised then that the table had been divided; to my left side were all the vampires and to my right were Lilithians. I wondered why they were seated that way—if it was deliberate. The only exception to that seating arrangement was Morgaine’s. It seemed kind of fitting that she was seated on the vampires’ side, given that she’d bedded with Drake. I gagged on my rice for a second, feeling the pinch of vomit rising up my oesophagus.
“Look,” Mike said loudly, raising both hands to end the arguments. “The fact is, we need to catch Drake, and it needs to be soon.”
“No,” I said. “We actually just need to gain control over all the Sets. All we’re trying to achieve is the enforcement of the new rules so we can have peace between Lilithians and vampires.”
“Peace? We should be imprisoning the vampires—killing them all,” one woman said.
“I concur,” a man on the Lilithian side added. “Rid the world of their kind.”
“And what would we eat, then?” I asked.
“Keep some. Farm them. Store them.”
The vampires rose up in arms, voices reaching across the table, barely holding back violence.
“There are to be no more prisoners,” I said loudly; everyone stopped—to my amazement. This queen thing was suddenly growing on me. “I will enforce equal rights for both vampires and Lilithians alike.”
“While Drake is still breathing, that will never come to par.” With that statement, the two species broke into heated conversations again—their food untouched.
“If Drake wants to live in united peace, he can remain on the throne,” I said in a calm, quiet voice, refusing to enter this shouting contest. “Maybe we can rule together.”
