Lord Rokkan’s Private Toy

by Hutchins, Hollie

  “Have you guys been eating out a lot?” Megan asked her parents.

  “Two, maybe three nights a week,” said Cal. “We figure why not? We have the money now.”

  “We might as well get the good food while it’s here,” Iris added. “Before it’s gone.”

  “What do you mean before it’s gone?” Amara asked. “Have you heard something?” She looked at Megan worriedly.

  Megan elbowed her gently, indicating that she should stop talking.

  “Oh you always hear things,” said Cal. “Doesn’t mean any of it’s true. Now c’mon. “He walked towards the line. “I’m hungry!”

  Ollie arrived a few minutes later, just as the rest of the family was approaching the front of the line. He touched Megan on the shoulder and went in for a hug. “Heya’ sis. How’s it going?”

  “You’re in a chipper mood,” said Megan, hugging him back. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Oh nothing…” He smiled, gleefully, and winked. “Except, of course, that I’m in love.”

  “What?” said Megan.

  “Not this again,” Iris said. She rolled her eyes. “Your brother here has been talking about this Rikkel woman all week. I can’t hear another word about how her periwinkle skin is more beautiful than the night sky, or how she radiates grace and smells like morning dew.”

  Megan started to laugh and gaped at her brother. “Who knew you were such the romantic?” She asked. “Where is this woman? I want to meet her.”

  Ollie rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the ground, where he was absentmindedly kicking dirt around. “Well, uh, we’re not exactly seeing each other. Not yet anyway. I’m planning on asking her out soon, though. When the moment’s right.”

  “He’s failing to mention one very important issue,” said Iris. “Rikkel is a draak.”

  “So?” Megan said, forgetting, for a moment, who she was talking to. “I mean,” she quickly tried to recover. “Does she like you back?”

  Ollie’s shoulders scrunched up around his ears. “Not sure. I think so, or at least, I hope so. We’ve only talked one time, but it was a great conversation. Good flow.”

  “That’s a start,” said Amara.

  The person in front of them finished getting her meal and the person working at the station called for the next order. Ollie, being the only person in the group who had eaten there before, stepped ahead of everyone and ordered five of the same dish.

  Amara, Megan, and Cal all pulled some coins from their respective pockets and purses and handed the lot over to Ollie. He added some of his own money and paid the cook.

  “Step aside, please,” said the man. “So I can take the next order.”

  The Zandles, plus Amara, walked to the left of the station, where some outdoor tables were set up. They found an empty one and sat. Not a minute later, another man working at the station called Ollie’s name, who promptly stood up with Cal and the two went to collect the food.

  “Careful,” Ollie said, setting a bowl down in front of Amara. “It’s spicy.”

  The dish was beef based. There were fresh black beans in it as well, onions, and garlic. It was like a sloppy, greasy dish the wolves used to serve, but much better. The spices used were unlike any Megan had ever tasted before, and just as Ollie had warned, they were very hot. The group was quiet, as they ate; the only sounds were that of spoons scraping the bottom of bowls and a few satisfied “mmm”s.

  Once finished, Megan decided it was time to bring up the topic of unrest. Hopefully, now that everyone was full and content, her family would be more willing to discuss the rumors they’ve heard.

  “So,” she began. “Ollie, have you heard anything about a possible shift in power again? Maybe your draak girlfriend has told you something?”

  “All I ever hear at work is talk of a wolf uprising,” he said. “But that’s all it is; talk.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Pretty sure,” he continued. “The wolves are nowhere near strong enough to rise up right now. Not very many of them survived the draak’s attack and those who did are being held in the castle’s dungeon, starving and out of touch.”

  “I’ve heard the dungeons are places of nightmares,” said Cal. “They used to threaten to throw us in there when we didn’t finish our work in a timely matter. Supposedly, there isn’t any heat in the basement so they are cold as ice and dripping wet because of all the leaky pipes.”

  “They really aren’t that bad,” said Megan. Everyone looked at her, confused and waiting for further explanation. “I saw them once, on a tour through the castle. They give all new employees a tour.”

  “I never got a tour,” Cal grumbled.

  “Anyway,” said Megan. “I heard from someone in the castle that there might be wolves coming from other districts.”

  “That’s nonsense,” said Iris. “It’s against District United policy for people’s of other districts to get involved politically in the happenings of other districts.”

  “But isn’t that exactly what the draaks have been doing,” said Amara.

  “Yes, but they are different,” said Cal. “The draaks never signed any of the agreements or treaties set forth when the districts were first established. They took their own piece of land outside of everything and declared themselves an independent state. That’s why they still have a monarchy. Recently, they started referring to it as District Eleven and demanding the same rights and recognition as the other ten districts. When the Council of United Districts refused, that’s when the draaks started their colonization.”

  Now, everyone was staring wide-eyed at Cal. He smiled at them and, in way of an explanation, simply said, “You learn a lot working at the farm. Most of the farmers are older, they’ve been around since before the war. This one guy is pushing ninety-eight and he still works, mucking the stalls, every day. He told me all this.”

  “If that’s all true,” said Megan. “Then if the wolves do make a move, they would be breaking the law.”

  “Which would create a whole new slew of problems,” Ollie added.

  “Or start the second war,” Amara suggested. Nobody said anything, in agreement or in opposition.

  The rest of the night went by quickly and without much in the way of conversation. Everyone seemed very tired, physically and mentally, and when Megan said that her and Amara would head back to the castle and sleep there, there was obvious relief on her parents’ faces. They both would have been welcome, obviously, to spend the night in the apartment, cramped and uncomfortable, but really Megan could see no benefit in that.

  Besides, she had work the next day. And, although she didn’t tell anyone about this, she had plans the following morning. She was going to find the prince, and she was going to have a meeting with him, whether he wanted to see her or not.

  * * *

  She set her alarm for five am, which she knew was probably overkill, but she wanted to make sure she caught the prince at a time he wasn’t expecting company. She figured he’d be mad at first, being woken up so early and so rudely, but he’d thank her eventually. He needed to know what the wolves were planning. If he didn’t prepare for a fight, a lot of innocent people could get hurt, including her family. District One was at the epicenter of what seemed to be a political shit storm, and she was tired of her people falling victim to a system they didn’t even want to be a part of in the first place.

  At least, that was what Megan had been telling herself for the last twelve hours since she decided to seek him out.

  What she wasn’t telling herself, although it was also true, was that she was genuinely worried about Rokkan’s safety. She didn’t care so much about him losing his position as leader of District One, in fact, she thought it might even be good for him to be knocked down a peg or two, but the wolves would be looking for more than just the keys to District One. They’ll be out for revenge, for blood, and if, or rather when, they attack, Rokkan’s blood will be the first to spill.

  She hesitated outside his
door, wondering whether or not she should knock. The screen on the lock keypad shined green, like it always did, telling her the door was open, which she took as a sign she should just let herself in.

  Which, she did.

  She pushed the door handle slowly and as quietly as possible, then, remembering that she was going to wake the prince anyway, went on about her business without caution. The door shut with a loud click behind her and she went straight for the lump underneath the bed covers.

  “Hey,” she said, reaching out a hand and gently shaking the lump. “Wake up. It’s Megan. I need to talk to you.” A soft groan came from underneath the blanket and the lump began to move. Impatient and eager to talk to him, Megan ripped the blanket off. “Listen I––” One of the concubines, Esma, was curled up, wearing only an oversized t-shirt, her eyes just starting to flutter open. “Where’s Rokkan?”

  The woman frowned up at Megan and took her time, stretching and yawning, before she answered. “I don’t know,” she said, now sitting up. Her dyed-blue hair was sticking out in odd ways and there were noticeable bags under her eyes. “He left in the middle of the night.”

  At the thought of the two of them spending the night together, Megan felt a sudden tightness in her chest. “Did he say where he was going?”

  “I didn’t ask,” said Esma. “What do I care? He said I could stay here the rest of the night and that was all I needed to hear. This bed is so much nicer than mine. Have you slept in it yet?” There was a knowing look in her eye which Megan chose to ignore.

  “Would he be with one of the other girls?”

  “One of my sisters you mean?” said Esma.

  “You’re sisters?”

  “All the working girls of District One are my sisters.” Her eyes narrowed and she shot Megan a warning look, as if to say ‘I dare you to judge me or my family.’ “And no, he wouldn’t be with one of them. He always has us entertain him in his room, he never visited us at home. Not even back on District Eleven. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She looked down at where Megan was sitting, blocking her way out of the bed. Megan stood. “I think I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Sorry, Esma,” a voice came from the other side of the room. Rekk was there, holding his clipboard and looking anxious. “But I’m afraid there’s no time. I need to have a meeting with you and your sisters right now.”

  Esma slinked, seductively towards Rekk and lowered her voice. “Good morning Rekk, it’s been a while. You haven’t come to see me in quite some time.” She reached up and touched his face, causing the oversized t-shirt to creep up her legs and expose a part of her buttock. “I’ve missed you.”

  Rekk grabbed her hand softly and pushed it down and away. “I’ve been busy,” he said, deadpan and without any sign of embarrassment. “Now please, come with me. I’ve already gathered the others.” He glanced over Esma’s shoulder at Megan. “Good morning Ms. Zandle, shouldn’t you be getting ready for your shift?” He didn’t ask her directly what the hell she was doing in the prince’s room at five fifteen in the morning, but the threat of getting her in trouble was implied.

  “Where’s Rokkan?”

  “He’s working,” said Rekk. “And he does not wish to be disturbed, is that understood?”

  Megan wasn’t getting anywhere with Rekk, and he was offering her and out by suggesting she go get ready for work. Were she to press her luck, he could throw her in the dungeon again for sneaking around where she doesn’t belong.

  “I better go,” she said.

  “Yes,” said Rekk. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  Megan slipped in between Rekk and Esma and let her gaze drop, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, down to Rekk’s clipboard. She was only able to catch a glimpse of what appeared to be the personal assistant’s schedule for the day, but it was enough. At noon, she saw “Rokkan” written next to a note which read “Interrogation Room.”

  Back in her room, Megan waited for Amara. In the meantime, she tried to work out what exactly she was going to say to Rokkan, how she was going to bring it up in a way that wouldn’t make it seem like he was ignorant of stuff going on in his district, right under his nose –– a way that wouldn’t bruise his ego.

  “It’s ridiculous, though,” she said to Amara once she’d woken up and was getting dressed. “He can’t possibly be so fragile that hearing important, life-saving news from a woman would somehow hurt his pride, right?”

  Amara slipped her tunic over her head, messing up her hair even more than it was after a rough night’s sleep. “How should I know? You’re a lot closer to him than me… a lot closer.”

  Megan ignored her friend’s thinly veiled jab. “Whatever. I’m just going to tell him and if he wants to be a big baby about it, then let him. This is bigger than him and his ego. So then you’re good to cover me again? At noon?”

  “Sure,” said Amara. “I’ll just tell them you took an early lunch or something. All good.”

  “Great.” Megan pulled on her own tunic and smoothed out the wrinkles in the front with her hands. “That’s one problem solved. Now, I just have to figure out where this meeting was going to happen.” She cocked her head and tapped her chin. “If I were an interrogation room inside a big castle, where would I be?”

  “Probably next to the cells,” said Amara. “You know, so you wouldn’t have to move prisoners too far after interrogating them.”

  Megan smiled at her. “And that is why I keep you around.”

  Chapter Ten

  Reassigned

  Esma had tied her new chef’s tunic in a knot, just under her breasts, so that her tanned, flat midriff was showing. She was chewing a piece of gum, every once in a while popping it loudly, and standing with her hand on her hip, wearing more attitude than she was clothing.

  “Look,” she was saying to the castle’s head chef, Trint, a short, angry man with a permanently red face. “I don’t know what to tell you, Rekk said I was reassigned to kitchen duty. Trust me, I tried to get out of it. I don’t want to be stuck in this hot, smelly kitchen either.” She popped her gum. “But Rokkan ordered it, so here I am.”

  Megan and Amara had arrived at their shift to find the two of them arguing, surrounded by the rest of the staff, who were watching like kids watching a schoolyard fight.

  “I can’t have a concubine working in my kitchen!” said Trint. “Who knows what kind of diseases you’re carrying? There has to be a health code violation against this.”

  “Excuse me!” Esma’s hand went to her chest and she gasped audibly. “I’ll have you know I get checked out by a doctor once a week and I keep very, very good care of myself. If you’re not convinced, you can ask the prince himself! He knows everything there is to know about my body.” When she said this, she looked directly at Megan and smirked. “He’s explored every single nook and cranny.”

  “Alright, I’ve had enough of this!” Trint pushed past the staff members in the crowd. “Rekk! Where the hell are you, you clipboard wielding son of a bitch!” They could hear him yelling all the way through the dining room and down the hall.

  Soon, the crowd dissipated, as everyone started on their work. Megan and Amara went to their designated stations –– that day Megan was on chopping duty and Amara was in charge of hard-boiling the eggs. Halfway into chopping her first red pepper, Megan heard someone breathing behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to find Esma, just inches away, staring down over her shoulder.

  “Geez,” said Megan. “Back up! I’m working with a very sharp knife here. Don’t scare people while they are chopping.”

  “Sorry, sorry,” said Esma, in a very uncharacteristically unsure tone. “I was just trying to learn. Can you guys give me a job or something. I don’t feel like standing around and letting all these dirty kitchen people ogle at me like I’m some type of fish out of water.”

  “I don’t think that’s why they are ogling you,” said Amara. She reached out without asking and undid the knot in Esma’s shirt. “You can’t wear it like tha
t. Trust me, you’ll thank me later when you’re cooking with oil and it goes popping and flying everywhere.”

  Esma nodded. “Got it. Rule number one, can’t have style. What else?”

  “Rule number two,” said Megan. “Don’t piss off Trint. Which, unfortunately, you already did. Oh well.” Megan motioned with her head for Esma to watch as she went back to chopping the pepper. “You think you can do that?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Alright, go slow,” she said, handing Esma the knife. “I’ll make sure you’re doing it right.”

  The woman started cutting, cautiously at first then she began to gain more confidence. “This is easy. I could do this all day.”

  “Good, because you might have to,” said Megan. “So did Rekk say why the prince reassigned you?” She tried to sound uninterested, as if the question was just her way of making small talk.

  “Not really,” said Esma. “Something about them being short staffed? I don’t know. It was clearly a lie. I’m just glad I didn’t get trash duty like my sister Stacia. That would have really sucked.”

  “He reassigned all of you?” said Megan. “That’s weird.”

  Esma shrugged. “I guess. Cooking breakfast isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve been asked to do by some man, I’ll tell you that much. As long as I get paid, it’s really all the same to me. If you ask me though.” She looked around to make sure nobody was listening in and lowered her voice. “This prince has been acting really weird that past few days. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but I hope he’s able to shake it soon. He’s got a district to run, he can’t go losing his wits now.”

  * * *

  It was closer to twelve thirty by the time Megan was able to sneak all the way down to the basement and find the room labeled “Interrogation.” The keypad on this lock was flashing red, indicating it was locked, which Megan expected. It didn’t matter, she had a plan to get inside. She knocked softly, three times, and pressed her ear against the door.