Lexi Monarch

by T. K. Perry

  The throne room was populated by an excited knot of wedding guests who surrounded the bride and groom. The tangle of scents made her eyes water and her sinuses burn. A group of fritillary brothers seemed determined to light the air afire with their spicy scents. Lexi took a breath in through her mouth to spare her nose and set off a coughing fit.

  Erynnis was nearly apoplectic with rage. “Stop signaling this instant!” For a moment he struggled with the locking bolt on the balcony door before motioning a guard to help him. They threw the doors open wide letting in a blast of chilly pre-dawn air. Erynnis waved a large, leather book in a vain attempt to speed the airing of the room. As Lexi continued to cough, his waving became more frantic. “You are disturbing the Princess!”

  Lexi felt fortunate that the coughing hid her laughter; neither was dignified, but her mother’s chastisement: “Ill-timed humor does not become a lady” rang in her ears. She attempted to apologize and congratulate the couple before withdrawing to the less-offensive air of the officiant’s office, but her words were difficult to discern between coughs. Tiger and three other guards followed her and secured both of the office doors. It wasn’t until she was able to stop coughing that she could hear Tiger’s musical laugh. She wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks with a yellowed handkerchief one of the guards had handed her and allowed herself a smile.

  “Well, that went well,” she said, and bit back a laugh as she heard Erynnis’ irritable lecture on the other side of the door. Tiger’s closed-mouth laughter continued, but the other three guards were silent. She held out the damp handkerchief, relieved when one of two identical white winged guards took it from her hand. “Thank you...” she paused, waiting for the guard to supply his name.

  “Morph, Your Highness,” he answered in a gruff voice as he tucked the used handkerchief back into his pocket.

  “Thank you, Morph,” she said, another little coughing fit escaping her. The scent seemed to have soaked into her clothing and hair. “Maybe we should go further away,” she suggested.

  “You’ll have to wash it out,” the other white-winged guard blurted. Morph gave his brother a slight scowl before nodding his assent.

  Lexi suppressed a groan. It seemed like all she did was bathe. “It won’t go away?” She looked back and forth between the two brothers, who appeared to be having a silent discussion of scowls and pursed lips.

  “It’s like when a cat marks his territory; it will reek a day or two unless a competing scent covers it or it’s washed away,” the second brother explained.

  Morph groaned and covered his eyes.

  “What? It’s a good way to explain it,” his brother argued.

  Tiger, who had never stopped laughing, now opened his mouth for a full guffaw, earning scowls from the three other guards.

  “Have I been marked, then?” Lexi asked, her hands tightening back into fists.

  “No. Well, probably not on purpose. Two of the Fritillary brothers have been fighting over the bride; the unsuccessful brother was trying to mark her,” Morph’s brother explained.

  Lexi’s mouth twisted in involuntary disgust before she schooled her expression. “Is that typical wedding behavior?”

  Morph’s brother laughed. “Definitely not. Very rude.”

  “And it’s different from signaling?”

  Morph’s brother blushed. “Uh, you need to touch them.”

  Morph rolled his eyes. “Phemus, he didn't touch the Princess. You don't know what you're talking about.” He turned deferentially back to Lexi. “He didn’t have to touch you. He just had to get close and signal a bunch of times in a row.”

  “So I can cover the smell by having someone else mark me?” Lexi asked as Tiger mouthed the word “no.”

  Morph blushed.

  “It’s like declaring yourself mated,” Phemus continued, blushing until the tips of his ears were bright red. “Or anyway, it smells like you have.”

  “Phemus, don’t talk anymore,” Morph pleaded, his own blush matching his brother’s.

  The third guard snorted a laugh and tried to cover it by clearing his throat.

  “Then I had better wash. Where is the Governor’s private bath?”

  “This way, Your Highness.”

  Limen’s private bath wasn’t at all what she had imagined. When Morph opened the door, sulphur-scented steam rolled out, and Lexi had to fight the urge to gag at the stench. A rotting wooden deck ran from the doorway and surrounded the small blue pool, from which more steam was rising. Empty pegs lined one side of the room, with a pile of wet towels on the deck beneath. The other side of the room was lined with three shelves; the lower was rusted metal and held the largest collection of soaps Lexi had ever seen, in every conceivable shape, color, and scent, all in various stages of use.

  “The Governor liked soap,” Phemus commented unnecessarily.

  Tiger’s musical closed-mouth laugh sounded behind her, but Lexi resisted the desire to join him. It felt a little like violating Limen’s privacy, stumbling upon his penchant for soaps. Hiding a smile, she took in the remaining shelves with their shampoos and colognes, then stepped onto the rotting deck. It creaked ominously beneath her, but held. Crouching, she stuck her fingers into the water and withdrew them immediately with a little yelp. The lovely blue water was scalding.

  “It’s so hot,” Lexi murmured.

  Phemus nodded knowingly. “It’s the geyser.”

  Morph cleared his throat. “There’s a little geyser in the back there that shoots up really hot water around midnight. The Governor always bathed after dinner so the water had plenty of time to cool.”

  “Did he use the life servant pool the rest of the time?”

  Phemus shook his head. “The last governor could just signal. His grandfather used those,” Phemus explained, pointing to the top shelf of cologne bottles.

  Lexi took one down and sniffed a masculine, earthy musk, and replaced it. The next three smelled like alcohol, and the fourth just smelled rancid. “I think I’m going to have to bathe in one of the other pools,” she decided, unconsciously rubbing her still-smarting fingers.

  Phemus cleared his throat, “It’s the men’s hours at the life servant pool; but we can clear it out."

  “Oh no, don't do that. I'll just use the in-season pool,” she said as she turned back to her room for her bathing suit. She felt uncomfortably ostentatious parading through the halls with her four guards and searing stench. Every time her hair moved she caught the scent afresh, and her eyes were watering by the time she was able to shed her marked clothing and pull her hair back. There were only a few people in the pool, and they clustered in tight knots of conversation while they stared at her. Her streaming eyes made a blank expression impossible, so she simply ignored them and hurried through her bathing. She caught Tiger watching her once, but he simply returned to scanning the room looking taut and guard-like. Lexi hid a frown and finished washing, irritably pulling at the tangles in her hair. They only reminded her of Cam, then Cercy. The wet march back to her room with squeaky shoes was somehow worse. She needed a robe. She thought of Limen’s moth-eaten one in his bedroom and suppressed a cringe.

  Exasperated, she glanced at Tiger, then spoke to Phemus in an undertone. “I need a lady’s maid.”

  Tiger’s snort grated on her, but she resisted looking at him.

  “Is there someone who wouldn’t mind?” Though Clodi’s offer had been sweet, Lexi didn’t want to distract her from finding a mate.

  Phemus shrugged. “The clerk would know.”

  The clerk gave me Psyche as a roommate, she thought, but managed a tight smile as they reached her room. Despite Clodi’s snoring form, Tiger and Morph checked for intruders before heading out to the balcony. Lexi watched Tiger’s lovely yellow and black wings glide into the early twilight before collapsing onto her bed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lexi awoke to a loud thunk at the balcony followed by a stream of profanity. Lexi and Clodi jumped out of bed, then stood looking at eac
h other with startled, sleep-befuddled expressions.

  “Are you okay in there?" Phemus called through the door before tentatively opening it.

  There was another thud at the balcony door and Phemus crossed the room and threw the balcony doors open. Morph was leaning out and watching the courtyard below, several fist-sized rocks at his feet.

  Morph turned to face the room, blood dripping down his face from a gash on his forehead. “It’s fine now. Mr. Swallowtail got him.”

  “Got who?” Phemus asked, ignoring Clodi and Lexi’s gasps. He yanked a gray handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against his brother’s forehead.

  “The brother of the guy that got his wing broken yesterday,” he answered, taking the handkerchief and glancing at Lexi.

  “He threw rocks at you?” Lexi clarified.

  Morph nodded, pulling the handkerchief away to see how much blood it had collected.

  “Here,” Clodi said, pressing white fabric against the wound. “I can take you to the infirmary.”

  “Yes, do. Thank you, Clodi,” Lexi said, letting them pass before walking towards the balcony.

  Phemus was out on the balcony, shutting the doors behind him.

  “Wait," Lexi called.

  Phemus opened the doors again and looked at her expectantly.

  “Is Tiger injured?”

  Phemus shrugged, “Didn’t look it. He took the attacker inside the castle.”

  Lexi nodded her assent and Phemus closed the balcony doors. She dressed in a flurry, her tangled hair catching on buttons. She glanced at the cloudy mirror and shook her head. She looked unkempt, but couldn’t spare the time to fix it. When she opened the door, the remaining guard briefly glanced at her face, then stared at her hair. Lexi groaned inwardly, but set a quick pace down the hall, winding her hair up the way she used to when she rode. She was partway to the dungeon before she realized she had nothing to secure her hair, so she let it unwind back into a snarled mess, and began to fly. The halls were sparsely populated, and most people stepped aside when they noticed her speed and expansive wings. Outside the display hall, she was forced to dodge the distracted conversationalists that spilled out, still shouting to be heard over the music. At the top of the dungeon stairs, a girl with vivid yellow and orange wings refused to make way, blocking the stairwell with her diminutive frame. Lexi landed in front of her. The honey blonde narrowed her green eyes and planted her feet.

  “Please move,” Lexi commanded, the polite words belied by her tone.

  The girl's hands fisted and her lips trembled before a single word escaped. “Wing-breaker,” she hissed, her high-pitched voice and short stature making her accusation almost comical.

  Lexi eyed her white-knuckled fists and folded her wings tightly behind her. She considered retreat, but her need to make sure Tiger wasn't hurt overrode her caution. Drawing to her full height she leaned over the girl. “Get out of my way,” she warned, imitating her mother's iciest tone and expression.

  The girl's slitted eyes widened in surprise, and she stepped aside with a faltering step, her wings falling open. Lexi eyed her coldly as she walked around, her expression only slipping when she saw the white backside of the girl's wings. Was she a white? Lexi fought a little shiver, then flew down the dungeon steps just as Tiger started up them.

  “Whoa,” he said, catching her by the shoulders and stepping backwards before he set her down. “That's a little too fast,” he chided, then walked around her to look up the staircase. “And where are your guards?”

  “Oh,” Lexi murmured, just as her winded guards jogged down the last set of steps. “I forgot,” she admitted absently, looking him over for injuries.

  Tiger drew his brows together until they nearly touched. “I’m fine,” he growled. “Ora didn’t even see me coming. He was too focused on pelting Morph.”

  “Ora is Coli’s other brother?” Lexi clarified.

  Tiger gave her a quick nod. “He’s furious no one is imprisoned for his brother’s broken wing.”

  Lexi frowned, then smoothed out her features as Pol walked up to the locked gate.

  “What’s Mr. Sulphur’s punishment, Your Highness?” he asked.

  This new responsibility fell heavily on her shoulders and she braced them involuntarily. “What is customary?”

  Pol scratched his whiskered chin with a yellowed thumbnail. “Well now, that depends. Ambushed a guard with a weapon...is Morph hurt?”

  “Bloody head wound, but he seemed okay,” Phemus said, his fury sufficiently palpable that Lexi turned to look at him.

  “Would you go check his condition, Phemus?” Lexi asked.

  Phemus gave a jerky nod, spun on his heel, and fairly leapt up the dungeon steps.

  “Hmm...” Pol continued. “Any violence against the guards has met with heavy sentences under the past two governors, but if you make it too long, then we have to deal with him as a life servant. It’d be different if he were a white, but Mr. Sulphur’s anger problems aren’t likely to change.”

  “How long has Ora been here?” Lexi asked.

  Tiger twitched his tense shoulders in what passed for a shrug. “Couple of months, I think.”

  “Was he trying to get into the Princess’ room or just hurt Morph?” Pol asked.

  Tiger pressed his lips together until they began to turn white. “He threatened Lexi all the way down here.”

  Pol’s grizzled frown deepened. “You could banish him from the castle.”

  Lexi’s eyes widened. “Send him home without a mate?”

  “Well, the last one we punished that way didn’t go home. He hid out in the woods for a week, then attacked a poor girl before she even made it to the castle. He’s in the lifer section now,” Pol said nodding back over his left shoulder.

  Lexi shuddered. “How many months in the dungeon do you recommend, then?”

  Pol rubbed a hand over his balding head and sighed. “Six, but he’s going to make a lousy life servant.”

  Tiger’s wings twitched in agitation. “Coli’s family tends to have three- to four-month seasons.”

  “Lousy life servant,” Pol repeated, shaking his head, then looked at Lexi expectantly.

  “Doesn’t the governor usually hold a hearing for the longer sentences?” Lexi asked.

  “Nope. Just passed sentences on a whim,” the fourth guard spoke up, his face angry. “Let it go, Heck,” Pol chided. “You were so hot-headed, you didn’t have a chance of getting a mate. Be happy you get to be a guard instead of a sewage sweeper.”

  Heck folded his gray-checked white wings behind him and glowered. “I’d kill myself before I did that,” he mumbled.

  Fighting to keep her face blank, Lexi drew up to her full height, taller than both Pol and Heck. “I will inform you when I’ve made my decision.” She wanted to sweep dramatically from the room, but she lacked both the broad skirts and the space. She had to wait for Heck to move out of her way and the delayed exit felt all wrong, especially when she heard Tiger murmur, “Yes, my Queen,” under his breath.

  “You shouldn’t return to that room,” Tiger said out loud as he followed her up the stairs, Heck sullenly trudging behind him.

  “Why? Does Coli have another brother?”

  “You have too few guards to defend it adequately.”

  Lexi wanted to wave away his concerns, but the attack had frightened her, and she desperately needed to sleep. “Fine. Limen’s room, then,” she conceded.

  There were two guards waiting outside Limen’s room, which pleased Lexi until she recognized their uniform: the royal flying guard. She stopped so short that Tiger pressed a hand against her back to keep from colliding with her wings.

  “Princess Lexi,” one of them addressed her and came forward pulling an official-looking parchment from an inner pocket. “I have a message for you.”

  She ought to have said something, stepped forward, taken the message from his hands, anything, but she couldn’t. It was Tiger that stepped forward and transferred the document fr
om the guardsman’s hands into hers. As his hand touched hers, he signaled subtly, the soothing scent softened the paroxysm of fear and failure into something more bearable.

  “Thank you,” she managed, and resumed her steps to the governor’s room.

  “Your Highness, the Governor is being attended by medics at the moment and can’t be disturbed,” the same guardsman informed her, blocking her entrance.

  “The Governor? Has Limen returned?” Lexi could hear the shock in her voice, but couldn’t contain it.

  “He was attacked and badly beaten.”

  Lexi's mouth fell open, and she involuntarily took a step back before she recovered herself. “And you brought him back here?” she clarified, trying not to sound incredulous.

  “I returned him to his post.” There was something tight and almost chiding in his tone.

  Lexi's nostrils flared at his subtle insolence and her spine elongated involuntarily. “I relieved him of his post,” she retorted as she lifted her chin and stared down at him.

  The guardsman blinked several times, started to speak, then slowly closed his mouth. His gaze drifted to the guardsman beside him in a mute cry for help.

  “We found him alone and unconscious, Your Highness,” the second guardsman explained.

  “Alone?” Lexi whirled to Heck. “Find out who Limen was paying to escort him down the mountain and bring them to me.” Turning back, she again addressed both guardsmen. “You didn’t see Anna or Van West?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “They were traveling with the former Governor,” she informed them. “Are there more of you? Someone must be sent immediately to locate them and ensure they are safe.”

  “There are eight of us, Your Highness,” the first guardsman responded. “The other six are searching the castle for you.”