KINGSLAYER

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Act 3 Chapter 114
JAYLAH

Jaylah had nearly made it to her quarters to be changed for her dinner with Ermalai when she heard a rasping, wet sort of sound coming from ahead. She turned the final corner to see an unfamiliar maid being consoled by the soldiers that stood guard before the doors. They had stashed sacks of something behind them, but abandoned them to speak to the crying woman in hushed tones.

"What is this?" Jaylah asked. Her maid-spies were the only ones that served her, not this newcomer.

"I'm so s-sorry." The maid's words were garbled from sobs, her face hidden in her hands. "I had no part in it, I swear. I was only the one he asked to bring them to you."

"Bring what?" Her soldiers looked to her, mouths set in identical grim lines. "Bring what?"

"The...the bodies," the maid wailed.

Jaylah looked at the unmarked bags behind them with newfound horror. "Take them into the foyer lest anyone see." But her entire body thrummed with one question: whose body was in there?

When they were pulled into the large circular entrance of her quarters, Jaylah stood over them, heart pounding madly. It could not be Alexander, he was too loyal to Ermalai. But anyone else...

"Open them," she demanded. Slowly, sure not to show any distaste, the soldiers pulled open the knots. Her fist over her mouth, the maid turned away from the sight.

First, the metallic smell of fresh blood wafted into the air and Jaylah regretted bringing the bags into the place she dwelt. Then she saw the outline of the parts, strewn haphazardly on the stained fabric. They were not even complete corpses, they were just heads with cords of muscle hanging from the places they were severed.

When she saw their faces, she could have given a scream of fury. It was as if the aftershock of an explosion hit her, unnaturally soundless as it knocked her off her feet. Her spies. Kriti, Glykeria, Voula. She had just given them their final assignment less than a day ago, and now they were dead.

Ermalai had done this. He had threatened to do it and refused to give up when she tried to force his hand. She resisted the urge to tear her hands through her hair. The three maids were the only servants she could completely trust to be loyal to her and he knew that. He deprived her of any intel, any advantage, any help. Her power over him was reduced to ashes. Gone.

She imagined him sitting in his quarters smiling to himself at what he had done to her. Victorious. Happy.

One of the soldiers started saying, "We can...we can hold a funeral for them..."

There would be no funeral. If anyone knew of this, Jaylah would be a laughingstock. Her people would find her an embarrassment, a weak child on the throne. They would laugh at her.

With no warning, Jaylah swung her arm and her fist slammed against the marble wall. Immediate pain shot through her knuckles and up the bone of her arm. At the very least, she had sprained it and broken skin. Letting it fall back down, she savored the horrible pain as a focusing agent. It was a grim reminder of why she had to keep pushing on, had to think of crueler punishments for his insubordination.

She recalled her triumphant scene that morning, the struggling Navrikan advisor and the way his writhing eventually stopped altogether. It was still hanging in the square as a reminder to all who looked at it.

"Burn the remains," she told her soldiers before calmly heading out. She would have the hung man removed. Only then could her revenge commence.

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When she entered the dining hall, Jaylah did not show anything on her face, not her rage or her rising glee. She knew Ermalai was searching for it as he smiled at her, devious darkness in the pools of his beady eyes. Adrik was not going to be present tonight, so it would be even more tense without him as a barrier. By the night's end, of them would have to bend to the other.

"Good evening." Ermalai's grin was near giddy, transforming the lines of his face into something frightening.

"Good evening." When Jaylah sat across from him, he was able to do the same. She put her napkin on her lap, unable to meet Ermalai's eyes. "Before we dine, I believe we must discuss the events of late."

"What events?"

She could have strangled him right then and there. Her hands, the right one still pulsing with pain, stayed obediently in her lap. "You know of what I speak. I want no more of it."

"You want no more of it?" A condescending snort. "Then you must finally be a good daughter-in-law and submit to my wishes. You know that."

Jaylah chewed on her lip so hard it drew blood. There was a long silence.

"Alright," she said in a near whisper. "Alright. But you must give me your word that there will be no more bloodshed."

"Of course. I did not want to shed blood either. But you forced my hand." He shook his head as a father might do at a disobedient child. "You wounded me greatly with your impudence, Jaylah. But I do believe we can mend things still."

A bob of her chin. "For Adrik."

"Indeed. I knew you would come to your senses."

Three meters away from him, Jaylah imagined how rapidly she could overpower him. He was just a frail old man. But she did nothing. "I apologize for what I did."

He waved a merciful hand. "Let bygones be bygones. Let us eat together."

Jaylah clapped her hands twice and the servants came rushing out with their platters, having been anxiously awaiting her beckon. They settled the meal onto the table before each royal—roast meat sliced into juicy slabs surrounded by greens and topped off by a honey glaze that shone under the bright light of three chandeliers.

"I recall you mentioning you enjoy this dish so I had my servants cook it for you in hopes that you would see it as an olive branch," Jaylah told him.

"How very kind." He was acting as if he was the Emperor at the table, not her. "I do see it as such."

They began to eat. The meat tasted just as savory as it looked. Out of the corner of her eye, Jaylah watched Ermalai take several generous bites. "Is it to your liking?"

"Yes..." He lifted another bite of the meat to his lips as if to make sure he agreed with his own statement. "It's more delicious than I remember it being when my father served it to us as children."

"Delightful. I will be sure to tell the head chef of your enjoyment."

The food on his plate was nearly gone when he wiped his mouth with his napkin and asked, "This is chicken, correct? The chef must have cooked it in some spices I am not familiar with. It tastes good, but a bit...different."

"Ah." Jaylah put down her fork. "No. It is not chicken. I figured the Czar of Navrika deserved a spectacular meal—one made of the most exotic meat."

"Exotic?" His brows were drawn.

"Oh, yes. But I thought you might recognize it by now, as it derives from Navrika. In fact, I do believe it arrived here on the same ship you did." She shook her head in pity. "The creature had such a sad end, but the meat is so tender." His eyes widened as she took a large bite.

Realizing what she had done all at once, Ermalai leapt up from the table and ran—actually ran—out of the hall to vomit. She did not think he was capable of moving so fast.

She looked at his abandoned plate of food and her own half-gone one, the special meal she had her cook create just for tonight. She did the harvesting of the meat beforehand of course, as to not rouse suspicion. Finally sitting in peace, Jaylah ate alone at a leisurely pace until she was full.