After surviving a bank robbery, with much thanks to Aquaman, Camille decides to complete her training to join the police force; to help people like he did and to redeem herself from a gruesome death that she was too petrified to stop. After being as...
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The day was already off to a bad start. It had been about a week since the wedding and Camille was slumped in front of a computer at the human embassy. Her eyes were glued to the screen, reading the same sentence over and over again. The Daily Planet had just released their new issue in both a physical copy and an online article, and right on the top page in all bold letters read 'Oops! Atlantean queen suffers wardrobe malfunction'.
Camille's mind repeated those words like a scratched record. Famous gossip columnist, Cat Grant, had written a two-page spread on the incident - complete with pictures. Instead of a detailed account of the first human queen of Atlantis, and the potential change this might create, they had shown her as an idiot that was ignorant to Atlantean customs. It wasn't uncommon in a world of dying newspapers and the growing need for clickbait, but Camille was still shocked that this was what they had chosen to focus on.
The longer she stared at the title, the bigger each word seemed to get. Her grip on the mouse tightened, fingers curling and tensing until they finally broke through the metal husk. The sharp shrapnel pressed into her skin with enough force to stab any regular person, but instead the metal was forced to bend against her hand.
"You spend a lot of time here." A deep, somewhat refined voice spoke. It yanked Camille's attention off the computer screen and towards the doorway. It was Ron Troupe, the reporter that had travelled to Atlantis for exclusive first-hand stories; both for the Daily Planet and his new book. "I thought you'd be a little busier as queen."
"My lessons start today." Camille replied, sinking further into her chair and picking up the destroyed mouse. She had left dents so large that it looked like a ball of scrap metal. The right clicker had been lifted from its socket, and now she could see the inner workings of it; the sensor, the infrared LED, and most of the scrolling wheel. "I'm not being given many duties until I memorize the Atlantean laws."
Ron's polished shoes clicked against the stone floor as he moved to the other side of the room. Digging into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a small notepad and pen. The pages were worn along the edges and some had been torn out entirely, indicating that it had been well-used. "And how is that going for you?"
Camille watched his felt-tip pen scratch across the notepad and frowned. "Why? So you can get Cat Grant to embarrass me again?"
The reporter paused then groaned in annoyance. "Don't remind me. I sent Perry a whole five pages of information on Atlantean wedding ceremonies, the relevance of having a human queen in Atlantis, and as much about the procedure that you went through as I could find...and they put that trash on the front page."
His resentment was so apparent that it, weirdly, made the entire room heat up. Ron's eyes narrowed at the article behind Camille, unable to contain the sneer that planted itself on his mouth. The queen sighed. "I guess drama sells more than progress."
"It always did." Ron's gaze finally landed on the broken mouse still in Camille's hand. His frown elongated. The reporter had wanted to do a little research on that computer. It was the fastest in the embassy, after all. It looked like he'd have to settle for his own virus-infested laptop. Maybe, if he wanted to stoop as low as Cat Grant, he could take a picture of the damaged mouse and send it to The Planet...but he had a plethora of more interesting things to write about. He would probably just give it a mention in his upcoming book instead.
