Page 39 of King of Serpents

Zathexa straightened upon her throne, her gavo fully extending as her wings expanded around her authoritatively. “Stop! Stop this at once!”

His gaze shifted to her and then back to the bitter battle between the females. The matriarchs were waiting, a soft hum filling the chamber with their growing excitement as they watched from the side-lines. He frowned in response, his mood darkening with suspicion. It wasn’t outright rebellion against his mother’s rule, but it was clear that they were no longer of a mind to heed her. It took no special deduction on his part to understand what was happening. The noble families, impatient with the process of selection, had intentionally taken the selection of the next queen mother into their own hands, where the strongest and most cunning would grievously injure or annihilate her rivals for the right to breed the next royal line.

Shrieks of pain filled the throne chamber as blood was drawn, spraying in long, thin arcs and splattering on the dark stone. It did not remain undisturbed, however, but was smeared and dragged across the floor in a painting of madness on the females whipped across the floor and rolled together as they tussled. The blood smeared and stained their scales and wings. More than one female wore it painted across her face as she grinned savagely before tearing into her opponent

It sickened him, reminding him of the careless, brutish displays in the haga, but far worse. So much for the civilization of the shinara. The females who ruled the deep mocked the Vehal, but not once while dwelling among the Vehal had he witnessed anything that came even close in comparison. The Vehal males could get a bit territorial and possessive in claiming their mates, but it was rare that blood was ever drawn... and it was certainly not carried out casually and without repercussion.

“I said, enough!” Zathexa bellowed. Her tail whipped into the small table by her throne, sending the dishes flying with the strength of her strike.

Despite her age, his mother was impressive in size and power. She had risen to her full height, dwarfing many of the females of her court, her golden scales almost luminous in the lightning as her coiled tail toppled the tables, scattering stone and metal bowls filled with fruit and succulent food everywhere. The crash of the table and everything on it sent a vibrational shockwave through the room, effectively quelling the combatants into a state of shock as they collectively turned their heads toward her. Silence fell over them, punctuated by the steady drip of blood hitting the stone floor.

Zathexa’s gaze roved over them, a sneer baring her fangs with disgust. “Just look at yourselves,” she hissed. “This is the future of the noble families... our future matriarchs?” She bit out a harsh, hissing laugh that made more than one of the younger females recoil with a wince of shame. “Pathetic.”

Good. Let them see themselves clearly. But he was certain that not one—not even his mother—would be willing to look close enough to see that the days of the noble matriarchs’s power within the shinara were coming to a long-overdue end.

“My queen,” Ferinia protested, but she immediately fell silent when Zathexa turned abruptly toward her, her gavo snapping. Or perhaps it was because the tip of Jathella’s velkat skimmed Ferinia’s neck, as if summoned by an invisible command from the queen.

“Do not push my patience, Ferinia,” Zathexa spat. “I was sympathetic toward you for having your mating opportunity interrupted, but this pitiful display has changed everything. You cannot so easily escape suspicion now. I would like to see you satisfactorily prove that the previous incident was not staged so as to lead up to this moment. None of you can,” she snarled as she rounded on the gathered females.

“Queen Zathexa, it is not what it seems,” one of the elder matriarchs attempted to cajole. “They are merely strong, willful young females coming into their prime. This competitiveness is just the actions of healthy, powerful Seshanamitesh females.”

Zathexa’s eyes narrowed on her. “To act as the males our foremothers escaped?” she hissed. “Quarrelling and drawing blood amongst ourselves.”

The words had a ripple effect, sending another wave of shock among the females. To Therxian’s surprise, several of the younger females wilted at the comparison, shame and embarrassment flooding their faces. They were a small minority compared to those who reacted angrily, but it gave him hope.

“These are extenuating circumstances,” another matriarch objected as she drew forward from among the crowd of observers. She gestured to the bloodied females. “Never before has our shinara encountered a situation in which a queen did not have an heir. In times past, it was normal for there to be several young royal females to nest together as maiden attendants to their royal sister, and to be prepared to take her place if needed. And yet for four generations the royal line has weakened and supplied fewer daughters. It is only natural that our daughters seek to establish themselves by the rules of nature, in which the strongest and most capable reinvigorate the failing royal line.”

Therxian froze, his gaze fastening on his mother. The high queen stiffened as the weight of their words settled over her. Her face hardening, she trembled with fury.

“Get out,” she spat. Her head whipped toward Jathella, a long furious hiss escaping her. “Jathella, get them out of my palace before I wipe out the noble line completely for their impertinence. And you would be first, Jighera.”

A look of surprise crossed the matriarch’s face, her gavo taking on a dim, sickly hue with her shock. “You would not—”

“Do not test it,” Kitanara hissed as she drew over to the female’s side.

Jighera’s mouth snapped shut, and the female reluctantly retreated in response to the small wave of Kitanara’s velkat. And she was not the only one. Though there was a quiet hiss of protest that arose among the nobles, the guards that had taken position throughout the crowd likewise steered the matriarchs and their daughters toward the exit of the throne chamber. It was not until the last one was removed that Zathexa sank onto her throne and waved tiredly in his direction.

“There is no need to hide yourself here, Therxian,” she sighed. “But this madness is most certainly out of hand. It is upsetting. Return to your nest. I will summon you once I have decided what is to be done.”

“Mother,” he murmured as he slid from his concealment within the shadows. “Perhaps this is not the way.”

She dipped her chin wearily. “The right way has become less clear to me. I am tired, Therxian. Go now so that I may return to my nest to think and rest.”

“As you say.” He inclined his head and turned away. He hesitated, though, and turned on his tail to look back at his mother. “Do you regret it, Mother?”

He said nothing more. He turned away, carrying in his heart and mind the image of grief captured briefly on his mother’s face. He had not needed to say more. She knew of whom he spoke, and yet she still refrained from asking what was clearly in her heart to ask.

Chapter 29

“I’m still not sure how you imagine I can help Therxian,” Alex pointed out as she followed Buosoa through the corridors. The female was intent on making rounds, and Alex was simply bored enough to follow her. It also gave far too much time to mentally stew over the guard’s earlier words. “’Be his peace and strength’ isn’t exactly telling me much. I’m just a non-gratas human with little to offer when it comes to revolutions. In fact, you could say that non-gratas lack anything useful in skill sets when it comes to that altogether,” she groused. “I can’t imagine he needs someone to constantly stand beside him and reassure him that he is doing great.”

“You would be surprised at what males require,” Buosoa replied distractedly as her head tipped to examine an upcoming fork in the corridor.

Alex pulled herself out of her own thoughts to peer at it and recognized it immediately. They were near the entrance from the upper level. “I don’t know. He seems extremely capable when it comes to formulating and executing a plan.”

The female huffed dismissively. “He is a talented schemer and broad-minded, and he is loyal. We would not support him if he lacked the capability to lead effectively and make a real change. In this he is a better choice than Slengral, who is often too single-minded, caring little beyond his mate and his nest. But he has a fault that is common among most males: he requires a certain amount of coddling.”

“Coddling?” Alex echoed. For the life of her, no matter how she tried, she couldn’t reconcile that word with the male she’d come to know. “Therxian is the least coddled male I have ever met.”