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“A king must be able to handle distractions. You are taking the metaphorical throne at a crucial time in our history. You will rebuild the fleet, you will re-secure the colonies — many of which are being raided as word spreads of our DICK defeat. Your victory against the EnD is a turning point. The soldiers are speaking widely of the way you captured the entire ship with nothing but your captor’s own blade. These are the stories which make our empire safe. It is time for a truly Terrible reign.”
A Terrible reign sounds like the stuff of my wildest dreams. I would be lying if I said I did not have some designs on the crown, but as a loyal subject, one keeps those very much repressed.
“I would have thought I’d have more time to prepare, sire. It is not as simple as throwing on a crown and taking over.”
“For most, no. For you? Yes. You have been by my side for years. You have been privy to every decision. You executed and enforced most of them. You are the only living soul who can take this position.”
“And your son, Atom? If he grows up and decides the crown is rightfully his?”
“Atom is only half-Essence. He could never wear the crown.”
“Well, not this one, it wouldn’t fit. But he may have designs on the general power structure. He has royal blood in his veins.”
“That seems like something we can worry about some other time,” Tyrant says. “After all, it’s very possible that he will have no interest whatsoever in war and politics.”
Possible, but unlikely. In my experience, royal blood wins out. Tyrant’s abdication will not be as smooth or as simple as he is making it sound. It will send ripples of consequence through space and time. But in this moment, it all seems like a solid enough idea, I suppose.
There’s just one last possible drop of chaos with the potential to undo everything.
“I’m not sure how Lucky will feel about being a test. She is already concerned that she is unloveable thanks to the general heinous behavior of the average human male.”
“You did not know that she was a test. You thought you were following the orders of your king, and then the whims of your heart. Your love for her is real, there can be no doubting that. She must know it for herself, too.”
I do not like hearing the phrase “whims of your heart” from Tyrant. Maybe it is best he abdicates instantly. Kings shouldn’t go around talking about the whims of various people’s hearts.
“Wait… how do you know it? I did not make the confession until we were already on board the EnD ship. And you were occupied with the birthing of your infant. How could you possibly know I love her?”
Tyrant laughs. “Your indignant words suggest your love was not in evidence before you left, that your devotion and care was not written in every expression and seen in every action.”
I recall lecturing Lucky about having to have everything explicitly spelled out for her, and now I have fallen into the same trap. There can be no denying I love her. There can be even less denying that our attraction was instantaneous, if fraught.
“We have served together for many years, Terrible. We have no secrets from one another. I know you to be loyal to the crown, brave in battle, and now you have a mate of your own, someone to settle you and soften your harsher impulses. You are ready to rule. I am ready to retire.”
I know better than to keep questioning the king’s will. Tyrant would not say this without meaning it. He would not place the crown on my head lightly. I have been coronated, and…
“Oh my GOD!”
I should have known that we would not be alone for long. Lucky follows me as faithfully as my own shadow. Now she is dancing and clapping her hands, and putting on a one person parade. I am sure she thinks there should be fanfare and mass adoration, but I do not need the approval of the many. I have all I need, and all I need is her.
“Humans always seem to be there when you least expect them, don’t they,” Tyrant observes with a smile.
“This one does,” I agree.
“Tyrant, Tania wants you. She says you need to change Atom,” Lucky says, jerking her thumb back toward the bedroom. The erstwhile king wastes no time in responding. Tyrant is now the ruler of baby changes and the whims of his mate, and I am sure he could not be happier about it.
“You’re king!” Lucky extends her arms in a gesture of general joy.
“I am king.”
“That was way easier than Earth kings. We have to have ceremonies and you’d have to walk down the street and then he’d…” she stops herself mid-babble. “You are one of those people who was born to be king. You’re going to be excellent at it. You’re already a legend in my mind.”
