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The courtiers are trying to work out whether or not they should bow to him or attempt to kill him, but nobody is brave enough for that. I do like his species. They’re very beautiful. I am surrounded by scales and glamour and shining eyes that make me feel very meaty and plain.
“I thought you were dead, Manik.” A female voice finally greets him as someone new enters the chamber.
“Sorry to disappoint, Enchante,” he drawls.
All eyes turn to her, including mine. Enchante is beautiful. She is an elegant, tall, willowy creature with golden eyes and blue and white scales. She looks a lot like Manik actually, which is mildly concerning. Then again, I can’t talk about choice in partners, given Stan.
She glides in with her arms held slightly aloft, her elegant hands draped at the wrist, long nails painted silver and gold. On most people it would be too much, but on Enchante it looks just right. Her face is heart shaped and her hair is long and loose. She’s fucking stunning, and for a second, I am worried that I just brought Manik here to possibly hook back up with his ex. Then I remember she just sent a literal army, followed by a weapon of mass destruction.
“What are you doing, Manik?”
“He’s taking what’s his.”
She glances at me ever so briefly, her eyes sliding over me before skittering away again. It’s not so much eye contact as eye hit and run. “Who is this?”
“I’m Lyssa. And I want my fucking dog back.” There’s a pause in which I realize a little too much of my own baggage is coming to bear here. “I mean, Manik’s taking his throne back.”
“A throne is a little more than the matter of who sits in it,” Enchante says. “Manik, I knew I would see you again. I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”
“Is that so? You sent a warhead to turn me into a crater, and you expect me to believe you anticipated my return?” Manik laughs in her face.
She’s acting like she planned this, but I am pretty certain that she didn’t. She has that look I’ve seen before, except last time I saw it, it was in the mirror. She’s been blindsided.
If we’d come with an army, or with any kind of violence, she’d have fought us. Instead, we turned her own tools against her. We Marjoried her. And there is no defense against the Marjorie.
“It’s your turn to stay away now, Enchante,” he tells her. “I think a good fifty-year exile will make up for your crimes.”
Enchante splutters. It’s a glorious sound. “You think you can just walk in here and take over? After all that has happened?”
“I imagine anybody who has suffered under your reign feels as I did by the end of our relationship. More than ready to be rid of you.”
That is a sick burn. I hear a ripple of amusement in the ranks. She’s a tyrant and a monster, a manipulator and a Marjorie. Or wait, actually, I think I am a Marjorie now. It feels good to be Marjorie.
“Take her away,” Manik says with a flick of his wrist.
The guards who betrayed him now have a choice. Do they obey Manik, or do they obey the queen they have been serving in his absence?
They choose Manik.
