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I can’t be seen.
We knew it was coming, sure. But the thoughts rattle around in my head a lot. I try to come up with another explanation, but there seemingly isn’t one.
Slyth brings home some fiery new dame, and out of nowhere, King Kriseri decides to send his men to us with a violent greeting?
I have to doubt that it was a coincidence. I lost friends in that attack.
Dashing along the long hallway, I look out over the courtyard, relieved to see that I’m alone before opening the door and sliding through.
At the beginning, I kept waiting for her to slip up. I knew that I wasn’t mistaken.
She had evil in her eyes, and she set about ensuring the fall of the kingdom… I could see what she was planning in the things she didn’t say, and the way she moved.
And somehow, now I don’t see that anymore.
Where did that malice go?
I’m a fantastic judge of character. I’m never wrong. I still don’t fully understand how it was there one day, and gone the next. I refuse to believe it was never there at all. Something changed her. It baffles me.
I rush up the spiral staircase, then change my pace as I reach the next hallway, trying not to give myself away through the sounds of my clanking armor.
If Lorelai could change, maybe anyone could. For better or worse. Maybe one of the guards who I’ve trusted for years is working against us. It’s a terrifying thought, but one I’m not totally able to dismiss.
I continue creeping through the castle, looking for any sign of something amiss, though I’m not quite sure who I even suspect at this point. Instead, I run into both Princess Aurora and Lorelai as I make my rounds. Sometimes they are together, sometimes they are alone, but the one thing I notice every time is the swelling of their round bellies.
It’s hard to look away from, and it unleashes a weird sort of craving within me. I feel my nethers stir at the sight, and a deep sense of shame overtakes me.
No, I think, silently punishing myself.These women are the mates of my compatriots.
I shake my head, then walk forward, now less concerned about being discovered. If anybody asks, I was just out for a stroll. I’m too distracted now to focus on a reconnaissance mission.
Trudging across the empty corridor and down the spiraling staircase, I hum an old melody to myself. I can’t carry a tune, but it distracts me a little anyway.
Still, it doesn’t do enough. The thought of Lorelai, filled with Slyth’s eggs, doesn’t leave my mind as I walk. I try to look out at the dark courtyard, watching the poorly mended fountain and finding all of the statue’s cracks that still leak water. Several pavos compete for a tree in front of me, screeching loudly while flying wildly into and off of its branches, their wingbeats overpowering the steady trickle of the fountain.
I’ve got to lay with somebody fast,I think to myself, trying to stifle my throbbing erections.I can’t keep having these thoughts.
I actually feel less effective as a male. Not only do my thoughts betray me, but I’m also losing my edge as a guard.
Though I was quick to slight both Slyth and Zalith for their choice of prospective mates, my mind still drawn to the old ways, I have to admit that they’ve both seemed more put-together since settling down.
Shaking my head and chuckling, I turn to walk away, back toward the guard station, where I’m expected to start the morning rounds.
“Yeah, right,” I say to myself, laughing. “I’m going to settle down with some human pet, just like Zalith and Slyth. Pull yourself together, Lasta.”
The cries of the pavo behind me die down as they all fly off. I turn the corner, eager to return to my duties and to guide rounds, when I hear screaming coming from the opposite direction.
Without hesitating, I rush through the corridors, trying to discern the source of the noise. The voice is familiar to me. Throwing open the door, I find Aurora, lying down on a bed in the birthing room. Sweat covers her brow, and her expression is vacant and pained.
“Z-Zalith,” she says. “Find Zalith.”
Her belly is swollen beyond my memory, and she clutches it tightly, squirming under the pressure. In her stomach, I can clearly see the outline of so many eggs, pent up and struggling for space.
I nod. Without bothering to consult my guards, I remember that he was walking the corridors and that I had seen him mere minutes earlier.
He sits in his study, nervously flipping through diplomatic documents. I can tell that his mind is running rampant with reflection as he turns over a letter opener, slamming it down on his desk.
“Prince Zalith,” I say urgently. “You need to come with me.”
