5
🗡️ CAPTAIN ZAIRO 🗡️
My steps fall heavily on the palace's polished floors. Quick and purposeful.
I turn left and right down the halls I walked as a child. Not much has changed in the palae. The ceilings are still high, settled in the heavens. The walls are lined with giant murals of the royals painted by the best artists on Zolan.
Statues of great men and women are scattered everywhere, made of stone and bejeweled with gems. In childhood, I always found them creepy. The way they seemed to leer in the darkness. Now, twenty years later, they irritate me. I want to shatter them into a million pieces.
I'd rather be on a battlefield than here.
"Captain Zairo," Lord Pierre greets me. He has always been the queen's favorite ass-kisser.
His painted lips are pursed as he scans me from head to toe, his gaze lingering on my muddy boots. I don't wear silk like another noble man would. I wear fur from beasts that I've killed. Beasts that would inspire piss to trail down the leg of the high and mighty.
I wear a black pelt and brown-hide pants. Matted, muddy, and murderous. There is some green blood splattered on my forearm, contrasting against my crimson red skin. Another person would have been denied entry, but Pierre knows better. Either because of my high status or my taste for violence, it doesn't matter. He won't stop me.
I will not change into a costume for the queen. I'm a Captain, not a clown in this circus. While war tears through Zolan, the royals are only fazed by gossip and fruitless politics. They wear the finest silk, walking down the halls that are just as decorated as them.
"How blessed we are to see you. Perhaps you would like to rest and freshen up before seeing the queen?"
I've traveled hard and fast for two nights to reach the palace, and I will not waste any more time in this haunted place. I miss the wilderness. It calls for me.
I hook a thumb under my utility belt. "Get on with it, Pierre."
"Are you sure, Captain? A—"
My growl tears through the rest of his sentence, promising to haul him into the nearest statue.
"Right this way, Captain," Pierre relents.
He straightens his poet shirt that's meticulously tucked into his leather riding pants. Then he turns, his long black braid swinging.
I walk past him, refusing to follow him. A Captain follows no one.
"I know the way," I say. After all, I spent many years in this soulless hell.
I enter the Queen's leisure room, not knocking because she's expecting me. I find her by an open window, stroking a brush across a canvas.
She smiles at me, the lines on her face deeper than the last time I saw her two years ago.
"My dearest cousin," she says, standing from her stool and approaching me in her long, shapeless silver dress. She doesn't dare to come too close. Wouldn't want any of the blood or mud clinging to the barbarian to infect her.
She smiles, but isn't able to keep her nose from curling. Her acting has limits.
We are blood, family. I serve in her military. And yet she's disgusted by me. How typical.
"Queen," I reply, my voice flat. Denying her the fake sweetness she forces into her voice.
"What a pleasure it is to see you again."
"Likewise," I reply, running a hand down my forearm. A gesture that means respect among the commoners. But here, in the palace, it's considered disrespectful. The Queen shouldn't be saluted with such lowly gestures.
Her mask for a second, revealing anger. Her eyes narrow on my forearm. The dozen hairpins in her updo tremble as rage washes over her.
"Oh, my apologies. I forgot my manners after living mingling with commoners for so long," I tell her. Playing into the image that she has of me: A savage.
She might be the Queen and not a fan of me but she can't strip me of my title as Captain. I earned it. My men would rebel if I were replaced.
She gestures towards the canvas. "What do you think of my art piece?"
There's a blue flower painted on the canvas. Distasteful. The diabolical flower has caused famine across Zolan and causing war, but she's making art out of it.
"Why did you summon me?" I ask, ignoring her question.
"I've been speaking with all the Captains to commend them for their work. A cure for the blue flower is finally underway."
I already know this. Did she make me leave the camp to tell me useless information?
I cross my arms over my chest. Just to keep my hands away from the sword sheathed at my hip. I wouldn't kill her. But I might slash her wig off her head.
She picks up her brush and examines the wet tip. "But the end of the blue flower does not mean the end of the war. I've heard that a new player has joined the ranks. A powerful man conspiring to overthrow me." She laughs. "Could you believe that? How barbaric."
Then I suppose we are barbarians too, because our bloodline overthrew the Terran people centuries ago. Star-crossed people. A new race that mixed with Zolan. They nearly went extinct because of my bloodline's greed.
"I've heard reports of this man," I reply. "It's already being investigated."
She fastens her eyes on me, her hold on the brush tightening. "He must be dealt with priority. That's why I'm speaking with you Captains personally. These whispers of overthrowing must be squashed at once! Request whatever resources you need to get it done. I will deliver them."
The ferocity she shows is interesting. She wasn't this adamant when the blue flower began terrorizing her citizens. Only when her throne is threatened does she unleash her claws.
"I need nothing. Like I said, I'll look into it. Give me your latest reports and I'll be on my way."
"You should stay the night. I'm sure you must be tired from riding."
I'd sleep outside before I rest my head under this roof. "No. I can't delay. My camp is waiting for me."
"But I haven't seen you in so long and we're famil—"
My glare silences her.
We are not family. I worked for what I have. She was given a kingdom and has done little for it in the decades that she has been queen. I have no respect for this woman who decided to build a new wing for her palace while her people were starving. A woman that refuses to declare an heir in fear she'll start the clock to being replaced.
The door opens. There's no knock.
I glance over my shoulder and see Captain Kill'an. I last saw him six months ago. We rarely cross paths as his camp is a week worth of riding away.
The Queen claps her hands. "How fantastic. Now Captain Kill'an is here too. We must at least have dinner together."
"Captain Kill'an," I acknowledge him. He looks as enthusiastic as I do to be here. Undoubtedly, he's irritated to be apart from his camp and the human female I've heard he has settled with.
He nods his head in greeting.
(Captain Kill'an's story is complete on Amazon Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/author/elainewaters - will not come to Wattpad or Inkitt )
"I'm sure you were bouncing in your boots at the thought of seeing our queen again." I brush my hand down my forearm. He understands the reference and chuckles.
The Queen clears her throat. "I will brief Captain Kill'an, and then retire to the dining room. YOu do not have to retire in the palace tonight, but please join me for dinner."
I sigh. I suppose dinner wouldn't hurt. It would spare me the trouble of stopping my journey to hunt.
One thing is certain: I'm riding all night to return to my camp. It has already been two days. I'm sure all sorts of trouble has stirred up in my absence.
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