As duly proclaimed bastard and Cursed Queen, she assumed her responsibilities had lessened. And over the course of three weeks, they really have. Instead of her usual labor and endless hours of duty and learning—all she had to attend to was Jedediah's training. Her magic was strengthening, sealing itself in her. It was easier to drag the fire out of her hot, burning pit of it. Jedediah had began training her to use it for simple, easy things to make her familiar with it, like lighting the candles and burning them out. Sometimes he let her burn the letters she didn't like.

But overall, he was immensely pleased with her progress, and his never ending trivial questions commenced every day.

It felt... pleasant. Her magic was a friend to her, almost. It was alive and thriving.

For the first week, she struggled with what she wanted it to do. Sometimes her power wanted to aim for Jedediah and not the flowers. Sometimes it wanted to turn into a shield and not a sword. It was stubborn too, sometimes it didn't even want to go out.

But, soon enough, she and her magic had reached a sort of mutual agreement. She sat down with it. Even after her training, with so much time for herself, she began to learn that her magic was a feisty piece of shit, too. A lot like her. They communicated. They brought middle ground. Her magic would react to how she would react to things, and Revy also realized that her magic was an overprotective nanny.

When she stubbed her toe, it sent the table burning.

She reprimanded her fire a lot, jumped in to a cold bath as some form of punishment. A maid summoned Micah in to see if she was sane.

So when punishment sent her fire into a tantrum, she sighed and rubbed her temples. Drank water. And then she rambled. Taught it. Talked to it until there was this strange form of communication—fire would appear on her right for yes, on her left for no. Until this other, lovely magic had begun to breathe as she did, beat with her heart and course in her veins with blood. So by the third week, she was beginning to build a solid foundation between her and her fire.

Her fire.

And for these three weeks, Revy was experiencing what it was like to be as normal as royalty could get. Have lessons. Eat. Roam the castle. Sleep with women. Eat. Train. Frolic around the capital.

All was going very well.

Except for the fact that there were rumors Zacchaeus brought with him. There were rumors, whispered behind closed doors and said so softly in fear of being reprimanded.

"The King is struggling to stop a rebellion in the south!"

"Really?" she muttered, putting down the report he found for her. It was the middle of the night, they were all in their bed clothes. Zacchaeus managed to reached her and Micah by the castle's secret passageways, his eyes rabid and candle in his hand flickering. "A rebellion."

"It's a very well thought rebellion," Micah murmured. He pointed to the map. "They're cutting off the water supply." He looked at Revy. "Probably in alliance to you."

"Symbolic."

"The leader remains unidentified," Zacchaeus explained softly. "But the attacks on the King's guards there have been lethal." He spread out pictures, illustrations. Revy blanched. A stone to the head. Drowning. And most often, farming tools punched through the gut.

"The south," she murmured. "The farmers?"

"The crops have been dying," Zacchaeus said. "As stated, they've been keeping their water supply low. They refuse to use their magic."

Micah sighed heavily, slumping in his chair. "This is a lot to process."

"Fucking tell me about it," Revy muttered. She skimmed the report again. "What is their motive?"

"To get you on the throne," Zacchaeus said. "They've been waving your banner, setting the King's flag aflame."

"And if this continues, if their refusal to farm and to tend to our water supply continues..." She let out a breath. "Then the whole kingdom starves, correct?"

"Absolutely." He nodded, biting his cheek. "They're our top suppliers. And even if the King manages to import or to find alternatives... It won't be enough to feed everyone. They will starve, and so shall we."

Revy picked at her nails, biting the inside of her cheek. "Fuck," was all she managed to say.

"This has been going on for three weeks," Zacchaeus pressed. "Soon enough, this lack of food will reach us, and we're on the brink of a civil war."

Micah snorted. "Fuck. Can't I deny the throne and get it over with?" He poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.

Revy and Zacchaeus stared at him.

Quiet.

She licked her lips, trying to choose her words very carefully. "You could, but..."

"It wouldn't be smart," Zacchaeus offered. He laced his fingers, placed them on the table. "If you denied the throne, there wouldn't be anything keeping you alive."

Micah choked on the water he was drinking.

Revy winced and patted him on the back. "Shit, Micah."

"Excuse me?" he wheezed out as he straightened, looking at Zacchaeus with a sort of frantic, rabid look. "Did you just say... there wouldn't be anything keeping me... alive?"

"Yes," Zacchaeus said coolly. "I did."

He threw his hands up. "Well then, fuck me!"

"Keep your voice down!" Revy hissed.

"What the fuck does that mean anyway?" he demanded, slamming his hands on the table. Their glasses rattled and water sloshed. "Do you both know something I don't?"

"Yes." Revy rubbed her temples, sent gentle flames to lick away the water. "I thought you figured it out."

"Apparently we shouldn't give you too much credit," Zacchaeus muttered.

Micah frowned.

"Father will kill you if you deny the throne," Revy said, "because it serves him no purpose to keep you alive. Worse, he knows I will have you as an ally if the time has to come." Micah opened his mouth to speak, but she carried on. "We both know there is a dark, grand illegal conspiracy happening in the Council and with our royals. We know they take our money, but we aren't sure where it is being sent off to. And you're alive because..."

"Because...?" The room was hotter. Micah's eyes were dark in and eerie in the candlelight, his jaw tensed. "Tell me."

"Because you keep me from the throne," she said. "That's... that's what they want."

His frown deepened, the crease in his forehead pulling itself taut. "I don't understand."

"You're too kind," Zacchaeus said when her voice faltered. "Too transparent. Too good."

Micah scoffed. "So only bad people are allowed on the throne?"

Zacchaeus sighed heavily. "Only bad people get to live while on the throne."

"Right." Micah rubbed his hands together. Trying to calm himself. "They're going to kill me either way. I see it now."

"That's not—"

"No, let me fucking finish," he hissed. Zacchaeus stood down, jaw clamped shut. "They want me to keep Revy away, you said it yourself. But they're going to kill me once I sit on that throne." His hands were shaking but his back was rigid. "I'm too kind. I'd be a weak king." He said it without any emotion, his voice steady. "I'd be a weak king for the festering fucking snake pit our politics has become. So they'll kill me, to put someone of their own to rule. For this dark, grand conspiracy to stay in the damn dark."

Silence.

Revy was breathing hard. "Micah..."

"You didn't think that far ahead?" he muttered. "Of course you did, Revy. Don't give me bullshit."

She tried to speak, but her voice faltered when he looked at her. She had never really seen Micah like this. He was always such an easy-going, gentle boy, even when they were growing up. She knew for a fact that he was very delicate with a male lover, too. He was always very goofy despite how many beatings their father put them through. His coping mechanisms were to laugh and to control. But right now...  she was faced with this tight-jawed, scowling Micah with the dark eyes and the intensity.

He looked at Revy. "Right, Revy?"

She couldn't look away.

"Yes," she said, her voice small.

"Then that's settled," he said. He stood up abruptly. The table rattled and the candles flickered. The shadows on his face made him look old. So, so achingly old. "I want more guards stationed at my door," he said to Zacchaeus. "Double the security. No word gets out about the rebellion. I want updates to me and Revy immediately and with full discretion."

Revy had never seen him like. Never.

Zacchaeus nodded. "Yes, Micah."

And in that moment, his name sounded like Your Highness

--

WEEEEELLL this update came... late...

and for that,, im sorry!!! but originally this was 4k words long, and i didnt realize it was 4k words long so ASJDKASHDAKJS

anyway,,, hello to my new readers, if there are any!!! y'all are awesome and i can't wait for us to support each other:>

that's all i have to say for now!! i'll update in the next 2 - 3 days, loves!!

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- yannah:>