It's now been six months since Everly decided to conquer Winstead. Unexpected developments have kept her busier than she expected, but that's fine because now she's got a plan that will surely work.
All her plans always turn out well. That's just how it goes when you're a winner!
The air was still heavy with winter's chill when Everly appeared before the king of Winstead to present her terms.
Everly was amused by the naked hostility of the sentries who guarded the entrance to the king's throne room. Neutral expressions were surely expected on the faces of those who guarded royalty. These two, however, burned with hatred and killing intent, and they weren't shy about projecting it her way. It didn't seem very professional at all. The soldiers who watched over the gates of Buckingham palace on Earth would put them to shame.
Everly was about to comment on their lack of self-discipline when she suddenly recognized one of them. A surly, black-bearded man dressed in gray armor who wielded a saber in each hand. A moment later, she also remembered the younger one who stood at his left. These two weren't mere guard dogs. They were Sword Kings.
"Uh, Gregoth the Roaring Wind and Kenner the Last Sight, right?" she asked them politely. "I think we met when I was sieging Karthold. Heh, that was a pretty hectic day, as I recall. How've you been? I see you're still with the Ten Blades. Well, the Six Blades, anyway. Five and a half if you count what I did to Michus the Bold. I hope he's adjusting well to the prosthetics."
Gregor spat on the stone floor while continuing to stare balefully at her, never breaking eye contact as he did so. It was Kenner who responded to her. "We see you, Everly Skolder," the young man said grimly. "And we eagerly await the chance to avenge our fallen brothers."
"If you keep speaking to me in that tone of voice, your chance will come sooner than you think," she replied with the gentlest of smiles.
"I don't see a sword at your hip, monster," Kenner said as his hand began drifting downwards to his own scabbarded weapon. "That was perhaps a foolish choice on your behalf."
Everly shrugged and gestured at her outfit. Today she wore a beautifully tailored emerald dress that paired nicely with her braided golden hair and hazel eyes, topped with a long fur coat that she wore over her shoulders. "A sword would have been overkill with this look," she explained to him. "Not that I'd need one for someone at your level of skill."
Kenner glowered fiercely at her for that flippant remark, but Everly didn't care. She was a rare talent who could use the internal energy of a swordsman known as Harada, as well as the magic of the elements; but her skills at both dwarfed the populace of this world. Her staggering power bordered on the edge of godhood and had given her an ego to match her talents. There were few that she respected and none that she feared.
"How many lives would be spared if we killed you here and now?" Kenner asked her.
Everly shrugged her shoulders indifferently and waited to see if the warrior would try to follow through on his threat. When neither of them acted, she smiled again and walked past them through the corridor they guarded.
A fat white rat wearing a necktie, a bowler cap, and a silver monocle, climbed out of her coat pocket, and scrambled up her arm to perch on her shoulder. He yawned and began pawing away at his whiskers before asking, "How come you didn't rip that punk's head off, boss?"
"Because he's about to become one of my loyal subjects, Matty," Everly explained to him. "His anger was just grief over being unable to protect his friends, so he wanted to vent at me a little. We can't blame him for that, now, can we?"
Matty gave it a moment's thought then shook his head dismissively. "Nah, he was just being a punk. Trying to look tough in front of his pal. You should have gutted him on the spot. Next time, let me do it. Colostomy bags teach respect."
"Mattie, you're incorrigible," Everly said fondly before giving him a gentle scratch beneath his chin. The rat's back leg began thumping on her shoulder in approval.
Matty, originally named Ratty, was the recently created owner and operator of Everly's personal dimension of torture, The Rat Room. There he led an enormous gang of sentient rats in inflicting unimaginable horrors on the various people who Everly and her associates wanted to see suffer more than they wanted them dead. Because he did such a splendid job and had such a charmingly hostile personality to everyone other than herself or Titania, Everly had taken a shine to him and promoted him to the role of her chief bodyguard.
It wasn't a position that needed to be filled, but it made Everly's followers feel better knowing that she always had backup with her. Carter, her chief attendant, insisted that she needed to take more of a hands-off approach in dealing with the rabble now that she had openly declared herself the empress of the world; Everly had to admit that the goblin had a point. Besides, when it came to dispensing horrific death in the blink of an eye, Matty was second only to herself. To put it mildly, he was a vicious little rat bastard.
She really liked having him around.
A third guard in white and silver armor stood at the final door that led to the throne room. He was younger than his colleagues, but Everly felt a familiar sensation of power in this one that the other two lacked and that made her curious about him. Everly was a tall woman who stood nearly six feet high, a height the guard matched. His hair and facial features weren't entirely dissimilar to her own. In fact, he looked quite a bit like her half-sister, Claudia, and her father…
Ah. So, this was where he'd been.
"Caleb Vae-Es Belsar, as I live and breathe," she said to her half-brother.
"It's an odd feeling to be recognized by a stranger," he replied before giving her a bow. "The king and his council await you beyond this door, your Majesty."
"Majesty, eh?" Everly smirked. "So, my little brother chooses to recognize his big sister's title? It feels nice to have that settled early."
"Father assures me that it would serve my future better if I stood with you instead of against you," Caleb replied. "He's a hopeless hedonist, but his decision making is rarely irrational."
"Does rationality preoccupy your thoughts?" Everly wondered.
"Since birth, I've been a creature of purest logic," Caleb replied. "The flames of a volatile nature hold little appeal to me."
"That has to be difficult, doesn't it?" Everly asked him. "No warmth without fire."
"I make do in the cold."
"It's strange though," Everly said. "I can feel it in you. You share father's gifts. How can a man who eats emotions deny himself his greatest source of power?"
"The challenge alone sustains me," Caleb said.
"I see," Everly said thoughtfully. "I want to speak with you later. Present yourself to me when my meeting with the king is concluded."
"Only if my liege permits it," Caleb said.
"King Septus doesn't matter anymore, Caleb," Everly said dismissively. "It's my face that's going to be on all the portraits and the printed currency. Remember what dad said? Stand behind me, not before me."
"You're certainly a forceful person, aren't you, sister?" Caleb asked as he stood aside to let her pass.
"I always get what I want," she said simply. "It's the natural way of things."
"That's not the healthiest mindset to possess," he said frankly.
"You think so?" she asked him. "It's done wonders for me. Then again, I am a goddess in the making."
With that said, she swept past him.
Caleb. She wondered what sort of person he was. Was he kind like her sister, selfish like her father, or a fool like her eldest brother Aiden had been? Or was he like her? Someone she could at last relate to? The possibilities intrigued her and made her impatient to get this meeting over with.
"Everly Skolder, the Empress of Winstead, self-proclaimed, now stands before his royal Majesty, Septus Sun Magnus, rightful ruler of this continent, and the anointed light of this realm!" shouted the herald who stood in the corner of the room.
"Heya, hiya, howdy!" Everly said with a cheerful wave of her hand, while Matty crouched on her shoulder and sniffed contemptuously at the gathered nobles, warriors, and councilors who stood in the room staring ferociously at them. None more fiercely than the black-haired murderer who sat arrogantly on his golden throne, looking at her with eyes that blazed with power and suspicion.
Her eyes eagerly met his and in that moment, it was as though no one else existed.
"So, you really dared to appear before me, girl," Septus said with a soft voice that perfectly matched the intensity of his aura. "I suspected you were insane, but I didn't expect the evidence to be so overwhelming."
All thoughts of Caleb were immediately pushed away as Everly gleefully beheld the hateful tyrant that she decided would become her future husband.
"I told you before Septus," Everly said as she casually studied her fingernails. "If you wanted to speak with me, you only had to offer an invitation. Why it took you so long, I'll never know."
"You stand before the throne of Winstead!" shouted an outraged old man in expensive looking robes. "How dare you speak so informally to your rightful king! Kneel and beg his forgiveness—his forgiveness—his forgiveness…uhhh…"
The old man suddenly fell onto the marbled tiles of the throne room. He landed on his face with a painful-sounding crunch after which his body began to momentarily tremble before falling still. Another councilor cautiously poked his neck with a hesitant finger before shouting in a terrified voice that the other man was dead.
"You can't prove I did that," Everly quickly said.
"To arms!" shouted an enthusiastic guard. "Protect the king!"
"Are these morons being serious?" Matty asked Everly in a disbelieving voice.
"I believe they are, yeah," Everly replied in an amused tone.
"Seriously, can I just eat these chumps? They're so snack-worthy."
"Matty," Everly said as she gave one of his whiskers a stern flick. "Today is for negotiating. Also, we don't judge someone's value by how tasty we think they look. We're better than that."
"Heh, maybe you are, but I'm simpler than that," the rat said sadly. "I'm just a dumb rat after all."
"Oh, hush, you," Everly said as she held Mattie against her chest and began to coo at him and nudge her nose against his. Despite how much she valued the precious little thing, Matty had issues with low self-esteem. "You're not dumb, you're wonderful and anyone that says otherwise is just being hurtful for no reason. Just remember that only my opinion matters and that anyone who says otherwise is a fool seeking their own destruction. Okay, little guy?"
"Okay, boss," Matt said happily. "You're always right, after all."
"That's why I rule, and others must obey," Everly said after giving his head one final pat.
When she looked away from her pet, Everly saw that she was now in a circle of guards standing around her, each pointing a spear in her direction. From his throne, King Septus regarded her with a raised eyebrow.
"Why were you speaking with such seriousness to that rat?" he asked curiously.
"Because he asked me for permission to kill everyone here and I had to dissuade him from doing so," answered Everly. "Matty is wonderfully loyal to me, but sometimes he expresses that loyalty in a way that causes survivors to wake up screaming in the middle of the night, fearful that he's still in the room with them. Sometimes, he still is."
"And how would a rat go about instilling that level of terror in a human being?" asked the king.
In response, Everly turned towards the guard whose cries had urged the others into action. Then she whispered the word, eat, into Matty's ear and gave the rat a gentle underhanded throw in his direction. What left her hand had been an adorable, fat little rat. What landed on the guard and began screaming in murderous fury after crushing him beneath his weight…was not.
Instead, a massive mound of writhing muscle and sharpened bone that stood over ten feet tall, towered over his prey. He lifted the squirming guard up towards his fanged maw, as the other knights stood there, dumbfounded in terror. Then he began to swallow the man, headfirst.
Before he could bring his jaws together, Everly's voice cut in. "Matty? I changed my mind, sweetie."
Mattie grunted in disappointment but nodded his understanding. Then he hocked his throat and spat the young guard out, sending him sliding across the floor leaving a trail of vile mucus in his wake that set him crashing against a wall. When Everly clicked her tongue at him, he hopped in her direction and landed in her arms, a small rat once more.
"I love you so much," Everly purred happily as Matt basked in her affection.
"Put your weapons away," King Septus ordered his guards. "It would appear that we have the numbers but lack the power."
"Wise is the king who humbles himself before the divine," Everly said approvingly.
"I doubt very much that I'm being graced with the presence of a god," Septus said. "More likely you're a mutation of some unprecedented sort. Don't be too pleased with yourself."
"Avoiding being pleased with myself has been the struggle of my life, your Majesty," Everly said airily. "I was miraculous from birth, and time has only increased the numerous gifts that life has bestowed upon me."
"Humble too, it would seem," observed the king.
"I've never understood the point of humility," Everly shrugged. "I know it's supposedly good manners but all it does is make those weaker and less capable feel a little better about themselves. Why should I concern myself with the feelings of the unworthy?"
As Everly spoke, she slowly approached Septus on his throne, stopping just before the steps that led to its dais.
"You must understand how I feel," she continued. "I'm hardly any worse than you are. Ever since you were a child, people have whispered in your ear that you were chosen by the gods, that your reign was anointed by heaven itself. Isn't it a national crime for a commoner to speak to you without permission?"
"A fact that hasn't slowed your approach one bit," Septus replied. "But I suppose I'm one of the weaklings that deserves no voice in your presence."
"Ah, so you know I'm baseborn," Everly smirked. "Who told you? I bet it was my father. He's such a gossipy little bitch."
"Count Marcis was very forthcoming about you in our correspondence," the king admitted with a frown. "Frankly, some of the things he described in his letters sound too farfetched to be true."
"He didn't exaggerate a single thing," Everly said. "I really am that incredible."
"He warned me that you were arrogant and emotionally unstable, and that the slightest misstep could set you off if I wasn't careful."
"THAT'S A FUCKING LIE!" Everly shrieked angrily.
"So, I see," Septus said amicably.
"I'm going to have to have a long discussion with that old fool," Everly growled angrily. "God, why does he do that? I swear he likes setting me off on purpose. Is this just a dad thing? Do all dads like poking the bear? That sort of parenting just builds resentment over time! I mean, does he really think I won't kill him just because we're related? Ask Aiden how that worked out for him."
At the mention of Aiden's name, for some reason, Matty began to chuckle. Everly briefly wondered what that was about before moving on.
"My father's little jokes aside, I'm pleased to see you've become as curious about me as I've been about you," she said to the king. "I also hope you've learned other things about me that meet your approval."
At this, King Septus frowned deeply. "Lady Skolder, I have never been a man who has enjoyed banter. My nature is to get to the heart of the matter as quickly as possible. Whatever it is you want, just tell me, and stop disguising your intent with coy wordplay."
"Marry me," she said flatly.
"CLEAR THE ROOM," Septus shouted.
After the astonished guards and councilors finished removing themselves from their presence, King Septus removed the golden circlet from his brow and placed it on the throne. Then he sat on the steps of the dais and rummaged through his pockets for a moment before producing a small pipe, into which he poured some suspicious smelling dried herbs. Next, he lit it with a verbal command and inhaled deeply. As he puffed out the smoke, he visibly relaxed, as though it had just relieved him of a good deal of mental strain. Then he offered the pipe to Everly.
"Eh?" he said.
Everly studied the offered pipe carefully, then shrugged and accepted it. One deep puff later, she felt as though her thoughts had drilled little holes throughout the top of her skull and had escaped into the air so that they could dance throughout the room in the form of giggling rainbows. It was nice.
"What the hell is this?" Everly laughed as she took a seat on the steps beside him.
"I have no idea. It's expensive, though, and I always want more of it," Septus replied in a surprisingly light tone of voice.
"Who's your supplier?" she asked him.
"The dobs? Nobs? Some little gang based out on the docks. I'm told they're growing more powerful by the day. With a product as refined as this, it's no wonder."
"The Hobs Bay Hobbs?" asked Everly.
"Oh, yes, that's them. They're the ones," Septus nodded. "How do you know of them?"
"I'm very familiar with their leader," Everly replied. "She's like a piece of my own heart."
"Ah, small world, then," Septus nodded before taking another puff from the pipe. "I'm probably going to have to outlaw this substance. It brings you too much pleasure without any negative, lingering effects. The temple wouldn't like that."
"Didn't I crush the temple months ago?" Everly asked after sampling the pipe again. "I remember a lot of dead priests and knights. I'm pretty sure I got one of those paladins too. I can't remember which one. He sure screamed a lot."
"Meh, you can't destroy a faith just by burning down its buildings. It's as useless as cutting off a mole that's already taken root in your flesh," Septus said. "So, tell me, child. What's this nonsense about getting married?"
"I'm going to be eighteen in a few months," Everly frowned. "I believe I've reached a point in my life where being called a child now feels condescending."
"That's fair enough, I suppose," said Septus. "But Everly, I'm soon going to be forty-three, myself. And despite my reputation, I'm not some lusty libertine looking to slake his urges on young flesh. Beautiful as you are, I have no interest in you."
"That can't possibly be true," Everly said in astonishment. "Daddy, have you seen how I look in this dress?"
"Now you're just being obnoxious," Septus said curtly. "What put this idea in your head to begin with?"
"Well," Everly began. "I have a sizeable portion of the population under my control. They love me, they worship me, they'll do anything I ask! That's a good thing. But the rest, no matter what I do, keep resisting and resisting. Your family has never done anything for the masses except exploit and deprive them, but for some reason they'll kiss the ground you walk on. It's so aggravating."
"My family is all they've ever known. You can't expect them all to leap gratefully to your side just because you're a self-styled liberator," Septus smirked.
"Well, that sure would have been nice," Everly said. "But instead of just doing as I wished, they keep rebelling and throwing areas I've already conquered into chaos. Chaos is only fun when I'm the one causing it! You know, when I began this campaign, I expected to win it within a week! It's incredible how the common people can just upend your expectations at will. Now here we are, nearly six months later."
"I don't suppose your seemingly inexhaustible reservoir of eldritch horrors is nearing its limit?" Septus asked her hopefully.
"Nah, the one thing I'll never run out of is troops," Everly said. "But listen, I'm actually trying to keep casualties down! It'd be the easiest thing just to kill everyone off and rule a continent of the dead, but I'm not trying to be the Lich Queen. I want to be the Empress! So, before I completely lose my patience, I want to try something else."
"Marrying me and giving the holdouts the appearance of continuance?" Septus said.
"Exactly that!" Everly beamed. "I'm glad you catch on quick. Septus, think of it. There's a lot to gain here. Your family and loved ones get to stay alive. No, even better, I'll grant you genuine immortality! Not that messy imitation of life that Primus Godwell and his daughters mistook for eternity, but the real deal. An existence free of uncertainty and fear."
Primus sat quietly for a moment before saying, "And in return you'll gain my throne, my subjects, and—"
"And I'll finally get my OCD scratched regarding this kingdom," Everly said happily. "It's a good deal. I'll even start by making you twenty years younger right here and now."
"You're making a lot of assumptions about my character, Lady Skolder," Septus said darkly. "Do I truly appear so loathsome as to trade the future of my nation for the promise of eternal youth?"
"Yes," said Everly flatly. "Septus, you killed your own twin brother to secure your throne. The war you ignited caused suffering across the entire continent. You're a vainglorious psychopath who'll do anything to get ahead. Why else would I make you such an offer if I didn't recognize you as being a kindred spirit?"
"No one speaks to me like that, girl," he warned her. In response, Everly laughed uproariously.
"I bet you wish they would, though!" she said merrily. "All these years you've spent pretending to live in regret of doing the deed. Of betraying your family, of causing all that carnage. Of having to offer a toast to his memory on your every birthday, just to hear your advisors say, you did what you had to do, your Majesty. I bet you've wanted to scream for years that you'd do it again in a heartbeat!"
"How do you know that?" he asked her. "How can you possibly know that?"
Now Everly stood. She then walked down a few steps and turned to face him. Although Septus sat above her, it seemed her very presence loomed over him; a titanic figure in the flickering lights of the throne room that made him seem less than nothing in the eyes of the world.
"Oh, Septus, all I ever had to do was look into your eyes. A murderess knows her own kind. You're exactly how I used to be. I was once someone who was constrained and denied the freedom to live as I wished by the rules of my old world. Just like you, I wanted nothing more than to gloat to all the good people about what sort of rotten bastard was hidden in their midst. I'm utter trash and I love it! And I think you could learn to love it too. A life without necessity. A life without capitulation to the greater good. A life by my side…who knows what delights you'll finally be able to indulge in? All you need to do is take my hand."
With that, Everly held her palm out before the king, knowing that her pitch had been perfect. How could he possibly resist? Man, I'm getting so good at this, she thought smugly to herself. Maybe I should introduce the concept of seminars to this planet, just so everyone can see how great I am at managing other people.
Before Septus could take Everly's hand, the light suddenly vanished from the room, covering it in darkness. Then the light suddenly returned in a disorienting explosion of brightness that overwhelmed her vision and caused her to cry out in pain.
"Boss, are you okay?" Matty asked in alarm.
"Just give me a moment," Everly said as her vision quickly recovered.
"Graaah," gasped Septus. His voice sounded thick with some substance that cloyed at it. When Everly turned to him, she saw that a blade had been thrust through the back of his neck, and now jutted from his throat as his body spasmed in the air before becoming still.
Someone appeared behind him. A large, masculine figure wearing a concealing all-white outfit wrapped tightly around his body that obscured every inch of him. Another shimmer of light revealed two other similarly clad people who stood close to Everly, trapping her between them.
"Do you bastards even realize what you've done?" Everly asked them as a tremendous killing rage began to surge within her.
"And what exactly is that, oh abhorrent one?" asked one of them in a confident voice.
Everly furiously gestured towards the king's body. "He was MINE!" she roared.
"Have no fear, monster," said the one to her left. "For you'll soon join him—"
Everly's openhanded palm slammed directly against the masked figure's face as she smashed him into the wall, leaving a large blood-spattered crack behind his head. She then tightened her grip and began running down the length of the room, still pressing his head against the wall while using the friction generated by her speed to mash her victim's skull into a vivid crimson streak of gory nonsense.
When the remnants of his head began dripping through her fingers and caused his body to slip from her grasp, Everly turned to face the remaining two assassins and glared at them.
"I bet I only need one of you alive to get the answers I want," she said as she trailed a bloody finger down her cheek. "So, now we're going to play a little game called, please, please don't kill me, to see which one of you gets to be the lucky winner."
Their bodies tensed as she began to approach them.
"Try to do your best, okay?" she told them.