“All the family is here.” I smile triumphantly. Rath, Lyric, and Krush. Me and Margaret. What a powerful party this is. “If the six of us could put aside our differences, we would be powerful beyond compare. I hope at the end of this meal, we have come to an understanding.”
Usually, these meals take place with a certain level of jocularity. This one is somewhat muted and for good reason. Krush is at the head of the table, where the hereditary king of Megaris is entitled to sit. It is a position of honor, somewhat tarnished by the chains holding him to the chair. He has not come here of his own will. He is a prisoner, and yet he remains king. It is a complex situation.
“Your wife and infant will join us soon, I am sure, King Krush.”
“Die,” Krush growls.
"I have patrols searching for them. They will not hide for long. Infants are terrible at camouflage and subterfuge.”
“Tyvian is with them,” Krush argues.
“Of course he is. That korabi never met a damsel in distress he didn’t roll over like a puppy for. I’m sure he’ll die defending them.”
Rath is not pleased. I can see him glowing with rage, though he does not speak. Lyric is tight with nerves and rage, and she too stays quiet. Everybody here is being held hostage in one way or another.
“Of course, we are here to punish several of our number. Krush and Margaret, naturally.”
“The time for mercy may have arrived,” Lyric suggests. “Your korabi insistence on…"
“Quiet your human, Rath, or I will quiet her for you.”
“Tusk. Enough. You have Krush. There’s no more war to worry about…” Rath attempts to reason with Tusk.
“I have a captive king sulking at the head of the table, and a human mate who disobeyed and betrayed me. I have an unpopular pretender on the throne, and a missing jailer. I have a table full of miscreants, none of whom understand how seriously you should be taking yourselves and your lives.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Krush growls. “I’m going to kill you slowly, Tusk, and then I am going to kill you, Rath. The throne of Megaris will be mine, and you will be a distant memory, a footnote in our history.”
He is beginning to sound like a king should. But there is still a petulance to Krush I do not enjoy and which will not do. He has yet to learn true humility.
“Tusk, sir, please,” Margaret speaks softly. “Let them go.”
“Let them go?"
“You cannot hold everybody hostage like this. So many have died. There is a baby and a woman out there scared and alone. They should be here with their family. I know you're trying to bring Megaris together, but you can’t force it.”
“Yes. I can. And even if it should prove that I cannot, I can enjoy the attempt.”
Rath stands up. "The human is right. This is a waste of our time.”
“Sit down, boy.”
He sits down as quickly as he stood up. I see his human give him a curious look. There are so very many secrets at this table of ours, including the one Rath would prefer I never, ever share.
“We are going to have a nice dinner because, like it or not, we represent the leaders of Megaris. The city depends on us to keep it stable, which means not exploding parts of it at random.”
“Why don’t you take the throne if you believe you know how to rule the city?” Margaret makes what might seem to be a sensible suggestion.
“Because order must be maintained. Order among the korabi, the elites, and even the scum from which some of us emerged.” I look at Lyric, who makes what I imagine must be an insulting gesture.
“This is not going to work, Tusk. You cannot chain a korabi and force him to be the king you want him to be,” Rath says.
“Of course I can. It will be even easier to do so when his mate and child are in my custody and at my mercy.”
Krush growls and rattles his shackles. I am sure he would love nothing more than to rip them off and attack me, but he knows as well as I do that this is necessary.
“If you want them back, all you need to do is resemble a decent king and not destroy the palace in a fit of rage against Rath and myself.”
“You are not in charge of me, Tusk. Your days of puppeting power are over. I will do as I please. I will kill Rath as soon as I have anything resembling a chance, and I will kill you thereafter.”
Margaret starts to cry. This dinner is no longer feeling like the triumph I planned it to be. I had imagined I would lord my power over them and enjoy crushing their respective wills. But there is only rebellion. Margaret’s tears further dampen my spirits. It is time to make an ultimatum.