Her Brutal Alien (Alien Overlords)
"He's escalated to threats,” I observe. “He must have finished the construction phase.”
“His threats mean nothing," Rath says, though he does not sound as certain as he would like to. Krush's threats likely mean a great deal. Everybody in Megaris can hear them. The gossip on the streets over the past weeks has risen to an absolute fever-pitch.
“You should have killed him when you had the chance."
“I’m not going to kill the rightful heir to the korabi throne.”
Even he believes Krush deserves to retake the throne. It is a popular sentiment, shared by korabi, elites, and even much of the human scum, whose opinions do not matter anyway.
“It is going to be very difficult to wield power in a legitimate fashion if you are afraid of harming your enemy.”
“Krush is young and angry.”
“Krush tried to kill you once, and will again. You must learn to use the power you have at your fingertips, and not use those fingertips to caress the throne.”
“What would you have me do?”
"You are sitting in that seat, Rath. You should probably know what you’re supposed to do.”
I turn and I leave him with that to think about, escorting Margaret with me.
Six
Tusk
“Is this the part where you hurt me? I mean, to get a confession?”
Her question is rather brave.
I find this human's obedience in the face of almost certain destruction quite appealing. Margaret knows very well that her fate here is not to be an easy one, but she does not try to hide from it. Her reaction to Tyvian’s coddling was particularly fascinating, though I have to admit it shows she is more comfortable with cruelty than kindness.
She is broken in some deep and fundamental way, this little human of mine, and I will have to be very careful not to shatter her completely.
“I would love nothing more than to interrogate you brutally, but this city is in chaos, in no small part due to you. As you may have gathered, there is a rogue king to be brought to heel.”
“You have a lot of people and korabi to bring to heel, don’t you.”
“Yes. I do. The entirety of Megaris has always lived beneath my boot, whether they know it or not.”
“You’re very old.” It’s a statement, not an insult.
“Yes.”
“Wouldn't it be easier if you were king?”
“No. Kings are puppets. I know where true power lies.”
"Where does true power lie?” She asks these questions with a simplicity that I find charming. She does not simply wait for me to stop speaking so she can say whatever it was she wanted to say. She is actually curious, a quality which is in sad decline in these days of upstarts who believe they know absolutely everything.
“With those who remain regardless of who is in power. With those who handle the documents, do the deals, have the conversations, and fight the wars. A king is a figurehead who may grasp power from time to time, but these walls, this place, it hums with power constantly. That power must be directed and channeled, used and understood. Nobody who has sat on the throne for less than a decade can truly comprehend it.”
She is staring at me with wide but impressed eyes. I begin to get the feeling she might actually understand, this small human. There are very few korabi who know what it is to be me. I have been a pariah for a very long time, separated from the others due to the necessity of discretion. But I can tell this human anything and she is of no risk at all to me. She is, perhaps, the first true confidante I have had in many, many years.
“Here,” I say, leading her to one of the surveillance stations. “See for yourself the world in chaos.”
“It's like a television,” she says.
“Yes. That's exactly what it is like."
The surveillance screen reveals that Krush is disassembling Megaris using the very same techniques human scum have been employing for decades. His palace, at first a laughable though practical stronghold, is growing in size and majesty. A central tower is being erected. The korabi down there in Megaris are the outcast, the disaffected, and they have found a hero in Krush, the outcast king.
Margaret is still beside me, as I ordered her to be. She is very good at following orders, I must say. I expected her to make repeat attempts at escape as most humans would, but she seems to have absolutely no interest in leaving my side. “What does this look like to you?”
“It looks like a lot of buildings got taken down and put back together incorrectly.”
“That is a trash palace. It is the residence of Krush. This is the outcome of your assassination.”
“I…” she starts to deny the charge, then stops and instead lowers her eyes, looking fairly miserable. I wonder if she is attempting to manipulate me into feeling sorry for her, or doubting my assessment of her vicious, craven nature.