Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK II - Scene VII

Coulema Galina had become accustomed to being both a guest and a prisoner. Eartaria, who'd brought him captive to the mainland, had headed north, leaving him alone and at the mercy of King Mizmeam. As a high ranking Tunidan guard he was a prized scalp, so even as the war raged he found himself far from mistreated, though he understood all too well that things could easily change. The king liked his presence. It was a welcome substitute to the usual counsellors and hangers-on. Still, for all the cordiality, he was sensible enough to keep the muscular Tunidan in chains.

"Do you trust Maleeva?" questioned Galina, the notable madame now, no doubt, on her way back from her meeting with the King of Tunid.

"Y'know," replied King Mizmeam, not quite liking the implication of the question, nor the temerity displayed by Galina in asking it, "..I preferred your friend, the islander. He was blunt and down to earth in his speech. There was no hint of dissembling. I should have kept him here."

"He wasn't my friend, he was my captor."

Mizmeam ignored the reply. The Tunidan was a useful sounding board, and, with the putdown re-establishing the sense of hierarchy, he took the opportunity to air his thoughts. Speaking aloud as he got up from the table and walked over to window. The gold beaker he was drinking from looking somewhat small against his large hand as he lifted it from the table.

"I don't trust Maleeva, how could I? But I don't have to, I'm tied to her - by the boy. I can see Aralak in his very features. The likeness was one of the reasons why it was so hard to blunt the rumours. Even were she to somehow dispose of me, the boy would still reign as king. I almost see it as providence. Bringing both treasurer and king together in one bloodline."

The sentiment surprised Galina somewhat. Until now it had never occurred to him that there was a grander philosophy marrying the interests of the two parties that had now united against the King of Tunid. The neatness of the unifying worldview briefly shook him from his own certainty.

"It pains me," motioned Mizmeam, thinking aloud further, "..But the truth is, the prince would've made a terrible king. He was hot-headed - much like me. But worse than that, he was never able to be serious. Perhaps I allowed him to be pampered too much, though I think it was just his nature. The boy though, he has a good temperament. It's like someone poured sense into the vessel of his father's frame." He then checked his thoughts. "It's a long time before he will take the throne though. There's still plenty of fire in the old lamp yet."

Galina got up from his seat to stretch. His chains, not especially heavy, but noticeable all the same, restricting him from stretching as much as his body would've liked. This clanking-rattle of the chains further broke the king's meandering thoughts. The servant, who stood at the door, even more unnoticed than Galina, walked noiselessly over to king and refilled his cup.

"What of Kaspria?" asked Galina.

"He's returned to his kingdom. Though what difference it makes is hard to tell. Hopefully he can restore some resilience, following the torching of his ships, but even with the black powder on his side I fear he'll struggle."

"..And the daughter?"

 "The princess is still absconded. He's lost her like he's losing his kingdom. Again, perhaps it's fate that she did not fulfil her father's promise, to produce my now deceased son a princely heir."