Back in Alexandria...
The Empire was uneasy.
The executions had ended days ago.
The bodies had been removed.
Blood had been washed from the streets.
Burned buildings were being repaired.
Broken windows replaced.
Imperial banners once again hung perfectly from every government building.
Officially...
Order had been restored.
But Alexandria had not returned to normal.
Perhaps it never would.
The Empire had been tense for generations.
What had once been a kingdom built around order, stability, and unity had slowly transformed into something harsher.
Colder.
The last five kings had each pushed the Empire further toward extremism.
Beastkin were no longer treated merely as rivals.
They were declared inferior.
Suitable for labor.
Suitable for ownership.
Suitable for whatever purpose their human masters required.
Disagreement with Imperial policy became disloyalty.
Disloyalty became treason.
And anyone who questioned the direction of the Empire could conveniently be labeled an agent of forces seeking to destroy it.
Most people adapted.
They lowered their heads.
Stopped asking questions.
Learned which opinions were safest to express in public.
Others became angry.
Some became defiant.
But after the executions...
After the riots...
After Imperial soldiers turned magic, arrows, and steel against their own citizens...
Many of those voices had disappeared again.
Not because their anger was gone.
Because anger had learned to whisper.
Alexandria had become a pot sitting over a flame.
The surface appeared still.
Beneath it...
Everything was beginning to boil.
Inside the Imperial Palace...
The King paced furiously.
Nine Generals stood around an enormous stone table.
None spoke.
They had learned long ago that when the King became like this...
It was easier to let him exhaust himself.
"They question me!"
His voice echoed throughout the chamber.
The King looked decades older than he actually was.
Thin gray hair clung to his wrinkled forehead.
Dark circles rested beneath his eyes.
His shoulders hunched slightly as he paced.
Yet when he spoke...
There remained something magnetic about him.
Something powerful.
The same charisma that could still fill Alexandria's largest square and leave thousands cheering his name.
"They think we were wrong!"
He pointed toward the windows overlooking the capital.
"Wrong!"
His voice cracked with outrage.
"After everything I have done for them!"
One of the Generals shifted slightly.
The King immediately noticed.
"You disagree?"
"No, Your Majesty."
"Of course you don't!"
The King resumed pacing.
"They don't understand!"
"They never understand!"
His hands moved wildly as he spoke.
"They read foreign newspapers!"
"They listen to enemy propaganda!"
"They believe lies!"
His eyes darted around the room.
"Unless..."
He stopped.
The Generals waited.
The King's expression slowly changed.
Suspicion.
"...Unless they're part of it."
No one answered.
The King pointed toward the city.
"The protesters."
"The families."
"The merchants."
"Those so-called scholars questioning our reports."
"They're agents!"
His voice rose again.
"Every one of them!"
He slammed both hands against the table.
"They spread lies about us!"
"They spread fake stories!"
"They tried to undermine the Crown!"
His breathing grew heavier.
"But we exposed them."
He smiled.
Not pleasantly.
"The riots proved it."
A few Generals exchanged glances.
"The deaths proved it."
The King straightened.
"They were traitors."
He looked around the room.
"All of them."
Behind him...
The Queen smiled.
She appeared entirely untouched by the chaos that had consumed Alexandria.
Young.
Beautiful.
Perfectly composed.
Where the King looked as though every passing year had stolen several from him...
The Queen appeared barely older than she had twenty years before.
She approached slowly.
Her hand settled gently against her husband's chest.
"You are right, my handsome King."
The effect was immediate.
Some of the tension left his shoulders.
The Queen's voice remained soft.
Comforting.
"They do not understand what you have sacrificed for them."
The King nodded.
"No."
"They don't."
"They see only what they are told to see."
Her fingers moved slowly across his chest.
"They want your throne."
His eyes narrowed.
"They want to tear apart everything you built."
His breathing quickened again.
"They want to drag this Empire into disorder."
"Chaos."
The word lingered for only a moment.
Then disappeared beneath her next sentence.
"They want rights for beasts."
She gave a quiet, almost amused laugh.
"What comes next?"
Her eyes moved toward the Generals.
"Do insects demand representation?"
Several of them smirked.
The King nodded vigorously.
"Exactly!"
He stepped away from her.
"Exactly!"
His confidence returned with every word.
"I bet General Valen was part of it!"
The room became slightly quieter.
"That explains everything!"
The King pointed toward the table as though he had just solved an impossible puzzle.
"Ten thousand Imperial soldiers!"
"Defeated by one man?"
He laughed.
"Impossible!"
The Queen said nothing.
"It had to be a conspiracy."
The King began pacing again.
"Valen betrayed us."
"The soldiers betrayed us."
"Someone opened the canyon to them."
"Someone warned them."
"They were all working together!"
His face twisted with renewed suspicion.
"They're trying to remove me."
The Queen approached from behind.
Her arms gently wrapped around him.
"It's fortunate you still have loyal men and women in this room."
The King stopped.
Her eyes moved slowly across the nine Generals.
"These are the men and women who restored order."
A few stood straighter.
"These are the commanders who protected Alexandria."
Her voice softened.
"These are the people who remain loyal to you."
She leaned closer to the King's ear.
"They..."
A pause.
"...and I..."
Another.
"...are the only people you can truly trust."
The King closed his eyes.
Slowly...
He relaxed.
"Yes."
The Queen smiled against his shoulder.
"Yes..."
He looked toward the Generals.
"Good men."
His eyes settled briefly on the women among them.
"And women."
He nodded approvingly.
"All of you."
The Generals bowed.
The King smiled.
Confidence had returned.
"I have a speech to prepare."
No one responded.
"I'll address the city tomorrow."
He straightened his clothing.
"They need reassurance."
The Queen smiled.
"Of course."
"They need leadership."
"Absolutely."
"They need to know their King is still strong."
Her smile widened.
"They need you."
The King nodded proudly.
"Yes."
He turned toward the doors.
"These traitors will not poison my Empire."
The enormous doors slammed shut behind him.
Silence.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Several seconds passed.
Then...
General Blackmoor exhaled.
The enormous man leaned back in his chair.
"That man hasn't the slightest idea what's actually happening."
A quiet chuckle came from somewhere around the table.
Another General shook his head.
"He genuinely believes Valen betrayed him."
"He believes whatever explanation allows him to remain the hero," General Drell replied.
A few more laughs followed.
The Queen raised one finger.
Silence returned instantly.
Not gradually.
Instantly.
She walked toward the head of the table.
And as she did...
Something changed.
It was subtle.
At first.
The flames burning along the chamber walls flickered.
Then bent.
Not from wind.
From pressure.
General Blackmoor rolled one enormous shoulder.
Power quietly radiated from him.
General Drell flexed his fingers.
A faint shimmer moved beneath his skin before disappearing.
Across the table...
Others stopped restraining themselves quite so carefully.
Nine presences slowly unfolded within the chamber.
Strength.
Magic.
Speed.
Abilities ordinary soldiers could never hope to possess.
Power beyond what years of training alone could provide.
Each had been formidable before receiving their positions.
That was why they had been chosen.
But afterward...
They had been given something more.
A blessing.
A gift.
Power bestowed upon those deemed worthy of serving the Empire's true purpose.
The King liked to believe his Generals were powerful because he had selected the finest warriors Alexandria could produce.
No one remaining in the room bothered correcting him.
Their power filled the chamber.
Then...
The Queen reached her chair.
And theirs disappeared beneath hers.
Not literally.
Every General remained just as dangerous as before.
Yet the moment her presence unfolded...
Nine monsters suddenly seemed considerably smaller.
The torches dimmed.
Blackmoor's smile vanished.
Drell lowered his eyes.
Around the table...
The others followed.
The Queen sat.
Only then did the pressure recede.
She smiled.
"Better."
No one laughed now.
The King ruled Alexandria.
Officially.
Everyone remaining in the chamber knew better.
The Queen rested one hand against the arm of her chair.
"Do not underestimate my husband."
Blackmoor raised an eyebrow.
The Queen smiled.
"His usefulness is considerable."
She glanced toward the closed doors.
"He keeps roughly a quarter of this Empire fiercely loyal."
She lifted one finger.
"They will believe anything he tells them."
A second finger.
"Another quarter would celebrate his death tomorrow."
Her smile remained.
"The remaining half?"
She looked around the table.
"They want to survive."
"They want their businesses."
"Their homes."
"Their children."
"They don't care who sits upon the throne so long as the violence never reaches their door."
General Drell nodded.
"The silent majority."
"The useful majority," the Queen corrected.
She leaned back.
"Those people do not require devotion."
"They require consequences."
Her eyes moved around the table.
"That..."
She smiled.
"...is where you come in."
No one misunderstood.
Blackmoor and Drell certainly didn't.
They had spent the previous days demonstrating exactly what those consequences looked like.
The Queen's fingers tapped slowly against the chair.
"The executions were useful."
A few Generals looked toward her.
"The riots were unfortunate," General Drell said.
The Queen's tapping stopped.
She looked at him.
For the briefest moment...
Something almost playful appeared in her eyes.
"Were they?"
Drell said nothing.
Her smile returned.
"The Empire now knows what resistance costs."
She stood.
"And those who survived know precisely how far we are willing to go."
She slowly walked around the table.
"Fear has returned."
There was satisfaction in her voice.
Too much satisfaction.
Blackmoor noticed.
He said nothing.
The Queen stopped.
"Now..."
Her expression hardened.
"...we have another problem."
No one needed to ask.
A map of the continent covered the center of the table.
The Queen reached down.
One perfectly manicured finger touched a city west of Alexandria.
Solmere.
"Jax Darquebane."
The name alone changed the mood.
Valen was dead.
Nearly ten thousand soldiers had marched into Crescent Moon Canyon.
Fewer than fifteen hundred had returned.
Whatever jokes the Generals made about the King...
No one laughed about that.
The Queen slowly traced her finger around Solmere.
"I want information."
General Drell leaned forward.
"We already have agents attempting to enter the United Kingdoms."
"Attempting?"
Her eyes lifted.
Drell corrected himself immediately.
"We will have agents inside the United Kingdoms."
"Better."
She returned her attention to the map.
"I want to know everything about this man."
She tapped Solmere once.
"How he commands those creatures."
Again.
"How he obtained his strength."
Again.
"His speed."
"His magic."
"His wealth."
"His businesses."
"His allies."
"His habits."
She paused.
"His women."
One of the Generals smiled.
The Queen noticed.
"What?"
The man leaned back.
"Your Majesty..."
His smile grew.
"...you already mentioned his weaknesses."
A few Generals chuckled.
The Queen stared at him.
Then...
She laughed.
Genuinely.
"Perhaps."
The tension broke slightly.
She resumed walking.
"But until I understand him..."
Her amusement disappeared.
"...I will assume nothing."
She looked toward the Generals.
"Valen underestimated him."
Her eyes hardened.
"Valen is currently a head in a sack."
No one laughed at that.
"We will not make the same mistake."
She returned to the map.
"I want his strengths."
"His weaknesses."
"His allies."
"His enemies."
"What motivates him."
"What frightens him."
"What he protects."
Her finger rested against Solmere.
"And what he loves."
General Blackmoor folded his arms.
"And when we know?"
The Queen looked toward him.
"We exploit it."
Simple.
Cold.
Blackmoor nodded.
Another General spoke.
"What if the reports are accurate?"
The Queen turned.
"Which reports?"
"All of them."
Silence.
The General continued.
"One man."
"An army of creatures."
"A dragon."
"Strength sufficient to kill Valen before his blessing could save him."
The Queen's expression changed.
Not fear.
Interest.
"Then we learn why."
The General nodded.
The Queen slowly looked around the table.
"The gifts you possess were not given without purpose."
Several Generals straightened.
"They were not granted so you could grow fat governing provinces."
Her voice hardened.
"They were not granted so you could parade through Alexandria wearing medals."
The pressure in the chamber began building again.
"You were chosen."
A torch extinguished.
Then another.
"You were strengthened."
Another flame died.
"For a reason."
The Generals remained silent.
The Queen's violet eyes seemed almost luminous in the dimming chamber.
"And somewhere in Solmere..."
She looked down at the map.
"...there is a man possessing power he should not have."
Her finger settled over Jax's city.
For the first time...
Her smile disappeared completely.
"Find out why."
Blackmoor nodded.
Drell followed.
Then the others.
The Queen continued.
"Send spies."
"Buy merchants."
"Turn officials."
"Follow his allies."
"Learn his businesses."
"Watch his women."
Her finger pressed harder against the map.
"I want reports."
"Not rumors."
"Not propaganda."
"Facts."
She looked toward the nine Generals.
"And if an opportunity presents itself..."
The chamber became completely silent.
The Queen smiled.
"...kill him."
No one questioned the order.
One by one...
Nine Generals bowed their heads.
Far away...
Jax Darquebane was spending his honeymoon beside a quiet pond.
Laughing.
Swimming.
Enjoying two peaceful days with his new wife.
He had no idea that nine of the most powerful people in the Empire had just been ordered to learn everything about him.
No idea that something hidden behind the throne had begun taking an interest in his existence.
And no idea that the mad King of Alexandria...
Was not even close to being the most dangerous person wearing a crown.
The hunt for Jax Darquebane had begun.