Page 1 of Taken By the Naga King

Chapter 1

Gravon

Gravon winded through the empty corridors of the Imperial Nirum, making sure his impressive ship was prepared for the journey ahead. Though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, his latest travels for “exploratory purposes” had been little more than an attempt at brief respite from the overwhelming duties he faced as the newly appointed king of Nirum.

He needed a break to ease his troubled mind, even if he had to pretend the trip served some indecipherable political purpose for his people. As king, everything was expected to be for his people.

“Like it would be the worst thing in the world to admit I wanted a vacation,” he muttered when he was sure no one could overhear.

Just an hour ago, the ship had buzzed with dock workers loading food and supplies for the return trip to Nirum, but now that everything appeared to be in place, most of them had dispersed to other jobs around the space station. Only his personal and trusted servants remained, though Gravon had no complaints about the relatively peaceful state of things.

“What else does His Majesty require?” A voice at Gravon’s back filled the silence he had embraced.

So much for getting some quiet to myself.

The time Gravon had to himself had come and gone in the blink of an eye, the way it perpetually seemed to, since assuming the throne at the death of his father eight moons ago. Gravon had been raised as the heir apparent and thought he was prepared for the position, but the way it had rattled his brain over the past few moons had him beginning to suspect there was no such thing as truly being ready to rule over an entire planet.

He hadn’t even had the time to grieve his father properly, though he tried not to think about that too much. Truthfully, some would probably say this trip was to address that buried need, but Gravon chose to ignore them.

He swallowed his annoyance at having his solitude breached and turned to his head servant, Jakam. Jakam was a Niri who had served his father for many years. Though he had no political education, Jakam was a very useful advisor when it came to kingly behavior, and Gravon typically found his presence soothing.

Just not today, when he wanted to be left alone.

“I don’t know yet, Jakam,” he admitted. “I’d like to personally take an inventory and make sure nothing is missing. Then I think we’ll be ready to depart. Why don’t you relax for a moment. Make sure your personal effects are stored properly and you’re prepared for liftoff.”

Jakam frowned, his scaled face wrinkling with uncertainty. “Your Highness, are you sure you wouldn’t like to delegate that to the help? Ekra’s been checking things off as everything is loaded. Would you like me to look at the log for you? I can have everything double-checked, if that makes you feel better. You shouldn’t be doing this yourself. You are the king, sire.”

Heat rose in Gravon’s throat, and he faked a cough to mask his exasperation. His staff was well-trained and reliable. After all, only the best served the king. But the suffocating tedium of constantly watching cogs turn in a well-oiled machine was beginning to drive Gravon mad. Why couldn’t he check his own ship? By the goddess, why couldn’t he pilot it without someone assuring him they had a worker for that task?

What the heill did Gravon need his hands for these days? He didn’t regret his fate at being born into the royal family, not really. But lately, he had found himself craving normalcy despite his limited exposure to such a thing as a member of the ruling group. His brain was taxed to the breaking point, and he craved the order of being locked in the hull simply counting boxes of dried food.

Gravon knew he could never admit these things out loud. No one would understand, and there was a good chance they would use his words against him. Just another way that becoming the king had added to his loneliness.

“I’ll take care of it, Jakam.” Gravon took a cold tone with his head servant. He didn’t mean to vent his frustrations on Jakam, but he could not help it at the moment.

“Your Majesty, are you sure?” Jakam kept his head bowed.

Gravon paused, training his slitted yellow eyes on the other Niri. The words that came out of him next did not seem like his own, shocking even himself.

“Did you ask my father this many questions, Jakam? Perhaps you’d like to join him. Maybe he could use your company right now.”

Jakam backed away, a frightful look flashing in his eyes. Gravon almost felt bad, knowing the Niri did not truly deserve what he said, but he stood by his words, not backing down. He would not give off the notion that he was weak. No, not at such a vulnerable time as this. This was the time to keep his deadly reputation, not tarnish it by appearing soft.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. I did not mean to offend.” Jakam quickly turned and slithered away without another word.

Alone again, Gravon glanced around before winding his way through the corridors once more as he headed to the cargo hold. His only hope was that no one else tried to bother him on his way. He wasn’t sure he could control his anger if anyone else were to question his actions.

Thankfully, he was able to arrive without running into anyone. He began surveying the storage areas, checking that everything he requested was present.

Gravon knew anyone could do this job, and it didn’t necessarily need to be done. He couldn’t explain why he felt the urge to do it regardless. Maybe it was his need for control.

He checked the crates, making sure his personal belongings were there along with the food he had requested. All appeared to be in order so far.

But as Gravon got farther into the cargo hold, something felt off. Very off. It was foreign to him. He wasn’t sure what, but his green scales were uneasy, rippling in anticipation.

Of what?

He did not know.

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