Page 1 of Taken By the Zypherian King

ZAYDEN

“This is ridiculous,” I fumed.

“It’s the will of the gods, Your Highness,” the priest replied, unfazed by my steadily climbing anger.

“I’m your king and ruler by the will of the gods.” My voice carried through the dark temple.

“That you are. But if you are to remain our king, you will need a queen.”

I narrowed my eyes at the priest, my hands opening and closing as I warred with myself to keep them from the other man’s throat.

The fight for the throne had been long and bloody. King Krydyn and his son both died in a tragic accident, which circumstances were still under investigation, but after all these years, I doubted we would ever find out if they had been assassinated or if it had truly been an accident. Not that it mattered any longer. They were dead and so were my rivals for the throne.

“We cannot endanger the kingdom with another loss, Your Royal Highness. You know that, I know that, the gods know it, and so do your subjects.”

I glared at the priest. I wasn’t objecting to taking a queen, not at all. But I would have preferred to have time to get Zypheria in order first and to look for a politically advantageous marriage. Even that I was willing to forgo, but where in the name of the gods was I supposed to find a golden-haired, pale-fleshed female?

“I suppose I could order the females to dye their hair,” I muttered, trying to keep my composure, “but where and how will I find a pale-fleshed female? I can’t have them bathe in acid.”

The priest shuddered, fearing my words weren’t meant in jest. I did have a reputation to uphold, so I didn’t correct his assumption.

“I suggest taking the gods’ will more seriously and obey by their commands,” the priest said consternated.

“Then where do they say I’m supposed to find such a female?” I demanded at my wits’ end.

“The gods will as they please,” he replied in an offhanded manner that only served to stir my ire.

With a contemptuous glare toward him and the statues of the gods I left before my temper would get the better of me and I struck the audacious little shit.

Four years of war. Four long years of bloodshed, killing family members, and countless losses of life. All that so I could take my rightful place as king of Zypheria. And now the priests were telling me all that I fought for would have been for nothing if I didn’t find the queen the gods willed for me.

I didn’t ask the priest what would happen if I ignored this latest demand of me. I was sure he understood I would not willingly give up the crown I had fought so hard to win.

Others, however, would rise from the ashes, others who would hold a golden-haired female up triumphantly and demand I step down, ending in even more bloodshed.

If I had learned anything during the four years of war, it was that the will of the gods wasn’t to be taken lightly. Some days I wondered if the priests of our world wielded more power than me, their king.

I kicked a golden brazier emanating sweet-smelling smoke into the air and brought it down. Uncaring for the hot coals scattering over the expensive tiles or that the brazier had been an offering to our goddess, Mysan. When I did catch a glimpse of her, though, I hesitated. Mysan was the only goddess with long, curling hair. The statue was carved from cyan alabaster, a stone resembling our skin color. Yet she was built much more fragile than the others. She was the goddess of love and peace, a caretaker of the poor and lost, so her having been carved in a more delicate form might have been a design of the artist.

I scrutinized her fine facial structure, her fragile limbs and body, so different from our statures.

“Were you golden-haired and pale?” I asked her cold face, but she remained mum.

Most of our gods had been sculpted looking different from us, different from each other. Legend told that they came in their spaceships and bestowed their gifts of knowledge on our ancestors. Staying with us for some time before taking off into other galaxies, never to be seen or heard from again unless contacted by the priests for their wills.

I wasn’t a superstitious male; I wasn’t pious like most of my subjects, but I acknowledged that their will was law. The priest had informed me of this latest prophecy as a courtesy before he would make it known to all within a week’s time.

“Typhar,” I yelled for my war commander when I entered my palace.

“My king.” He wasn’t a male to come running, but he hurried his pace after taking one look at my facial expression, which gave him a hint of how foul my mood was.

“The gods have willed I find a golden-haired, pale-skinned female and make her my queen,” I filled him in.

If he was surprised or even slightly thrown off by this latest development, he didn’t show it.

“I will get on it at once,” he promised. “You have other worries to take care of.”

He was right; I did. Namely, I had yet to dispatch certain traitors who had stood between the crown and me until the last moment and who were now awaiting my pleasure in the dungeons. Then I needed to figure out how to divvy up their lands and reward my supporters. There were also a slew of new bills and laws I wanted to introduce, a new cabinet of advisors to fill and… the list only went on from there.

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