Page 85 of Alien Prince's Fake Bride
“The fortunes of war fluctuate, Prince,” the Emperor creaks. “Let’s not panic over a couple of lost skirmishes.”
I don’t know how hard this is going to be. Some things must be said, but I don’t really know Craxallo well enough to use the right tone right away. I’ll have to start carefully and then become more direct if I have to. “It’s worse than that, Magnificence. We have lost major battles, even with me directing them from afar. It’s as if our forces turn soft during the battles. The Vyrpy are getting so close that I fear for the safety of Khav itself. The forces guarding you may not be able to withstand a strong Vyrpy force. They lackheart. It’s as if their power drains from them midway through the fight. Forgive me, stepfather, but I must ask: are you still in control of the Syntrix? It has a strange feeling to it when our forces are involved in a battle. It starts normal, but then it goes sour. I remember it differently. I remember drawing strength from it.”
The Emperor reaches up to touch a tentacle of the throne, but it recoils from him and pulls out of his reach. The sight makes my blood run cold. The Throne doesn’t know the Emperor anymore.
“The Syntrix is as it always was,” he creaks. “Powerful, but unreliable. If our forces aren’t feeling me strengthening them, then perhaps they weren’t very good troops in the first place.”
I glance at the Calanian standing to the side. He stares stiffly straight ahead.
“The troops are thoroughly tested, and they are as good as they ever were. Only in battles do some of them weaken, Magnificence. But they weaken badly.”
“Ah, but cowardice can be cured,” Craxallo says with a cold smile. “Slash the heads off a hundred cowards from each legion and see how eagerly the others will throw themselves into any battle.”
I sigh inwardly. “It’s not cowardice, Magnificence. I’ve seen cowardice. It strikes one man at a time, not a whole company within one heartbeat. No, this is different. This comes from the outside, not inside our forces.”
“You think I’ve lost the use of the Syntrix,” the Emperor says coldly. “And that I’m no longer able to strengthen our armies when they need it. I wonder if there can be any worse insult leveled at an Emperor of Khav! You are really eager to sit on the Tentacle Throne yourself, Mareliux. And to bring an alien so close to it.”
I try to control my frustration. “I obeyed your orders, Majesty. Umbra may be an alien, but she’s remarkable, and I saw no reason to hesitate.”
“My orders?” the Emperor asks, frowning. “What on Khav do you mean?”
I frown. “I mean, Magnificence, that you ordered me to get married in order to remain the heir apparent to the Tentacle Throne.”
He tilts his head and looks up, as if searching for the memory. “I don’t remember giving such an order. Why would I do that?”
Oh dear Dages. He doesn’t even remember! This is worse than I thought. “Magnificence, there was an Imperial Messenger?—”
Craxallo leans stiffly forwards and gazes down at me, face pale and eyes red. “Was ither?Your alien? Did she tell you to come to the throne room and basically tell me to abdicate, to leave the Tentacle Throne for you to sit on?”
“Umbra has no idea I’m here,” I tell him. “She has been nothing but respectful to the Khavgren ways and wouldn’t know much about the throne or the Syntrix. She’s new to it. To answer the question: no, she did not.”
“An alien as the next empress,” the Emperor wheezes. “The very thought! How did it ever cross yourmind?”
“You ordered me to get married,” I try to remind him. “You warned me about the wives at the Imperial Court often trying to betray their husbands. How can she betray me if I’m all she has? Umbra will be perfectly loyal to me. But you mentioned abdication, Magnificence. And only my love of the Empire and our people makes me ask this: You are clearly aware of your own weakness. It makes the whole Empire so weak it’s being picked apart by the Vyrpy. Sire, will you not leave the Tentacle Throne? Let me take it over while we still have an Empire! Step down before it’s too late!”
“I heard the reports from Grefve,” he creaks. “‘Mareliux Imperator! Mareliux Imperator!’ The whole legion chanted it. Twenty-ninth Legion, no less, the most legendary of them all.”
“It was spontaneous, Magnificence. The legionnaires were overwhelmed by emotions after the wedding, and?—”
“The most legendary of the Imperial Legions wants you as their emperor. Are they right?” Emperor Craxallo reaches up to a tentacle once more, and again it draws away from him. His eyes flicker back to me, and there’s pain in them. “Perhaps it’s… perhaps it’s time?—”
His sentence is cut off as he starts to cough, unable to speak.
The Calanians draw closer to me, changing the grip on their spears as if they’re about to use them.
Behind me there’s the sound of the massive doors opening and then quick, hurried steps coming across the stone floor. “Mareliux! What are youdoing?” The shrill voice echoes from the walls all around.
“Abdicate,” I urge the Emperor as he coughs helplessly. “Save the Empire! Your work is done. Let me take over! Or just let me sit on the Throne, while you remain Imperator! Or if you hate the idea of that, let Nerox do it. He’s not nearly as inept as he acts?—”
“Mareliux!”The call is like a whiplash, hitting my ears and echoing unpleasantly through the Syntrix. “Leave him alone! Can’t you see he’s sick?” Empress Juriniel storms past me, black robes flapping with the speed she’s moving at.
The Emperor keeps coughing as Juriniel climbs the steps up to the Throne.
“I’m the heir apparent, and the Empire is in a deep crisis,” I calmly state. “I have every right to see the Emperor. It’s far more concerning that apparently anyone is allowed to break into a personal council between us two!” I turn to glare at the Calanians who let Juriniel in. This would not have happened in the old days. The Calanians back then would have stopped anyone, including the Empress. The decay is much worse than I feared.
“Anyone?”the Empress snaps. “How dare you! I’m the Empress, and you’re wearing out my helplessly sick husband with your nonsense!” She turns on her heel, standing next to the Emperor and looking down on me.
“It’s a strange sickness,” I growl. “It keeps him weak and coughing for years, but always just strong enough to be Emperor. Or is he? Shall I go out in the streets and claim that the Emperor is too weak and sick to rule? Or shall I come with my legions and take the Tentacle Throne by force? Certainly the defending forces wouldn’t gain any strength from the Emperor’s Syntrix!”
