The new king of Imperium rests on his thrown, legs sprawled atop the armrest. His crown is at a crooked angle, resting on a nest of pale hair. He looks calm, careless. Everything he ought not to be at this moment.

I sit next to him, my hands mindlessly playing with the cloth on the table. I am suppose to make sure he doesn’t make any ridiculous offers to the lower courts tonight like many of his advisors fear. But the eerie calmness of his face startles me more than any mad expression he’s ever had. Because I know when Valerian is planning something, he’s very, very good at hiding it.

“Your majesty” I whisper in his ear as the lord’s and lady’s of the courts take their seats. He pretends not to hear. “I must advise you to stick to the plan.”

He raises one brow, his eyes still resting on the audience in front of us. “I shall do what I believe is best” he finally says.

His eyes shine with something unkind, and he raises a goblet up in the air. “I am humbled you have all traveled here to address the recent complaints.”

A woman dressed in iron and thorns scoffs drawing attention from the rest of the table. “We were practically dragged here” she spits, her annoyance as evident as mine.

I don’t recognize her. She is either from the lowest of courts, or newly appointed. Judging by what I can see, I would assume the latter.

“Yes” Valerian says, his mouth curling into wicked smile. “It’s not every day I have a third of my courts speaking for my abdication.” He signals for a servant to bring in the plates and leave. “Especially without informing me.”

I smile to, surprised he’s saying what I told him. Sometimes I think he does things, just to see if I will finally break. Occasionally I feel like I just might. But I’ve sacrificed too much to let a foolish king ruin everything.

“So” Valerian says, turning to me. “May we make a toast?”

The dozen members from the lower courts awkwardly exchange glances I don’t miss. Subtle signs of uncertainty.

One by one they lift their hands in the air, and take a sip out of their golden cups.

I tip the cup towards my lips, satisfied there has been no set backs. But the wine never reaches my throat. The cup is empty.

I turn to Valerian, and he takes a deep swallow of…nothing. There’s nothing in his cup.

“What are you doing” I whisper-yell.

Valerian leans towards me, clanking his cup against mine. “Avoiding all possible conflict” he says, using my words.

The first to start coughing is is the lady in iron. Her hand flys to her chest, obviously in pain.

No no no.

“I- can’t- breathe-“ she gasps, her fork clanking loudly on the table.

The lord besides her traces his hand over the rim of his cup, eyes winding at the same realization I came to. The king has poisoned the wine.

It doesn’t take long for all of them to begin gasping and sputtering blood. They cry, an undignified plea.

“This is what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you” Valerian says to the court members as he takes my hand and walks me to the door.

We walk back in silence to the palace quarters, his occasional excuse slipped in on why he believes what was done is necessary. All I can think though, is this boy will grow out of control one day. And I worry for the time not even I can control him.