Chapter 238 Beggars in the Mud
Chapter 238 Beggars in the Mud
McKenna hesitated, her dark eyes shifting briefly toward the polished floor. Her rigid posture tightened.
"Is there a problem, Commander?" Wex asked. His rough voice echoed through the hall, carrying the heavy, commanding weight of an Alpha.
"Not a problem, Alpha King," McKenna replied quickly, looking back up. "Merely a complication at the outer limits of the city. A large camp of displaced individuals has gathered near the eastern mud flats. They are refusing the aid of the free clinics and demanding a formal audience with the crown."
Shamus frowned, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Who are they?"
"Former nobles, Emperor," McKenna explained, her voice entirely devoid of sympathy. "The high court families who abandoned the capital when the beast ascended. They fled to the distant borders, leaving the citizens to burn. Now that the city is rebuilt and the trade routes are thriving, they have returned. They are demanding their old estates be restored to them, claiming they have a divine right to their wealth and titles."
A cold, sharp silence fell over the Sovereign Hall.
The golden bond in my chest flared. I felt a sudden, dangerous spike of pure fury radiating from Wex. His large hand twitched, his thick muscles coiling with the urge to draw his broadsword. He remembered exactly who those nobles were. He remembered Crofton Baxter Moloney trying to break the infantry lines. He remembered Orin Alexander Webster trampling over a wounded woman to save his own skin.
I reached my left hand out. I did not turn around. I simply brushed my fingertips against the rough leather of Wex's tunic.
The physical touch instantly soothed the violent spike in his chest. His fury melted into a deep, steady calm, anchored entirely by my presence. He exhaled a long, heavy breath, trusting me to handle the vermin.
"They abandoned this city when the sky tore open," I said softly. My voice was quiet, but the words carried a heavy, freezing edge that made McKenna stand even straighter. "They trampled over women, children, and wounded soldiers while the rest of us bled into the dirt to keep them safe. They gave up their right to this city the moment they turned their backs on it."
"What are your orders, Sovereign?" McKenna asked, her dark eyes flashing with fierce approval.
"Tell them there are no estates left for cowards," I declared, my tone leaving absolutely no room for debate. "The old council is dead. Their titles are dust. If they wish to eat, they can pick up a mason's hammer and join the building crews. They can haul stone and lay bricks alongside the people they once oppressed. If they refuse to work, they can stay in the mud outside the gates."
Shamus smiled, a dark, satisfied expression settling over his face. "A truly just verdict, My Queen."
"I will deliver the message myself," McKenna nodded sharply, turning on her heel. Her heavy boots clicked loudly as she marched back down the long marble aisle, the heavy doors swinging shut behind her.
"We should prepare for the council meeting," Sacheverell suggested, pushing himself away from the stone pillar. "The merchant guilds are eager to finalize the new tax laws before the procession tomorrow."
"Go," I told them, waving a hand dismissively. "Wex and I will join you in the lower chambers shortly."
Shamus and Sacheverell bowed deeply, their mutual respect for the crown overriding any of their previous banter. They walked out of the hall together, their voices dropping into a low, strategic discussion about the borders as they disappeared into the corridor.
The grand chamber was finally empty.
Wex stepped down from his position behind the throne. He walked around to the front of the dais and stopped between my knees. He reached out, his large, calloused hands gently framing my face. His touch was incredibly warm, grounding me entirely in the present moment.
"You are a terrifying ruler, Eddena," Wex murmured, a soft, genuine smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "You did not even blink when you stripped the high court of their remaining pride."
"They deserved worse," I replied, leaning my cheek into his broad palm. I felt the deep, vibrating hum of his affection flowing through the Sovereign Bond. "I am just giving them the exact same mercy they gave me when I was a child."
"You are nothing like them," Wex promised, his golden eyes bright and fierce. He leaned down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to my forehead. "You are fair. You are just. And you are exactly what this broken world needs."
I closed my eyes, letting the immense comfort of his presence wash over me.
I focused on the massive, branching network of glowing threads connected to my heart. The Sovereign Bond allowed me to feel the vast, sprawling pulse of the continent. I felt the deep joy of a family moving into their newly built home in the merchant district. I felt the quiet, steady contentment of the werewolf infantry resting in their barracks. I felt the thriving, vibrant life of a world that was finally at peace.
But as I let my awareness stretch further out, moving past the thick stone walls of the capital and out toward the eastern mud flats, the smooth, warm current of the magic hit a snag.
A sharp, ugly spike of pure, rotting resentment flared at the very edge of my consciousness.
It was a familiar, bitter emotion. It was not the terror of a displaced noble, or the anger of a lost soldier. It was a specific, twisted jealousy that felt like cold sludge dragging against my bright, golden threads. It was the feeling of someone staring at the towering walls of the capital, drowning in their own petty, worthless hatred.
I opened my eyes, a cold chill running down my spine.
"What is it?" Wex asked instantly, his thumb stopping its gentle stroke across my cheek. He felt the sudden shift in my emotions through the tether. His broad shoulders tensed, ready for a fight.
"Ghosts," I whispered, staring out the massive glass windows toward the eastern horizon. The bright sunlight suddenly felt a little too harsh. "They are waiting in the mud."