Page 35 of Of Skulls Of Shackles

“My valued sliming pawns,” I greeted them. “Tell me how you fare.”

They lengthened in pride at my mention of their value.

Hex said, “We are well, my queen.”

“Tarry not in convention, Hex. Always speak the monstrous truth.”

Hex flushed wetly. “I apologize, my queen. Stress has stolen the ease of monstrous truths from me, but you speak ancient reminders not to lapse into convention, and so I will try again. I am dry with worry, my queen. Evaporated with it. I sandpaper between this queendom and my king’s kingdom, and with each journey, I feel more parched and less vibrant.”

I glanced at the others. “Toil? Sigil?”

“’Tis as Hex says, my queen,” Sigil muttered. “Our state grows crispy. Worry sucks moisture from us so.”

“Might a queen lessen the worries of pawns?” I asked.

“She might not,” sighed Toil. “This desiccation is not of that variety.”

I considered that while a tiny hellebore stroked my hand. My sliming pawns would inform me if doom was directed my way from their liege, so he would take care not to inform them of such. In which case, they would not be so wilted.

So what was amiss with King Bring? Did the pawns react this way to seeing his loneliness, or perhaps a drifting from purpose?

But no. If Bring had drifted from his purpose, pawns would be filled with ancient power to force him back to purpose. They would appear dewy and plump, not the withering opposite.

I was not content to leave this matter alone. They had not uttered enough to reassure me to their wellbeing. Some bait. “I meet with your liege later toward dawn.”

Three gasps.

“My queen, where do you meet him?” demanded Sigil.

“Amongst growing grains.”

They huddled together, whispering in squelches and pops that were rasping and lackluster. Whispers arose in the walls too, and I listened to that until a strong thudding filled my head and soul, beating in tandem with my heart.

King See had arrived.

The cacophony cut off as Toil faced me.

“My queen,” he said. “You have guessed something ails us. We have promised our king with silence in this matter, and while we realize that you could force the truth from our vents”—I squinted at their mouths—“we ask that you do not, so that our loyal silence will bring our liege much-needed good cheer. You will find that… you will see that the reason for our state is… obvious.”

I regarded them. “Your loyalty is to be commended. A queen might sometimes choose to be patient until closer to dawn to learn the truth. You might keep your silence tonight.”

They wilted more in sheer relief.

Hex blurted, “My queen, please do not set one magnificent toe in his kingdom. Promise that you will not.”

I rose from my throne. “I do no such thing. Now leave with your loyal silence. You are tasked with caring for yourselves today, sliming pawns. Time must be set aside for wellness by all monsters. I expect you to hydrate appropriately.”

I swept out of the throne room ahead of them, dipping my head in response to their hasty bows and murmurs of “Yes, my queen.”

Out in the courtyard, I winked at mother, then sifted through the various nightly noises in my queendom. Picket was picketing. Valetise was speaking to him in tight and hushed tones.

Princess Raise listened to the radio in the rooftop gardens. Princess Change riffled through the couch cushions in the small lounge that used to be a laundry. She clearly assumed that since payment had been made, she could spy her heart out. A damp orchestra from the end of the first level informed me that Princess Bring had leaped straight into daylight activities—and during night hours, too—how brazen.

With Will Be, no less.

And through all of those noises, there was also a king whose heart thudded with mine. He lurked in my private lounge.

I blinked in that direction, then paused in front of Has Been and Is, who were meant to beguardingthe doors of my personal chambers and to the aforementionedprivatelounge.

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