“If we save them, we kill ourselves. If we kill them, we save ourselves. It’s an impossible choice” Queen Asher of the Drakan kingdom whispered solemnly, tears swelling up in her eyes

“Says who, your majesty, you have to think about your people,” said the young man opposite her. His short black hair was parted like curtains, revealing his average sized forehead. He stared intently at his superior through his thin, round spectactles.

“I am thinking about my people.” Her face was a mixture of many emotions as tears rolled down her puffy red cheeks. Her black hair spilled beautifully across her shoulder showing that whichever way you messed it up, it would still find a way to look perfectly layed out.

“No, you’re not.” Kerin frowned at her, “If you’re thinking about them, then why leave them to die?” Kerin’s words stung in the Queen’s heart. “Drakan is a powerful country and Xandor is not. It’s as simple as that.”

“No, it’s not; Xandor remain true to their word. They are an honest country and we mustn’t bully them.”

“You sound so much like your mother; you-”

“Don’t you even dare bring my mother into this.”

Kerin remained fixed in his chair. To avoid awkwardness, he looked around the room and took in his surroundings. He was on a soft chair, facing the Queen (her face as red as a tomato). The fire pit was burning through wood but it was nearly all ash and it seemed too warm to rekindle it. The room was small and cosy, fit for discussions and battle plans. That was something Kerin wished he could do with the new Queen.

You see, Asher was 17 years old when she was put on the throne for three years following the assassination of her parents by the black cat. She wasn’t fit to rule the biggest power in the world, which is why Kerin assumed role as ‘superior advisor’ until she was of age.

“I apologize, your highness but please do allow me to state my case.” Asher cleared her throat and did not speak. He took this as a sign to continue. “I understand that you don’t want to fight anyone, I don’t either. I love the people of Drakan and they’re dying; the reservoir is drying up. What other choice do you have?”

“What other choice do I have? What choice do I HAVE? I never -”

" I’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like tha-”

“I never asked for this, did I? DID I?”

“And yet you are-”

“You can have it if you want, all of this, it’s clear you want it.”

“It’s not how it works and you know that. You have to be queen I’m just here to help you.”

A dead silence filled the room. It lasted roughly 45 seconds until Asher spoke out, “Do what you will. But keep my innocent name out of it. And offer them a chance to give it over with no casualties first.”

“They’ll say no.”

“Then that’s their fault, isn’t it?”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Kerin turned to the door, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He was no fool. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been appointed chief advisor. He knew deep down Queen Asher wanted what was best for her kingdom. She just didn’t want it on her conscience or, for that matter, she didn’t want to let anyone know her intentions. She knew what had to be done and wanted to get someone else to do it. He got up and, without saying a word, left the room.

The corridors of Castle Drakan were vast and could fit many people in them. This time, however, it was just Kerin passing through them with a brisk walk. He passed many doors and turns but always knew where he was going. It was as if he were passing through a maze he had already obtained the map for. At last, he found a door he liked and knocked three times before entering. “Sit, sit; it’s just me.” He walked past several familiar faces before taking a seat at the head of the table. Four others were seated at the table and they all had an important aura about them.

“The queen has condoned it. It’s now in our hands.” Nobody looked surprised when hearing these words, nor did they look confused as to what ‘it’ meant. They had clearly all been waiting for him to arrive with news.

A plump man with gray hair was the first to put something forward, “So what, we’re just going to invade them.”

Kerin replied, “Well, yes . . . "

“Oh, alright then. Cor I can see why they appointed you head advisor. You’re a real sharp one” the plump man continued, “We’ll just walk up to their borders and say, ‘Hand over your water then’. Who knows, maybe they’ll get all the townsfolk to grab a bucket each and they’ll come running out in their day clothes?”

The plump man, who was more commonly known as Lorry or Lo for short, liked to belittle others to appear more smart in conversation. “And what do you suggest we do instead?” It was the voice of a younger one that brought an end to the silence.

" I suggest we rethink our plans,” snarled the fat man. “Call me crazy if I’m wrong but I don’t think we’ve thought it out well enough.”

The younger boy continued on his argument. “Very helpful, always bringing a lot to the conversation.”

The man was now beginning to grow quite tired of the young boys jeers.“Oh, OK, Mack, what do you bring to the table?”

“Less than you, I’d say, by looking at your stomach.”

The old man grew infuriated at that. “How dare you! I’ve been at this table longer than you’ve been alive.”

The smug boy’s (or Mack’s) face lit up. He had been presented with the perfect insult opportunity. Before he could get it out, however, the old man got up and stomped to the door in anger.

“Lorry, come back. He didn’t mean it.”

“Call me Lo, Kerin,” Lo said angrily.

The younger boy spoke up in an attempt to correct his mistake. “Lo, I didn’t mean anything I said.”

Lo laughed pitifully, “You can call me lorry.” And with that, he slammed the door shut, which, in turn, filled the room with silence. A shorter woman, who had been silent the whole time, broke the quiet awkwardness.

“He was a good advisor, you know, Mack? You made a waste there. Sure, he may have a short temper but he’s one of the reasons Drakan is so powerful.” It was a sort of telling off to Mack. His face turned red, symbolizing how uncomfortable he felt at being told off.

Kerin clearly noticed as he butted in,“Leave Mack alone Dorris, he’s the Queen’s stepbrother. He must be -”

“She doesn’t like me too well, though, does she now?” Mack interrupted.

Dorris spoke softly, “She’s had a tough childhood.”

“Nothing has been the same after the black cat did what she did.”

“ARTHUR!”

“What?” The last man at the table shrugged as if he had not just spoken an unspeakable name.

“We don’t say that name anymore!”

“We still afraid are we?”

Kerin was offended, “Arthur, you know that’s not what it is. It’s out of respect.”

Arthur did not take the situation seriously. “Respect? Maybe we’d respect the deceased by finding out who killed them,” he fought back.

Kerin, clearly frustrated, spoke out, “You’re all dismissed. We’ll meet back this evening, where we will discuss strategy. Mack, I suggest you go and say sorry to General Lo. Dorris is right, he may seem pompous but he sure knows a thing or two.”

While the select advisors trudged, quite annoyed, out of the great meeting room they thought of what the future could hold. Some wondered if there would be another fight. Someone (Arthur), thought only of what was for dinner. None of them could possibly begin to predict the murder that was about to take place. Or, the return of the black cat that very day.