This is getting clunky. I can't believe more than two people who know my identity, aside from myself! Right now, I am 'Ameniah'! Ryker is a dead epitome! Lady Anda is only allowed to call that name; nothing more, nothing less. And of course, there's this other dilemma within the inner circle of the Queen. We don't know whose child is within the belly of Lady Anda. Amongst us is not coming clean when the subject is about the Queen Kehina's pregnancy. Problems. Problems. Problems. Too obvious and too invisible. One is current and one will soon pop out, thus, the pregnancy problem of Lady Anda. We are now piling up with problems. Everywhere. As of now.
We are living in a matriarchal society, which means the progeny of the man whom he pollinated must take responsibility whilst most mothers are doing jobs after their weaning phase. I suspect it might be 'myself' since I've spent a night with the Queen Kehina herself alone. Before departing and meeting Captain Pierre and his crew and the Arancians. This might affect my mission further, therefore, hampering my search and my infiltration within the integral parts of Inglovia. I don't want that to happen as I hope that I am not the father of the child. Those hard works mean nothing if I ever stagnate my progress. I also need to clean up the messes. Both my biddings and my comrades have done. In and outside of Kehina.
Zechary barges in, gasping for air: "Milord…" he stalls his breath, "Milord…" he continues, where he repeats his previous anecdote.
"I did tell you before to gesture a sound at the door before entering the room, did I not?" I insert with a stoic response.
"Pardon me for my swift intrusion, Lord Ameniah. But, - -..."
"...is it so urgent? Well, well, well. Am I just going to turn a blind eye but not and all, is that it?" I interrupt him speaking.
He doesn’t utter a word in that succession and as well as I reminisce about the sequence… I did hear him say the subjunctive statement. Well, I guess, I am at fault for this one. I am just too vexed to think of something so concise at this moment. My mind is everywhere clouded by the looming dread and lurking hazard that Lord Gervðas might blackmail my whole persona. Albeit, the evidence is surmised… all of the other inner circles of the council might have suspicion of me. And not only the confidentiality within the core but also the people here. The people whom I hardly extracted their trust from. Townspeople. Regal Guards. Verlassenes. Alliances. Like what the Augur has stated, we are both hailed from Inglovia. We will be labeled as ‘the enemies of the state’, per se. All of that hard work will be jeopardized. And at worst, it is either one of us or both of us are going to the stake. Lady Anda will be pressured by this so she will succumb to the demands of her people instead.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
As I am done with my daydreaming about my possible candidate futures; I remember that I am holding a conversation with Zechary, clearing my throat: “Forgive me for raising my voice at you. What was that again? You were undertaking to expatiate?” as I bring back into my business mode (my serious tone) afterwards.
“Milord, the schedule of our sail will be delayed. The departure will be stalled temporarily.”
“Would you repeat that again?“ I am blinking my eyes, where my confused look on my face is utterly visible.
“Captain Pierre, the Arancians… They are not clear for the embarkment as several ships of the fleet suffered a massive compromise during our tedious time at the sea.” he replies.
“What?” as I exhale, where the heap of stress is overrunning upon me.
Goddamn it! Are there any options for us to somehow egress this country? The safety of the Queen Kehina is one of the priorities, indeed. Subterfuge is the main state of venture, however. I daresay that external threats are almost similar to cleaning the messes of this civil kerfuffle when we are at war on both fronts. Two problems at once. Mistakenly, those are just my personal problems but there are many troubles to resolve. To name a few, those are: funds, manpower, the ongoing interstate conflict, arm-leasing, business contracts inside the adversary state, and so on and so forth. There are too many to mention.
"How about our naval forces?" I ask impulsively.
"Sire… ?"
"Yes, our navy."
"Milord, how can we obtain such luxury?" he says, as his perplexed look is apparent.
"Huh?"
Zechary sighs: "First and foremost, Lord Ameniah, our economy is in shambles. Plunge into oblivion. We don't have any naval units at our disposal, anyway. There is no way we could avail or even muster such leeway. Our army is breaking their back for us. Fending off the rebels. Whence, the funds are all directed to them. Otherwise, this nation will fall before the Inglovians come ashore." where he expresses his honesty about what is going on.
Am I still under my trance? Or am I turning myself mad? I realize - we don't have a navy. Yeah, indeed. That's so abashing! It's truly pressuring. It is not that I don't know which is genuine or whatnot. Snide, so to speak.
"We need a boat." I spout, as I signify commanding Zechary to provide me the said-thing.
"Milord… ?"
"Yes, you should be able to acquire whose boat we had rented prior. At Lake En. You shall bring me what I told you. Steal it, buy it, rent it. I do care less. That vehicle is crucial!" I clarify, where he is confused at first yet he takes his leave at the initial moment.
Asking to myself: "We do have a navy? Who am I jesting?," I chuckle mid-way "Owning a boat we can't attain, what more with a fleet. Of course, we do not have it." as I immerse myself into the depths, pensively.
Zechary then leaves my personal quarters. After a moment of contemplation, I realize; "Of course not. We truly do own not a navy. I am taking myself for a fool." as I am chuckling to myself.