Dominion of King Edward, Vermont, After the Great Collapse

Archie eyeballs the glass of water on the table, his dry tongue desperate for moisture. He had not taken a single drop of hydration since the morning and his parched throat burned like coals. But the memory of actually drinking made his stomach tense in protest. Thanks to Archie's fucked up sense of taste, even drinking something like water was an experience similar to chugging down horse piss. Archie struggles with himself, the twin sources of suffering tearing him apart.

"Probably can go for a few more hours without needing to drink ..." Archie mutters to himself as he succumbs once more to the primal terror of taking in nourishment.

Archie slumps back into his chair in utter defeat, grateful that in the privacy of his office, no one could spectate on the hilarious sight of a grown man struggling to sip from a glass of water. Originally, Archie would personally supervise the market, but that was before Archie had wasted away into something that would give children nightmares. No one wanted to make a deal with a walking corpse. Apparently those idiots thought it was bad luck. So that meant Archie handing over the public relations side of the business to his more personable henchmen while he hid himself away in the private office King Edward had prepared for him and ran things from there.

At least sitting around in the office was less tiring than standing in the sun haggling with some smelly wanderer over toilet paper or hand wipes. Anything that allowed Archie to go a few more hours without eating or drinking was a good thing. Marco ran a tight ship as far as screening potential customers for the settlement's market was concerned. Not only did visiting merchants need to prove that they had the gold or goods to make it worth Archie's while, Marco had also set up a security checkpoint which screened the temperature of any visitor. Combined with five person limit on customers at any one time, business at the market could take the entire day to finish. Delegation may have been an unintended consequence of Archie's condition, but a welcome one nevertheless.

As Archie begins scrutinizing his accounts and the cargo manifests filed by his henchmen, the door of his office bursts open, revealing the unwelcome presence of that jumped up majorette.

"Announcing the arrival of her serene majesty, mother of the world, gracious dictator and the one, true Empress of Vermont, the beautiful Queen Claire!" the majorette announces as Archie braces for that trumpeter to make an appearance and start with the ear rape.

But to Archie's surprise, Queen Claire waddles into his office in her renfaire finery without further ceremony, shooing away the majorette.

"Go play with my handmaidens." Queen Claire says in a surprisingly kind voice, "Take a break, you deserve it."

The majorette salutes and wanders out of the office as Queen Claire plonks her considerable bulk on one of the visitor's chairs facing Archie. The former financier immediately rises from his seat to kneel but the Queen immediately gestures at him to sit back down.

"No need for all that Archie." she sighs, "We both know how stupid those rules set by Edward make everyone look. I never knew what got into him ever since we settled here."

"As you say my Queen." Archie replies deferentially.

"And stop with the my Queen this, my Queen that nonsense." Claire quirks an eyebrow, "I've seen the look on your face when Edward isn't looking. You think that both of us are morons. No need to fake respect when you don't really feel it."

"I see ..." Archie answers, not bothering to deny Claire's statement. His hands close in on a wad of old bills left on the table, ready to lash out at any moment.

"You fascinate me sometimes Archie." Claire makes herself more comfortable, adjusting her dress, "Looking at you is really like looking into a window in a whole other world."

"Other world?" Archie repeats, his grip on the wad of bills tightening. This Claire know of his secret? Did he need to silence her now?

"The world of the big city and big money." Claire explains, "The way you work, your unwillingness to dirty your hands as if its beneath you, my folks would have called you a useless waster. But then again you would probably scorn us as ignorant poor people right?"

Archie relaxes, realizing Claire's talking about something else entirely. The danger has passed for now.

"I did go out there and close deals." Archie points out, "Back when this market was getting on its feet."

"But not actually move the goods, or even do any maintenance, back when everyone was busy setting this place up." Claire smiles, "I remember you were chewing out your men for failing to fix a light bulb for you, even after my servants told you where the ladder was kept. You only moved your mouth, not your hands."

"My time's more valuable than that." Archie shrugs and looks at Claire levelly, "Did you come here just to complain about my work ethic?"

"How long do you think I've been married to Edward?" Claire asks, taking the conversation in a whole new direction.

"Uh, at least a decade?" Archie guesses, "From the age of your son, yeah, around a decade."

"Not bad. Its twelve years actually." Claire nods, "Twelve years of holy matrimony. That's long enough to fully understand someone, don't you think?"

"Sounds about right." Archie agrees.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Last week, Edward refused to dress himself." Claire suddenly shifts topic again, "He ordered the maids to do it for him. Edward just stood there in our bedroom, buck naked, T-posing. Ever since that day, its been the same thing every morning."

"Uh ..." Archie mumbles, not quite sure how to react to this revelation.

"And it wasn't always 'Edward' you know?" Claire continues with her little speech, "I used to call him Eddie. Everyone used to call him Eddie. Been that way for more than a decade."

"People change?" Archie hazards a guess at this litany of complaints.

"Yes, exactly!" Claire exclaims triumphantly, "And that's why I'm here talking to you, Archie. Edward is no longer the man I married. He's become someone else. Someone like you."

"I have never T-posed naked in my bedroom." Archie snorts, "Ever."

"Well, leave that aside for the moment." Claire huffs, "I'm not stupid Archie. I know all the power and wealth has gone into Edward's head. He doesn't have the culture or big city manners you have, making it look dumb when he tries to show it off, but the core is the same."

"I still don't see why you're talking to me about this." Archie shoots back, "I'm not a marriage counselor."

"But you understand. You understand Edward on a level I no longer can." Claire insists, "I need to ask you for a very personal opinion on him, and that's why I sent those hangers on away."

"Sure?" Archie probes cautiously, "Is this about your recent 'guests'?"

"Yes! Yes, precisely." Claire nods frantically, "The two women and the baby are being kept in the manor's basement. Edward's not letting them leave, or turning them into servants. The baby I understand, but ..."

"Its obvious what King Edward wants." Archie rolls his eyes, "You just don't want to admit it to yourself."

"Tell me." Claire hisses with burning intensity in her eyes.

"He wants the mother, Carol's, womb." Archie shrugs, "Edward wants Carol to start producing Immune children for him."

"We already have a son!" Claire snaps.

"Not an Immune one." Archie smirks unpleasantly, "Having Immune children would be the surest way of King Edward to secure the his fortune. The virus would not be able to kill off his heirs. And it would legitimize his rule over all the other Prep Kings of Vermont."

"No way." Claire denies, "None of the other warlords would submit to Edward that easily."

"Who's talking about submitting?" Archie laughs, "Let's say Carol shits out a daughter for King Edward, that princess would be worth her weight in gold, even if she grew up to be an ugly cow. All the other prep kings would be salivating at the prospect of a baby factory that can churn out Immune children for them. They would be fighting each other to secure her hand in marriage, either for themselves or for their own sons."

Claire sinks into her seat, staring sullenly at Archie as he continues.

"As for any sons Carol may have," Archie shrugs, "They would probably also be as popular for the same reasons. Thanks to Carol, King Edward would be able to weave a grand coalition of prep kings, bound by marriage, with himself at the center."

"Emperor of Vermont." Claire mutters, "That's what he's being calling himself lately, ever since Marco captured that woman."

"Yeah, I heard about it just now, you know." Archie replies, recalling the majorette's recital of all those new titles tacked on the Claire's name.

"Thank you Archie." Claire says stiffly, "This conversation never happened of course."

Archie grunts, waiting for the other shoe to drop. To be honest, Archie had always suspected that Claire had worked everything out on her own and decided to have this conversation with him as an excuse to score poison or something similar off him. Archie didn't mind being involved in a bit of palace intrigue on the side, as long as Claire could make an interesting offer. But to his surprise, no such request comes from the Queen as she begins making her way out of his office. Archie hurriedly gets up from his seat to see her off.

"Thank you, Archie." Claire says as Archie opens the door for her, "Sorry to dash off in such a hurry, but the Father is arriving today."

"Father?" Archie asks.

"Oh yes, a travelling priest and his assistants." Claire explains, "I've been attending his sermons held in some other settlements. Its been a great help to me, you know? Very inspiring. I've invited them here for a private service at the manor. You're invited as well."

"Thank you, but no." Archie waves his hand at the paperwork piled up on his table, "Busy, busy, busy. Another time maybe."

Deep in his heart, Archie sneered at the thought of finding refuge in prayer. If the virus had proven anything, there was no god in this world. And if there was a God, Archie would certainly not be welcome before Him.

"Well, try to make it. We'll be starting after dinner." Claire says, "And look! There they are. I have to go. See you."

And with that, Claire waddles off with her handmaidens, the majorette and the trumpeter in tow, towards a group of men dressed in robes and wearing raven's beak plague masks standing at the entrance of the settlement. Upon seeing Claire, the militiamen immediately let the priests in and the Queen leads the small group towards her manor.

"Those guys have got the impressive costumes down at least." Archie comments to no one in particular as he wanders back into his office, closing the door tight.