A Peculiar Woman

Basil Basileus sat at his desk in his office working through a stack of papers while his prime minister did the same at a smaller desk off to the right. They’d been informed by Rayhona the night before that the Witch of the Northern Wastes, or Nythana, as she wanted to be called, had left through the window the night before and was likely at large in the capital.

Normally, a tribute escaping through a window would be cause to rouse the city guard for a search and recover operation. But not with this one. Nythana had come to the kingdom by choice with a very specific goal in mind. She wouldn’t flee the country.

Basil smiled. She truly was a remarkable woman.

“Your Majesty, you’re daydreaming again,” the stern voice of his prime minister chided.

Basil sighed and glanced over at Daromir, who was adjusting his glasses as he read through a proposition from one of the towns. Basil watched his second-in-command shudder ever-so-slightly the moment he rested eyes on him despite that he was wearing the magic-blocking veil over his cursed eyes. Shuddering or shifting uncomfortably seemed to be the natural reaction to having the Basilisk King’s eyes on you, though even after seventy years, the reason for it wasn’t entirely clear.

“Sorry, Daromir,” Basil said.

“You’ve had your head in the clouds all day,” Daromir complained. “And I know that you’re thinking about that woman.”

“Could you please stop being so hostile towards her?” Basil asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Your Majesty, I am truly happy to see you energized again. Truly. It’s like you regained yourself overnight. But I simply cannot condone making a dark mage the queen.”

Basil heaved a sigh. Daromir’s disapproval wasn’t entirely unwarranted. Basileus had a nasty history with dark mages. After all, Basil’s own grandfather, King Romaine Basileus, had been a dark mage that would use his own people to fuel his dark experiments. His legacy still haunted Basileus in the form of Basil’s life-taking gaze. Even though the wicked man had died long before Daromir was born, Daromir held a grudge against him and hated dark mages for what he had done.

“Hating her isn’t fair,” Basil said. “She’s just as much a victim of dark mages as I am. Perhaps even more. How would you like to live a whole century with fungi growing inside your lifeless body?”

“That lifeless body is part of the problem,” Daromir said. “She can’t carry on your bloodline.”

This man is a troubled parrot. He repeats the same thing over and over.

“Daromir, we’ve discussed this,” Basil said with a frown. “I have no intention of carrying on a cursed bloodline.”

Daromir didn’t press the issue, instead switching to a different topic.

“Moreover,” he said, “I happen to know that she isn’t your type.”

“My type?” Basil asked. “What on earth is my type?”

“Your Majesty has always been partial towards women with larger chests and more color in their skin.”

The pen in Basil’s hand dropped as he gaped in surprise. Then his brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you even know that?”

“How long have I served you, Your Majesty?”

“Your whole life,” Basil said. “What does that have to do with you knowing my preferences for women? It isn’t as though I’ve ever pursued a romantic relationship during your lifetime.”

“There was no need,” Daromir said, running his fingers over his slicked-back, dark brown hair. “Your Majesty doesn’t show your preferences much, but after thirty years of being with you every day, I’ve learned to catch the slightest clues in your reactions.”

I’m uncertain whether to be impressed or frightened, Basil thought.

“You know,” he said aloud. “If you used those powers of observation with your own relationships, you wouldn’t have been divorced three times in the past fifteen years.”

“Your Majesty, my divorces have little to do with my capacity for observation and everything to do with my inability to return home for more than a day or two each month. Since you don’t have a queen, we’ve been forced to do work that would normally be divided between three people between just the two of us. As my first wife put it, since you won’t take a Queen, I’ve become your de facto Queen.”

Basil grimaced.

And I found out last year that there are books written about that in circulation among certain circles in the kingdom, he said to himself. I still refuse to so much as mention such things to Daromir. He’d fly off the handle if he ever found out people were fantasizing about him in that way.

“If you’re so overworked that your marriages are failing, why are you opposed to me taking a queen?” he asked aloud.

“Because she is a dark mage.”

Aaand the conversation has gone full circle, Basil thought.

“If you’re so keenly aware of my reactions, tell me about my reactions towards Nythana.”

“You’ve known her for less than twenty-four hours, however, you’re positively smitten with her, Your Majesty,” Daromir said with annoyance thick in his voice. “You haven’t stopped smiling since she crashed into your life. Nobody else has ever spoken to you so fearlessly before, and nobody else has ever been so bold in approaching you before either. She’s completely enthralled you with her fearlessness.”

Fearlessness? Basil wondered. Is that what it is? It’s true that she’s the only one that I’ve met since I was cursed that didn’t show the slightest fear towards my eyes. Even Daromir and the servants will always look away if the cover over my eyes so much as flutters in the breeze. It’s something they try to hide, but it’s easy to see that they’re wary of me… for good reasons. Just looking me in the eye is a death sentence… except for her. She looks me in the eyes fearlessly and intentionally. Even if she’s only doing it for the life energy she needs to survive, she’s the first person in the seventy years since Grandfather did this to me that I can share that simple connection with.

He scratched his scalp through his dark blonde hair.

Is that really all there is to my feelings?

He thought back to the day before when she’d called out to him during the attack. The desperation in her eyes had been a welcome breath of fresh air. Even though he knew now that she was only after his life energy, that moment made him think that perhaps there were people out there that could see him in a positive light.

And then, when she looked into his eyes, she’d said they were beautiful. For seventy years, every person that had seen his eyes dropped dead with their faces frozen in terror that lingered until their body withered away to dust. Even seeing his eyes through the veil that blocks their deadly magic made people look away and avoid his face. And yet, she’d smiled as she looked into his eyes.

Heat rose within his chest as he remembered her smile.

Ah, he thought. I’ve definitely fallen for her. But is it truly alright for me to love her one-sidedly and force myself on her? Is it really alright to force her to ease my loneliness in exchange for her survival?

He pinched the ridge of his nose.

When I think of it like that, it truly is a disgusting proposal that I made, isn’t it? I’m practically telling her to satisfy me in exchange for her life.

He shook his head.

No. I can’t be sentimental about things relating to the kingdom. If we go through with this, she’ll provide protection and security to the people in exchange for access to my abundant life energy. A purely business transaction… so why does thinking like that make my heart ache?

A knock from the doors leading to the balcony behind the office made Basil and Daromir jump. Standing in the doorway with one of the doors open beside her was a woman with pitch-dark hair wearing a dark cloak around her shoulders.

“Nythana,” Basil said, standing up so quickly that he nearly toppled his chair.

“We do have entrances, you know?” Daromir said sternly.

“Why use the front door when there’s a perfectly good balcony to be accessed?” she responded without a second’s hesitation.

“How did you open that door so silently?”

“The cloak I’m wearing smothers sounds like footsteps as well as the creaks and groans of the things I walk across or open.”

She gave a twirl to make the tail of the cloak flutter about her waist.

What was that twirl? By the goddess, she’s too endearing.

“Why would you need to craft something like that?” Daromir asked, seemingly unaffected by the display of childlike energy she’d just presented.

Despite the outright suspicion Daromir was directing at her, Nythana gave him a small grin.

“I didn’t craft it,” she said. “It’s a trophy from one of the dark mages I hunted.”

Daromir glowered at her without responding, so Basil spoke.

“Have you given any thought to my offer?” he asked.

“Yes, in fact,” she said. “That’s why I’ve come.”

Basil nodded, holding his breath in anticipation.

“You’ve made a wonderful kingdom,” she said with a smile. “I’m not sure if someone like me can fall in love, but if that’s acceptable for you, it would be my privilege to be your Queen.”