Morally I am defeated, but she was so cute, she had spent all day with me.
We had an argument, I don’t remember what happened. I’m not sure I would share if I did. I’m married to a wizard, Witch… my body still considers her human, but now a much more attractive one. If she… it… was once human perhaps it isn’t now.
Oh you are curious about our argument? That information is private. Use your imagination… we calmed down a bit, sobered up...
The queen used her magic to clean up herself, no further servants were exposed to the events. Perhaps some cooks heard some odd noises. But they were busy.
We got dressed, me in my robes, the queen taking some time to examine her new body, eventually deciding on replacing her maid outfit with a conjured sort of sun dress that left nearly her entire back exposed. Naturally my hand belonged there.
The body my queen had stolen was named “Celeste. ” Pigtails was “Fleur.” I could go through all the names of the dead harem. They sounded French. I guess they were a harem for a day. Less than a day? Two and a half meals?
We had ventured into a massive underground morgue. Down a darker tunnel, the light colors on my queen’s dress illuminating our path with a dim candle-like flickering.
Unseen servants followed us with the procession of nubile and lifeless bodies, each with a brass nametag hung around their neck. I carried a hammer, the queen was going to carve away stone, the girl was to be buried and then I appended the nametag. The queen had told me not to touch the dead bodies when I picked up her old body.
I don’t know why, but despite the atmosphere, the Queen was not focused on the somber reality of our task.
“O lion, the keep is purchasing citrus at a quantity that we cannot possibly manage to consume!”
“Is it any less wasteful than the slaughter of a dozen young women?” I responded.
The Dove, The wine server’s body, Celeste’s body, the name struck me as a salacious mismatch for the quiet soul, became self conscious. A clay tablet appeared in her hand comparing casualties of a past war.
“One would not blink at the slaughter of younger men or boys. If their deaths saved some symbolic article of the king they would be heroic and I not their killer even if responsible. In a best case scenario a small local town would commission a statue of the sacrifice, more likely they would be buried in an unmarked grave. Tis a necessary cost of war… no statecraft… I would have done the same in peacetime.”
Then another justification. Not waiting for my disagreement. The tunnel we traveled down opened into a more natural cave. Flickers of bronze nameplates dotted the cave walls like the stars in the sky.
“This is a metric which measures your compliance and happiness, the stability and success of the realm directly correlates with your willing conscientiousness.”
When that guy sung about wanting a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket he was talking about my wife.
I hated that guy. There was no way he was prepared for what he asked for.
We were treading into a big cave, a natural cave, only the path we walked was hewn by the hands of sinners. Tiful… Tifulshole.. Teufelshöhle? Bah, I was an english not a central european, devil’s cave.
“Besides I got the idea from your dreams, You dreamed once of a war started where a school full of girls was struck by a cabal’s lightning.”
I remember that dream, and there was a little more to it she either missed or left out… it was also official narrative in the old world. I guess that counts as a dream. But not one I wanted my queen to be adopting.
“I know you want to leave this world of realpolitik.” The words escaped the beautiful wine girl’s lips in her delicate and understated low frequency voice. “Don’t, without your big heart we really would become evil.” I don’t know why but that voice relaxes me in ways that no other experience can.
“Generally humans view the death of women, especially the death of attractive women, as extremely wasteful and cruel.” I replied.
“Exactly the problem, you are being needlessly emotional, their lives are not special, their attachment to you is.” The living body of the dead girl continued and placed a hand on my flank. “Which is one of the reasons I like you so much.”
Who was the original Dove? In all their bodies had they never learned tact? That language sounded like a man’s.
But I cannot identify angels or demons. I must seek some form of control over myself before I begin to disagree. My ‘new’ Queen genuinely does act as a soothing siren song. As my body sobers I can feel the quiet relaxation and security of keeping her in my presence. If only I ignore the fact that her body is stolen.
Why am I so shallow? Sensitive? Is this biochemistry? How is it a king is less free and more tortured than the loser of twenty twenty six?
Both of us in an illusionary cage…
Let’s assume the queen is right. All of what happened was for the best. I should just enjoy the brief time I have here. Be complicit. Lashing out now… what would it accomplish?
And be as evil as the demons of the past life?
But in this world I didn’t get a bad deal at all.
The maids got a bad deal.
Nobody else got a bad deal did they?
Most people got bad deals…
I must be missing something… There must be a solution to this puzzle.
Maybe the queen got a bad deal in the modern paradigm. She’s working overtime to keep a dumb meathead like myself physically happy.
But there is more to life than good and bad transactions. I want off this ride.
“Crying is not an emergency.” I had never heard such bull. A human cries because there is an emergency they cannot stop.
Which is why I was unhappy.
I was unhappy because I became attached to the world. The root of unhappiness.
How happy was the queen?
Could I make her happier? Should I?
How could I make her happier? I should just ask her?
“Whatever you do, don’t ask it how many times it’s swapped your own body. She likely searched for a weak loser to occupy this one. I like this body.” That was probably the voice of wisdom in the back of my mind.
Pull the lever to kill one trolly sleeper, save five.
Or perhaps pull the lever to just to wave at the occupants.
Hopefully there was more than one track.
“Forgive me queen, how can I make things easier for you? Are you unhappy managing the war?”
My mind was racing unproductively, “Oh no some sexy cute demon is keeping me as a pet! I swear it's not as fun as it sounds!” sounded like the title of a modern anime, my life was slop now.
Too soon?
I laugh at bad things. Sorry.
“Well I want to know why we have such a sudden demand for citrus on the books.” the queen responded. “Odd things like that give me anxiety.”
heh… oops I may as well tell the truth. “OK I may have recommended that soldiers have access to citrus fruits.”
“Why?” the queen was incredulous.
“It’s almost summer they are going to be melting in the heat, trust me, it’s good for them to get an orange or two.”
“Is that why? Is this some form of wizardry I have not studied?” The queen had given me a way out.
“You could say that… but surely a varied diet is not magic.”
We stopped.
“This is the spot by the way, I had these barrows carved just the other day…” My queen was shameless.