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“The way things are set up, poverty is a self-perpetuating cycle,” a middle-aged woman who was dressed as finely as any of the merchants insisted.
“I’ve known good, honest people who have had to work twice as hard for half as much as any of us have.
And did we not all inherit our shops and businesses from our fathers and mothers? ”
“I certainly didn’t,” the previous merchant said with a snort. “I worked my way into what I have now.”
“You married an omega from a wealthy family and used the subsidy your father-in-law gave you to ‘work your way up’,” someone else called out.
Osric raised his hands to stop the debate.
“We are not here to discuss the merits of the poor or the lack thereof,” he said.
“And this is precisely how an evil man who cares only for himself has ended up king over all of us. If you continue to split hairs and find something wrong with everyone around you, we will never be united enough to throw off the shackles that have been placed on us.”
I was struck by that statement. It seemed far too true to me. For years, I’d heard talk of people who were unhappy about my father’s rule, but they always seemed to find fault with the noblemen or merchants who could have done something to stand up to Father.
“The time has come to put differences aside so that we might do what has seemed impossible before now,” Osric said, capturing everyone’s attention once more.
“There will come a time when we can spell out the details of the new kingdom we will create when we are victorious. For now, all of our efforts, all of our concentration, must go into fighting together to overthrow a tyrant.”
The majority of the men in the room cried out in agreement. A few applauded.
“Now,” Osric went on. “If you are willing, we need to discuss the resources we have available to fund an army that can fight Freslik’s and win the battle.”
There was a shift in the mood of the room as Osric went on, discussing the force he already had at the ready and asking the various merchants and noblemen in the room what sort of support they would be able to provide.
It became less about making speeches and inspiring loyalty and more about calculating strength.
I found all of that harder to pay attention to, especially when my stomach gurgled with hunger.
“But I just ate,” I said, staring down at my bump.
Argus, who still held my hand, chuckled. “You’ve got a rapidly growing egg inside of you,” he said with more than a little smugness. “You both need all the nourishment you can get.”
He pulled me gently over to the side of the room, where a table filled with various snacks had been laid out.
“I don’t want to miss anything,” I said, diving into the snacks and picking up a piece of dark bread with a bit of cheese on it. I bit into it, chewed, then spoke with my mouth full. “I ‘ant to ‘elp the ‘ar effort.”
Argus seemed amused by my determination, which I didn’t exactly like. “My strong-minded omega,” he said, picking up a piece of summer sausage and handing it to me. “You would go into battle singlehandedly to fight your father if you were allowed to.”
“Allowed to?” I asked before biting into the sausage.
Argus smirked. “I have no qualms about your need to fight back against your father’s rule,” he said. “I understand how important it is to you to help the cause. But I have no intention of allowing you to fly into danger on your own.”
“And why not?” I argued, mostly for the sake of arguing. Argus didn’t really know me. I didn’t want him to think I could be controlled or that I was meek and submissive, like Misha. “You don’t think I could fight a war on my own?”
Argus laughed, which drew a little bit of attention from some of the merchants who were talking amongst themselves at the back of the room where we were. “You are beginning to convince me that you could at least make an effort to fight your father on your own.”
“I could,” I said with a firm nod, then bit into another piece of bread.
I felt a little foolish, arguing as stubbornly as I was. I knew I couldn’t fight a war all on my own. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to be in the thick of the action when the time came, however.
I finished my bite of bread, brushed my hands off, then faced Argus determinedly and asked, “What do we need to do to bring this egg into the world? I know that my other brothers have nursemaids to take care of the eggs while they help with the cause. I want to find someone to care for our egg as well so that we can fight.”
I thought I sounded strong and mature, but Argus smiled and shook his head at me as if I were being entirely unreasonable.
“Ah, my lovely boy,” he said. “Always in a hurry, always in a rush.”
Those words stopped my thoughts cold and had the hair standing up on the back of my neck. Only one other person had said those exact words to me before. Councilor Dormas.
As if the world around us had heard as well, Cousin Osric’s voice suddenly cut through the swirl of thoughts surrounding me to say, “Fortunately, we have help on the inside. Our side has had a spy in my uncle’s midst for several years now.”
He gestured toward us, or more specifically, toward Argus. The room full of merchants turned to look at Argus as well.
Cousin Osric hadn’t said anything specific, but the truth suddenly slammed into me like a bolt of lightning. How could I have been so ignorant and obtuse? Of course Argus was Councilor Dormas. Why had I never noticed until that moment?
“You,” I said quietly, seething with upset.
I’d mated and bonded with Councilor Dormas, the old man who had made me copy stories, stories about himself, for endless hours when I could have been preparing for the coming war.
Councilor Dormas, who had been inches away from me for the last several years, but who had allowed my father to torment and imprison me anyhow. “You lied to me,” I hissed.
“Lied to you?” Argus asked, his eyes going wide with shock and offense. “I never did such a thing. I never denied who I was or deliberately held anything back from you.”
I barked a laugh, only vaguely aware that we were being watched. “That right there is a lie. You kept yourself hidden from me for years, even though you knew my life was miserable. You could have swooped in and saved us at any time, brought us all out of our misery. You could have?—”
The rest of my accusations were cut off as a servant rushed into the room, her eyes wide with panic.
“He’s coming!” she gasped to the room. “He’s here, in the front hall.”
“Who’s coming?” the merchant who owned the house said, stepping away from the others. “Who is in the front hall?”
“King Freslik!” the servant shouted, her voice high and tight. “The king is here!”