Wiping pale whipped cream from his heavy upper lip, the cake demolished between the two rulers, Count Orun sank into his garden chair. He sank and sank until finally, his eyes were on the same level as the child king, an experience that Mike tried not to flinch away from. Count Orun wore a long sleeveless twist of dark robes; against the mild-mannered grays and greens of the Courtyard, he was a stark shadow. One's eyes had to struggle to make sense of him- where did his neck end and the tunic begin? His skin, his folds of asymmetrical cloth, and his eyes were all brown so dark it should be called black.
"Why do you leave such colorful little trinkets on the table?" asked Count Orun, casually snaring the Rubik's cube in his long fingers without asking.
"They help me focus," Midas replied, his eyes flitting between Orun and his work. Orun threw the cube into the air with an elegant twist of his wrist, as if it was a baseball.
"I thought you hated distractions." Count Orun retorted, he caught the cube and threw it up in the air again with the same liquid motion. It flew even higher this time.
"Those are not distractions, they help me figure things out." King Midas said, his eyes following the height of the Rubik's cube. It landed perfectly in Orun's waiting palm with a loud Smack.
Orun's voice was edged with derision, "Shouldn't you put these toys away when your working, so they don't become a distraction?"
Smack!
"Those Are Not Toys!" Mike finally screamed.
Count Orun gave the courtesy of looking surprised by the outburst, or maybe not surprised. Had they been sitting in the sun, all of Orun's details would have fallen into place. The clothes would have been distinct from the man, his more affable features, the handsome cut of his face would catch the light as they always did. But they sat in the shade, where his lines were blurred, his skin, his cloth, his eyes were composed of a brown so dark that they had no other name than black. He seemed one solid mass, a slice of night misplaced into daytime. The only pieces of Orun that shone through clearly were the whites of his eyes. And the whites of his teeth.
Orun licked those teeth as he opened his mouth to speak, "Are you always so easily offended, Friend, when other's touch what is yours?"
Midas stilled, letting a deadness shape the expression of his eyes. He could play this game too, and he was very familiar with this use of the term 'friend'. It is not in any dictionary, but if King Midas were to pen this other use of 'Friend', he would say that it was a pet name, one given in the spirit of spite or splintering mercy to those which you are willing to destroy. Or those willing to destroy you.
"Of course not. I can't be, then I'd be angry all the time." Orun began to speak but Midas cut him off with a stretch and yawn, a melodic little sound more suited to a kitten than a king. "After all," he continued, "I own nearly everything."
Those floating eyes tightened, distinct and lion-like in their rage. You do not own me, they said.
But I do, thought Midas. And through his lingering baby fat and angelic little face, he could still convey malice through the tiniest of smirks. Silence.
"Is it true that you converted?" Midas asked brightly, breaking off the staring match to signal for more cake.
"You heard of that? Talk about a slow news day," said Orun, his fury seemingly gone.
"Not at all, Otta. Your story is inspiring. A man of war turning over a new leaf to become a man of faith."
"I am very fortunate that my guru found spiritual potential in me despite all I've done." Orun said in a very practiced way as if he'd had to give many interviews about it.
"So you've taken your spiritual vows."
"I have", Orun said mildly.
"Must be hard for you, giving so many things"
"I've had my fill of vices, I'm ready to give them up." Orun said, sounding old and fatherly.
Midas suppressed a smile, voice lilting with idle curiosity. "Even the vice of Killing? Is that so easy to give up?" Orun's eyes flared.
For a moment the heat of his rage distorted the grey hazy light, his eyes seemed icy blue for a sliver of an instant. This killing gaze was the last thing that hundreds of men had ever seen. Calling Orun a Count was an attempt by the aristocracy to quell and handle him because a Count was familiar and safe and domesticated. They even dressed him the domesticated part sometimes. Royal purples, Blues, and gold were the colors that the likes of Midas, Prince Edwin, and Li often subscribed to, especially when presenting themselves to each other. They were like extravagant birds who had known no predators and were left amongst themselves to design complex rituals in which to best each other. And on occasion Orun could be persuaded to partake in the charade. But Black is the color that bests hides dried blood, so black is what he wore the most. Stripped down as he currently was, no pleasantries, nothing in his folds of pitch black canvas to even signal his rank- it was easy to see Orun for who he was to the rest of the world.
The Warlord's icy glare melted and swallowed into the crinkles of a crooked smile. "And what of your Vices, little king?" asked Orun. "Have you never heard of the prices of greed?"
Orun's eyes widened, this time in clear disbelief. What else could he possibly picking a fight over? But then he sighed. He had to remember that King or conquerer Midas was firstly a child, it is possible that he had meant no offense... though he doubted it.
"Yes, your Majesty." Orun said, now the picture of respectful dignity, "It is about that."
"What about it?" Mike was relaxed, casually playing with his fidget spinner.
Orun looked around using only his eyes, Otta Li Kong was just the sort of paranoid politician who would bug his own home. The courtyard seemed relatively safe though, only a few security cameras at each corner. Through gritted teeth so that his lips could not be read, "Why have you left a heavily armed battalion in my city."
"Did not all of my boys have left yet? Strange that."
"This wasn't part of the agreement."
Midas wasn't even looking at Orun now, beckoning for more deserts from his servants. "Well, our transaction isn't over."
Orun was straining to keep his lips still as he hissed his frustration. "This isn't just a transaction. The extraction of which you've demanded could take over 50 years."
"I didn't demand anything. I requested and you said yes. And don't be so pessimistic about the timeline, I'm sure now that we are working together we can reach our goals in 10."
"So I'm to deal with a thousand of your little pests nesting in my city, picking fights in my streets for the next decade?"
A servant came around with more cake. Midas began to poke at it with his fork, "Hopefully not even that-"
"I am not allowing it."
"It takes as long as it takes."
"And what's to stop you from sending even more men. Crowding my citizens with your stinking encampments until you have a chokehold on my capital?" What's to stop the empire from trying to swallow my home? Quit toying with me!
Midas looked up at Orun then, eyebrows coming together in thought. When the child spoke, he could not suppress his little mouth from quirking into the smallest smirk. "I suppose you'll just have to trust me," said Mike, fully aware of the irony.
And just like that, the cake was sent flying.-+--+--<@>--+--<@>--+--+-
Li was watching with interest as the conversation between Count Orun and King Midas heated up, it was a rare thing for Count Orun to show so many emotions in court. He liked to maintain a subdued persona in front of nobility, but the child king was apparently dancing on his last nerve. Perhaps it was a talent all children possessed, driving inexperienced adults out of their minds.
Caitlyn turned up the brightness on the surveillance monitor, bumping shoulders with him as she did. They were both watching the drama unfold from a tiny surveillance hub, crammed with monitors, processors, and nests of wires.
Hidden in the ancient stone masonry of the Kong family fortress lies 3 such security hubs, little black box rooms only accessible by navigating the twists and folds of the most secret and chaotic servant's passageways. One needed an intimate knowledge of the fortress to even find one of them, and they were scattered far apart in the building so that one had to lay siege to several parts of the fortress at once in order to shut the system down. Now there were almost no microphones in this place- just cameras. Li wanted to be able to speak freely in his own home, wanted his servants to be allowed to talk shit about him behind his back because he was pretty sure that he wasn't someone who was easy to work for. But more to the point, it would be a deep betrayal of trust and an international incident if his associates discovered such a bug.
Now Li did occasionally bring in some trusted individuals who might also be lip readers, and if they happened to repeat what they could see mouthed within view of the camera while Li was in the room, well, that was fair game.
But then the cake went flying, the gleam of icing and cake guts catching the sunlight telling Li all he really needed to know. He and Caitlyn both emitted gasps that were giddy, almost turning to laughter. Did that really just happen? There was Orun's black arm still outstretched, the bottom of his fist imprinted with whipped cream. Midas looked merely shocked. And then the servants of King Midas swarmed their little king, he was bodily plucked from his chair and carried toward his guest rooms. The largest of his entourage formed a wall of human bodies, glaring warily at the warlord, slowly backing away from him.
Orun spat, decidedly unimpressed with this lackluster defense being put up against him. Li looked through the screen and saw himself, saw that the man was also unimpressed with himself, his loss of face. The mistakes that haunt me loudest are the ones that were in retrospect preventable.
"What on earth do you think they were talking about?" asked Caitlyn, her face expressive since they were alone. It was a rare treat for him to see her so awed and openly curious.
"Midas has made his play for Nach Olsten."
Caitlyn's face paled, "Do you mean... an attack? But that would violate the international codes of conduct."
"It's not an outright attack, Midas has been buying up contracts, offering huge loans to nearly every industry, having his proxy's outbidding locals on land sales, moving his troupes into the capital... a friendly occupation. "
Her big brown eyes were sharpening, her chest puffing slightly with angered pride, "He thinks he can buy Nach Olsten."
"He's certainly trying."
Her voice was reverberating slightly in the stone room, lending weight to her words as she thought out loud. "And now he thinks he can buy us."
Nodding, "But he cannot buy Kaipen Nung the way he is slowly entangling himself with everything N.O."
"Because we are literally never for sale." the property values of Kaipen were so high that people never wanted to sell, and for the most part, it all still belonged to Li's family.
"And KN's role as referee and marketplace guarantees too much competition for him to dominate our time and attention as a customer."
"So to get us to do whatever it is he asks, he needs to offer us something rarer than money."
"And so he offers you the royal lineage."
"Which does supply no small measure of security and influence that we would never have had access to. Wealth and Power. Near endless opportunities for my... descendants."
"And our city...?"
"She would lose her independence... we would be entangled."
"So do you think it's worth it?"
Li got out of his chair, looking off to the middle distance. "It would change everything eventually... if I got married. It would be an end to generations of Kongs ruling Kaipen Nung alone through the ages. We would be... incorporated."
"...Why do you dread that so much?"
Li groaned, hands rubbing over the angles of his face, "Oh, Caity... How do I put this... If after thousands of years of my family ruling this city- building it, protecting it, fighting for it, birthing and dying inside it- if I was the weak link- if I was the one who sold all of that history and legacy down the river-"
"OH. Well... not everyone would see it like that."
"It's still a takeover, it doesn't matter if it's with lawyers or guns."
"It's still too early to think that he wants to take over completely, Li. Let's look at what pieces are currently on the board. He wants our support. He wants a guarantee of it- as he makes his moves on whatever bigger game he's playing."
"Right. So...we know he wants bonds and ties on whoever should rule Kaipen..."
"There are a lot of reasons to want that."
"And he won't tell me his reasons are until I'm already married most likely. I hate to say it, but I actually don't know what to say to him. To decline him risks insulting him, which risks violence."
"I know."
"Is it the topic? Is it because of your family? You don't want to do anything that would have disappointed them?"
Li 's eyes flicked toward her for a moment before looking at the ceiling, "I suppose. Yeah. To a degree. If I fail Kaipen than I'm pretty sure Minxia will feel obligated to kill me." He has a wry smile, half-joking.
"She would never. She loves you too much."
Li shrugs, eyes back on the screens, blueish light giving him a sharp alien silhouette. "She wouldn't need to anyway. I would have already killed myself."
He's still got what's left of a smile on his lips, but there's no humor. He's siply stating fact.
"Li..." Caitlyn's voice is tender, loving, concerned; Li doesn't hear it. " I want you to pick out some investigators, Caity. Some KNNA soldiers as well. A small team, trustworthy and subtle. Start combing through our own. I doubt Mike would have come all this way without feeling he had a good ally among us. Run all this through Talon."
"Of course."
"I can't solve this right now, we'll have to move on to the next thing."
"Alright- but Li... are you okay?" She tries to touch him, to soothe his shoulders, but the fabric of the suit is too thick for her warmth to come through. Li is far away, he heard but does not hear the question.
"What's next, Caitlyn? Let's move onto what's next. "
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