Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2017 5:28:36 GMT
Summer was on its way, and that meant the games were coming. Word had it Kia had decided to fight again, some little stunt against warriors in training to open the games. Frankly, it was ridiculous. Father never would have let him get away with this. (Actually, their father probably would have approved immensely, but that just made Malia even more irritated.) It was all just a show, a way to buy the people’s loyalty. And the infuriating thing was that it worked. The people adored Kiawah. Two years into his reign and he was already immensely popular. It made Malia’s blood boil. He was a usurper. A thief who had taken everything. And there wasn’t a joken thing she could to about it.
That was the bit that really irked Malia. When Kiawah had taken the throne, she had told herself it was just a matter of time. Eventually he would prove himself incompetent and his advisors would have to oust him in favor of a more legitimate ruler. Namely her. But Kiawah was doing the exact opposite of failing. So now it seemed the only way Malia would ever get her hands on the crown was if her darling brother died. That left Malia stuck in a strange sort of limbo. Kiawah allowed her a few lessons so she would be prepared to rule in case of an emergency, but otherwise he kept her as far away from politics as possible. And with the one thing she had lived and breathed for gone, Malia didn’t know what to do with herself.
So she had created a new pastime over the last two years – harassing Kiawah. If she couldn’t get him out of the throne, she could at least make it as uncomfortable as possible. He didn’t get to just toss her out. Not when he was the one who wasn’t supposed to be here. So Malia poked and prodded and eavesdropped on meetings where the architecture allowed and found reasons to interrupt when it didn’t. All with a beautifully polite smile on her face.
Today she found her darling older brother pouring over a map. Probably something to do with the upcoming games. Malia took one look at the guard, stationed inside merely as a precaution, and the man promptly bowed out. Most of the palace staff had learned by now to leave the siblings alone. Kiawah had started the habit under the assumption they would form some emotional bond, but now it was just so no one else was present for the arguing. Appearances and all that. Besides, they all knew Malia wouldn’t actually harm him. While assassination might fly in clans like Azgeda, Yujleda would never accept it, especially not when the leader was one so beloved. Besides, deep down Malia didn’t really want Kiawah dead. Just gone. Or barring that, as miserable as she was.
“I hear you’re opening the games again.” Her voice was perfectly conversational as she walked over to him. Only someone who knew her well would sense the irritation. “You’ll have to be careful. It would be a shame if you got yourself killed.” Her expression was perfectly innocent. Not so with the mocking concern in her eyes. In the unlikely event that Kiawah did actually manage to get himself killed, the country would surely be distraught. Malia not so much. Despite two years of living in the same place, she had formed no attachment to her brother whatsoever. He was an enemy. An obstacle. Nothing more.
@kiawah
That was the bit that really irked Malia. When Kiawah had taken the throne, she had told herself it was just a matter of time. Eventually he would prove himself incompetent and his advisors would have to oust him in favor of a more legitimate ruler. Namely her. But Kiawah was doing the exact opposite of failing. So now it seemed the only way Malia would ever get her hands on the crown was if her darling brother died. That left Malia stuck in a strange sort of limbo. Kiawah allowed her a few lessons so she would be prepared to rule in case of an emergency, but otherwise he kept her as far away from politics as possible. And with the one thing she had lived and breathed for gone, Malia didn’t know what to do with herself.
So she had created a new pastime over the last two years – harassing Kiawah. If she couldn’t get him out of the throne, she could at least make it as uncomfortable as possible. He didn’t get to just toss her out. Not when he was the one who wasn’t supposed to be here. So Malia poked and prodded and eavesdropped on meetings where the architecture allowed and found reasons to interrupt when it didn’t. All with a beautifully polite smile on her face.
Today she found her darling older brother pouring over a map. Probably something to do with the upcoming games. Malia took one look at the guard, stationed inside merely as a precaution, and the man promptly bowed out. Most of the palace staff had learned by now to leave the siblings alone. Kiawah had started the habit under the assumption they would form some emotional bond, but now it was just so no one else was present for the arguing. Appearances and all that. Besides, they all knew Malia wouldn’t actually harm him. While assassination might fly in clans like Azgeda, Yujleda would never accept it, especially not when the leader was one so beloved. Besides, deep down Malia didn’t really want Kiawah dead. Just gone. Or barring that, as miserable as she was.
“I hear you’re opening the games again.” Her voice was perfectly conversational as she walked over to him. Only someone who knew her well would sense the irritation. “You’ll have to be careful. It would be a shame if you got yourself killed.” Her expression was perfectly innocent. Not so with the mocking concern in her eyes. In the unlikely event that Kiawah did actually manage to get himself killed, the country would surely be distraught. Malia not so much. Despite two years of living in the same place, she had formed no attachment to her brother whatsoever. He was an enemy. An obstacle. Nothing more.
@kiawah
