It already seemed as if all of Luna belonged to him.
Marrok eased into his new position as well as he'd hoped, and now, attending court even proved to be a pleasure. Every noble would bow to him on their way in and do the same after dismissal. Evreything was Your Majesty this, Your Majesty that. Marrok's title nearly made him swoon. His parents were finally out of his hair, and he was the sole ruler of the beautiful white planet. Luna was his, his alone, and he was the crown jewel of the Blackburn line.
Not to mention, his stunning queen kept him quite busy at night—whether in bed or out prospecting, though, depended on the day. Sometimes, when Jannali was particularly bored, it would be both.
But nothing came without a shadow on the canvas. Now that he was king, Marrok found it harder and harder to sneak away to hunt. And with every day, he could tell that it was having an effect on Jannali, by the subtle way her eye would twitch and her lips would purse when he denied her in favour of tackling mounds of paperwork. So, to compensate, they began to claim more than one victim on each outing. They never hunted in the same place twice, and heaven forbid that anything became routine—routine was what Jannali killed to get away from.
It was a prudent practice; it had to be if Jannali allowed it. Marrok remained wary, though, and he simply prayed that the court didn't notice his nerves. But as he granted his bimonthly audience with the head of national security, he soon realized that this was the wrong order of concern.
The reports were tedious and repetitive, problems that Marrok knew all too well about and that seemed to be unsolvable. Seated on his throne with his stomach growling, he forced himself to pay attention to what he was being told. He was hungry, but found it too wearisome to have a servant scramble up and bring him something he would have no appetite for in two minutes' time. Instead, he opted to fiddle with his wedding band and struggle keep himself awake.
Venerable Annotel—a young man of twenty whom Marrok had already begun to tire of—had been given the honour of speaking on his head thaumaturge's behalf. He prattled on about how the many labourers in the poorest areas of the moon were growing even more angry. There had been word of riots, boycotting shifts, increased theft. The many shells in the various cities were being cast out of their homes, losing any wealth they had. It was no surprise that they began forming gangs, taking whatever they could find. It was still unnoticeable in the city-states, but in the mining and lumber sectors, it was shells against gifted, an endless feud.
With a cutesy little grin, Annotel was quick to remind him of this. "I'm not saying that we should incarcerate them, but extra manpower is definitely needed in the outer sectors."
Marrok nodded. "You have the right idea—hire more men on the police force. Send them out with the fifth-tier thaumaturges for extra security. It will create more jobs, and hopefully dispel some of the tension."
"But that's only half of Thaumaturge Haddon's concerns," Annotel continued, flipping through police reports. "The criminal death toll has tripled over the past six months, and as you know, one of our most wanted killers has a tendency to...ah..." he clasped his hands in front of him, "mark her territory."
Marrok leaned back on his throne and said nothing.
"Over two-thirds of the bodies bear her signature."
"And? If you haven't caught her by now the fault lies in you. My father had been ordering her arrest for years now. In fact, I do have to ask if the current state of security is sufficient," he glowered.
Annotel stood frozen with his portscreen in hand. For one terrifying second, Marrok was petrified that he might have made a mistake. "We have reason to believe that she does not work alone, My King."
Marrok blood curdled and he felt ice creeping up his toes. His hunger disappeared amidst the nausea. This was it, he was caught, done for—
Smarten up. The last thing you want is to show your anxiety. You're a king; act like one, damn it.
He forced a look of concern upon his face and relaxed even further into his seat. "Why do you say that?"
"Ugly J," Annotel said the name like an expletive, "has never killed like this before." He displayed an image of a corpse, with an open back where Marrok remembered plunging in a shank. "She has also never killed women before. At least, not under this alias. The force thinks that she has been with a partner, and I must say that I believe them."
Marrok forced his gaze down his nose. It wasn't hard, given that he was all the way on the dais and Annotel stood on the floor, minuscule in comparison to the vast grandeur of the throne room. "You told me last time that you had suspects." They were all wrong, of course, but Marrok wasn't about to begin pointing that out.
"All dead. Two took their own lives and the rest were executed, but Ugly J is still at large."
The king closed his eyes and barely managed to bite back a smile. He pictured how Jannali would've been in this situation; calm, poised, bored, indignant. Her beautiful eyes would bore into Annotel's as she held out her blood-stained hands for all to see, but he wouldn't notice. They would never notice.
The empty room revealed nothing. Where over two hundred nobles usually crowded to meet was now a desert, a twinkling emptiness. These audiences had always been held in private, for the court did not really care to spend their days dealing with rebellious peasants and obscure criminals. Unless it was execution day, of course. Marrok dismissed Annotel with a silent threat: find them.
"Oh, that's just precious," the queen chided, fixing yet another sapphire onto the chain of her newest necklace. Jannali had promised herself that she'd given up tinkering with jewelry like a filthy prospect, but as of late, she needed something to keep her fingers busy. The necklace wasn't for her, oh no—she had her bones, and that was all. But it was something she knew that her airhead daughter would appreciate, with her love for shiny things, so she intended on keeping it for Channary's birthday.
Marrok came up behind her and gently rubbed her shoulders. Jannali melted into his touch—she loved when he would play the doting husband. "He said that they know you're not alone," he laughed.
"Of course I'm not alone! There are others all over Luna!"
Marrok let go of her and quirked an eyebrow. "Pardon?"
"Don't tell me that you thought we were the only killers around," Jannali asked mockingly, setting her unfinished necklace down on the glass table. "I have plenty of friends all over the country."
"And when were you going to introduce me to these 'friends'?"
Jannali shrugged. "Never, I guess. I mean, many of them are gone now. Moved on to greater things."
Marrok took a seat beside the queen and rested his head on her shoulder. "Such as?"
"They've left for Earth. A lot more freedom and ground there; so much easier to hide, with so many places to go."
Marrok's eyes bugged, and he glanced at the door to make sure it was shut; for such an incredulous thing could easily be heard by the staff and spread to the court. He had heard rumours of Lunars running off to their sister planet, but he had always assumed it was just shell ingrates that had nothing left on their motherland. Now, it was serial killers that just came and went as they pleased?
"But," Jannali held up a finger, "I do have a friend who still lives in Elathia. Although it's something I would never do, she has pretty much given up her career to care for her baby."
Marrok stared at her apprehensively. "And would I know her?"
"Surely—she's the daughter of Lord Mira."
The king made a face. Lord Mira had six daughters; how was he supposed to know which one?
"He governs Elathia..." Jannali folded her hands in her lap, "he was the head of finance before he left Artemisia..."
"I know very well who he is. I don't know which one of his daughters is an ex-serial killer."
"Alegria Mira. She's the one who taught me most of what I now." Jannali brushed her hair back. The action was graceful and elegant, like everything the queen did. "Of course, much of my technique is my own, but an eleven-year-old has to learn from somewhere. She was my nanny of sorts."
"And I suppose that makes you mine."
Jannali stood and the stray pearls that had gathered in the folds of her skirt clattered to the floor. She payed them no mind. "I could take you to meet her, if you like. It's been a while since we've seen each other—since before the wedding, I think." Jannali pouted. "Oh, that's sad; a visit is definitely due."
Marrok thought for a moment. It had been a while since he visited Elathia himself; perhaps it would be good for him to leave the stress of court for a little while. The city-state boasted the largest and most relaxing environment on Luna, with rivers and trees and flowers to his heart's content.
"That sounds wonderful," he said, tucking a lock of Jannali's hair behind her ear.
The trip to Elathia took six hours, between the stops in the outer sectors and the small break that Jannali insisted they take in Elysion. Along for the ride was their usual entourage and the young princess, who had never been outside the capital—her governess thought it would be good for Channary to discover her country and insisted that she come along.
Inside the vast dome, the city of Elathia offered a peaceful sight. There were no bustling streets like in Artemisia, and the business centres were far and in-between; instead, vast parks and synthetic meadows rolled amidst the quaint houses. Even the servants here were wealthy in comparison to their comrades elsewhere. Channary pressed her face against the window of the hover in the most unladylike fashion, awed by the empty paradise. It was a different world, inhabited by nobles who preferred the air of peasants.
Only when they arrived at the Mira estate did Jannali allow herself to smile. She hadn't been there in a painfully long time, and she found herself missing the large garden and vast basement where Alegria would show her how to properly dismember corpses. At the sparkling entrance, she found her old friend waiting in an angelic white dress and her hair swaying in the artificial breeze. By her side, a little girl stood bashfully behind her mother's skirts.
The king and queen descended from the ramp after their guards, with Channary and her governess close behind. Alegria beamed and curtsied. "Your Majesty," she said, facing the king. Her voice was a love-sung lullaby that Jannali had once tried to imitate, before she realized that it wouldn't fit her facade. "On behalf of my father, it is my greatest honour to welcome you here in Elathia. I hope that our hospitality does not prove too humble."
Marrok bowed in turn. "Thank you, Your Ladyship. Her Majesty has spoken quite well of you."
Alegria turned to Jannali and her eyes sparkled. She knew very well what she meant to say. Well well, what do we have here?
"Shall we speak in private, Lady Mira?" Jannali spoke softly, meekly, earning her a look of amusement from her friend.
"I've arranged for a little luncheon in my private quarters, where we'll be able to catch up. Will you be joining us, My King?" Marrok nodded. With satisfaction, Alegria turned to her daughter and smoothed her hair. "Sybil, would you like to show Her Highness your playroom?"
Sybil stepped forward and curtsied to the princess. Channary eyed her with scrutiny and stuck next to her governess. Jannali watched this exchange with interest, taking in the sight of Alegria's fabled child—the girl was the spitting image of her mother, with warm honey skin and silken black hair.
Alegria laughed. "Oh, they'll warm up to each other soon. Now please, won't you give me the pleasure of your company?"
Jannali swept past her entourage and up the steps, Marrok following suit. Alegria certainly proved to be a courteous host—the light meal prepared for them was pleasantly fresh and the servants were beyond efficient. From inside Alegria's private quarters, one could admire a lovely pond overgrown with pink blossoms.
"So tell me, Jannali—how did you manage to wrangle in such a fine catch?"
Alone in the comfort of the living room, Alegria was quick to give up all formality and address the queen as if they were girlfriends at the market. If Marrok was bothered, he didn't show it.
"Oh, he's amazing," Jannali sighed, cuddling up to her husband. "At first, I planned to kill him, but he asked to come prospecting and one thing lead to another...isn't that right?"
Marrok smiled, but before he managed to say anything, Alegria cut him off. "I do envy you. It's been so long since Navid left...I miss him every day you know. Sybil always asks about him, and I have to tell the poor thing that he's gone."
Marrok wanted to ask what happened, but something in her tone suggested that he was one of the friends that had moved on to greater things. He decided to stay quiet and felt very much like an outsider as the two women chatted up a storm. Regret and sadness came to fill his silence and he found himself missing James, the days of camaraderie and friendship that he had vowed would last forever. James hadn't been at court for a while now, and Marrok wondered if he would ever return.
He didn't want to doubt it, but somehow, he suspected that James had also moved on to greater things.