I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.

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The View from the Top

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What do you do when a king asks you to eat at his table? You accept and hope that the whiplash from your life turning upside-down doesn't kill you.

This isn't actually the first time I've eaten with King Theb-sarr. That was in another lifetime, though, where I was pretending to be royalty and which ended with an accidental tumble down the stairs. Long story. Anyway, this is the first time I've eaten at the same table with pretty much the entire royal family.

At the far left of the table is the terrifying Prince Mudeenu. Seated with the other three royals, the lack of a family resemblance is striking. His spiky scales are rough and yellow, a common color among the Mipedians. He's wearing that black armor again. He seems to wear it everywhere. He's also wearing a blue colored cape and a gold colored loincloth. I think those rectangular scraps of cloth that hang in front of the crotch are called loincloths, anyway.

Surprise of all surprises, Mudeenu doesn't look happy that I'm sitting with the royals. He probably won't start anything while everyone's watching, but I have to remember that in yet another lifetime he had me beaten to death. Same long story as last time. Maybe I'll write a book about it.

To Mudeenu's right is King Theb-sarr, a large and muscular sapphire blue Mipedian that you can't stop looking at. Seriously. If Theb-sarr wants you to look at him, you're going to look at him. It's like the opposite of a Mipedian's normal invisibility. He's actually dressed for the occasion, unlike his nephew Mudeenu. He's wearing an elaborate off-white shendyt with a brilliant gold belt, and his shirtless chest is instead covered in maybe a dozen golden chain necklaces.

Theb-sarr's face is etched with concern. His official announcement of who his heir would be had been overshadowed by some complaining Humans. I'm sitting at this table as a direct result of that interruption. It was a gesture of good faith, true, but I can't help feeling like I'm also some kind of decoy or scapegoat.

To Theb-sarr's right is the Crown Prince Iflar. He has smooth, pearl white scales and a thin muscular frame. He's wearing a white miniskirt-like cloth around his legs and a similarly colored vest, both embroidered with gold thread. It's honestly not a good look, and besides, at a glance he simply looks naked. He also does not have hair, like I'd previously assumed. Turns out it was a wig. Go figure. Like his father, he's also weighed down with jewelry.

Iflar looks incredibly uncomfortable. I get the feeling that becoming king is something he isn't looking forward to. Or maybe he doesn't like wearing his outfit. Whatever the cause, the crown prince is not happy.

To Iflar's right, as well as to my left, is Princess Isis, who I have not seen before today. Life her father and brother, she has gem-like scales. Hers are red, though more like garnets than rubies. She has a round head with a crown of spikes, a thin muzzle, and thin golden eyes. She has a slim frame unlike the rest of her family, probably from a lack of combat experience of training. She's wearing a blue dress with a black trim. She has little jewelry in comparison to Theb-sarr and Iflar, just a couple bracelets and a necklace.

I can't tell what Isis is thinking. She's wearing her face like an expert poker player, cold and impassive. She does drum her fingers on the edge of the table occasionally, as if waiting for something. She's also facing slightly away from me. I can't tell if it's to distance herself from me or what.

Isis glances at me. "...You are staring."

Oops! I feel my face flush and I turn back to my plate. I pick up a piece of meat with a fork and raise it to my mouth. My elbow bumps Isis's elbow. "Sorry," I mutter.

Isis brushes her arm and looks at me. "You are left hand dominant."

"Yes," I mutter.

Isis presses her lips together. "Such is a sign of good fortune among Mipedians."

I shake my head. "Not with Humans. It used to be an ill omen in Earth's past."

"Funny how our worlds can be so alike yet so different," Isis muses. She lifts her glass and delicately takes a sip from it. She sets the glass down and asks, "So, Michael, how are you enjoying the view from the top?"

I look out at the crowd in front of us. Humans keep stealing critical glances at me before turning back to their food, while Mipedians keep shooting nasty looks that the Humans who had interrupted Theb-sarr's announcement. "It could be better," I finally say.

"Quite," Isis agrees. She lifts a small plate from the center of the table and presents it to me. "Lamba hog?"

It looks like a tiny pig cooked in pasta sauce. It even has tiny eyes. "Uh, thank you, but I'm not interested."

Isis nods and sets the plate down in front of her. "You must be incredibly uncomfortable sitting here."

"Mainly because everyone keeps staring at me," I mutter.

Isis cracks a smile for the first time. "So now you know how I feel."

"Sorry about that," I apologize again.

We eat in silence for a while. After the lamba hog is nothing but a small pile of bones on Isis's plate, she asks me, "Do you know why my father chose you?"

"Because I was the first one he saw?" I guess.

Isis opens her mouth, then pauses. "True, but not what I was going to say." She folds her arms and turns in her chair to face me. "My father has kept track of the humans that live here. You're an odd man, Michael."

I hope she means that in a good way. "How so?"

Isis lifts up a finger. "You can look directly into the face of authority without cowering, for one. When you were brought before my father, he assumed that all Humans would be as bold as you. This quickly proved not to be the case as more were brought before him. Most humans quake in their boots when they see him. Others display obviously false bravado."

...I decide not to mention that I'd already had a lot of practice with talking to Theb-sarr.

Isis puts up another finger. "Secondly, twenty-one days after your arrival in Perim, you manage to get yourself employed as a foreman at the dew farm. This is a feat even for a Mipedian. True, there may be factors that Father does not know about, but in general promotions don't come that quickly."

That had been weird. Sett never told me why he decided to promote me so quickly.

Isis lifts a third finger and smirks. "Thirdly, and this one is my favorite, you spent your first and only night at the palace under the bed that had been given to you. Father found that rather memorable."

I blink. "...I guess the servant told him?"

Isis nod and tucks her hand back into the crook of her elbow. "Was that action a defense against possible assassins?"

Wow, hit the nail directly on the head right there. "Yes."

Isis grins wider. "Father thought so. Why under the bed?"

"So I could kick the shins of an assailant from a hidden place if I need to." I chuckle. "I could have found a better solution than that."

"Try standing by the door on the hinge side next time," Isis says. She turns back to her plate and unfolds her arms. "You made quite an impression, more so than any other human so far." She resumes eating.

I guess the conversation is over. I turn my attention back to my food.

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"You were talking to the princess," Sett says quietly as I pass him on my way to an outhouse. He puts on a fake evil grin. "That means the king has to kill you now."

I shiver. "If the rest of the Humans don't do that first," I mutter.

Sett's grin disappears. "What do you mean?"

I chew the inside of my cheek. "Just you wait, Sett. Tomorrow the dew farm will have dozens of Humans supposedly looking for work. All they'll want to do is talk to me, though."

Sett huffs. "I'll take care of that. Go and do your business."

And so my fifteen minutes of fame begins. Of course, considering the circumstances, it would be a miracle if it actually stopped at fifteen minutes.

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Up next: The Paparazzi

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Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.

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