Walking alongside Merit, I stared out at the world around us.

We were on the roof of her castle, at the highest point in her Oasis. From here we could see nearly the whole city around us, and the lake beyond. I could even make out the distant cities and villages on the other lakes nearby, though they were small specks in the distance.

“I can’t give you months Merit. I really shouldn’t even be giving you the one,” I admitted to her.

“I figured. That’s why I asked for six. I knew that stupid fat church girl would cut however long I asked for, no matter the number, so I asked for a lot more on purpose. Honestly I might not even need you this whole month,” Merit said as she approached a door. One of the few on this terrace-like rooftop. It led to a small room with a few small windows, and I knew within would be tools.

Gardening tools.

She opened the door, and I noted the smell of metal and dirt within as she entered. The door, and the room, were tiny. Too tiny. It had been made for her and only her, and thus was half the size it should have been. I could enter, but would have to crouch to do so. It was as if it was some kind of kids play pen or something.

Merit wasn’t in the room long and emerged with a bucket full of gardening supplies. Even a pair of gloves, though she wasn’t wearing them. They hung on the pail, and by the looks of it had been doing so for years.

“I’m glad you’ve become so versed in politics,” I said, praising the small woman as she then walked to the center of the roof.

Hundreds of plants, of all species, littered the roof. Some did so in small planters, while others were in recessed divots in the ground. There were also little aqueduct like funnels and paths all over, that were feeding all of the plants. It made the roof gleam a little, thanks to the high desert sun.

“You say that, yet I feel as if I don’t know anything about politics at all anymore. Half of the emissaries nowadays speak in riddles it almost feels like,” Merit said as she placed her little pail down near a large flower, one nearly as tall as she. It hadn’t bloomed yet. It was just a large bud. A peculiar yellow one that I didn’t recognize.

“That’s probably just your attitude. You’ve finally reached the same point most monarchs do at some point in their rule,” I said as I watched her study the flower, and then reach for a small pair of scissor like clippers.

“What’s that?” Merit asked as she clipped a tiny leaf about half way up the flower. It didn’t get to drop to the soil below, she caught it and put it into the bucket and then went to cut off another.

While half kneeling on the ground, Merit continued to prune the flower. In doing so, strangely enough, she looked even more royal than ever before. It almost made her even seem older, as if she didn’t look like a snot-nosed brat.

“The point the burden becomes something they don’t value anymore,” I said gently.

Merit paused mid-clip of a tiny leaf, and glanced at me. “Are you saying I don’t seem interested in my kingdom anymore?” she asked, a little worriedly it seemed.

“Not at all. I was honestly just making a small jest. By the way, at the moment right now you look very much the part Merit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so queenly, other than when you had cut that woman’s head off,” I said.

Her face contorted a moment, and then she looked away. I tried not to notice the blush that had almost formed as she did so.

Great. Now I wanted to change the subject.

“I called you here for two reasons, Vim,” Merit then said, likely also hoping to change the subject.

Thankful for it, I nodded. “Yeah?”

“I… I don’t have proof yet of the first thing, so I’ll bring up the second thing first,” she said as she paused a moment and looked up at me.

“Hm?” What’d that mean?

“Another war is headed our way. At least, I think so. The southern nation of Wevling sent a group of ambassadors a couple months ago. Before the storm season,” she said.

I nodded. “That tiny coastal nation? I’m sure we can handle that in a month,” I agreed with her. Maybe not even a month. They only had a few cities, like Merit did.

“What…? No. Or well, yes. Maybe. Actually I think one of the women they sent is a saint. I want you to prove it, if you can,” Merit said.

Hm…? “Sending saints as emissaries isn’t too unique, though stupid on their part. Maybe they did it because we’re a nonhuman nation?” I wondered. Saints were becoming very rare, very quickly. It was odd they’d risk one so haphazardly.

“We’re?” Merit asked angrily.

Ah. Right.

“I do recall you mentioned I was always welcomed here, society or no,” I said with a smirk at her.

She huffed at me and after a tiny glare turned away. She stood, grabbing her pail and moving to the next patch of dirt. This time it was a bench of small vine-like shrubs. Some type of berries maybe.

“You’ve been so snarky lately with me. Is it because I’m a queen now, Vim? Do you hate royalty as much as you do everything else?” Merit asked with an odd tone.

I blinked at her strange question, and wondered if I had been rude just now. I hadn’t felt like I had been, in fact I had felt almost as if I had been talking to a friend. Almost like how I had just been talking to Miss Beak a few days ago.

“Why would you ask me that Merit…? Was I being rude just now?” I asked, wondering if I hadn’t noticed at all.

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“You talk to me like you do Celine now,” she said softly.

Shifting a little, I made sure not to break Merit’s garden rooftop as I stared down at her. She was already messing with the little shrubs, but was doing so with a rather solemn look. One that almost made her appear depressed.

Merit was usually angry. Not depressed.

Damn.

Ever since I found out she had been pining for me I had been trying to treat her as normal as possible. To not make it awkward.

Seemed I wasn’t doing a very good job at all.

“You should know me better than that, Merit. If I truly hated you, I’d not joke around with you. Though I do admit I’m probably being a little… rude, I suppose. But I’ve had a lot on my plate recently, and I’ll be honest it feels weird to see you so dolled up. I miss you looking feral, I think,” I said honestly.

Merit tilted her head, and I noticed she had tried to stare at her own reflection in her trimmers. “Feral…?” she mumbled.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t like royalty…? I mean, I don’t, but is it that bad? Wasn’t I friends with some of them back in the day?” I wondered to myself.

Merit sighed at me. “Okay Vim. I get it,” she said stiffly.

“I hope so, because I don’t.”

She finally laughed. A tiny little chuckle, but a laugh all the same.

I smiled warmly at the sound, and sight of it.

That was the first laugh I’d gotten out of her since arriving. And it’s been almost an hour or so since Nasba and I had woken her up.

“Alright…! I get it! Now stop making me feel weird or I’ll stab you in a very soft spot with these!” Merit said as she held up her trimmers threateningly.

“Please don’t,” I said seriously.

“Hm… you’re probably right. If I did that you’d not be able to help me with an heir would you?” Merit said as she nodded and frowned.

A tad stunned by the statement, I took a small breath and shook my head. “I’m sure I could find some tadpoles for you, what with these likes. Shouldn’t be too hard,” I said.

It was Merit’s turn to be stunned, but like me she got over it quickly. She huffed at me.

“The woman might not be a saint, I just have a strange suspicion. Her eyes don’t glow, but she knew I was a fish. Although one could argue a lot of people know, since those like Nasba don’t necessarily keep it much a secret, it seemed odd the way she had brought it up. The land she’s from, Wevling, is a nation that believes in some stone spirit. Probably some kind of monarch back in the day, they all carry little stones that they pray to. It’s weird,” Merit said, returning us to a more normal topic.

“I’ll find out for you. What do you want me to do if she is one?” I asked.

“If she is a saint then she’s a spy. Their religion, that rock thing, despises saints. They believe their god was killed by one, so all saints are banished from their lands,” Merit said as she stopped messing with the little shrubs and stood up to look up at me.

“I’m starting to like these stone believers,” I said.

She smirked at me. “Figured you would. If she is a saint I can use her as a bargaining chip during negotiations. They want me to rule over them, but they want my protection, food and water, but don’t want to really give me much more than some coins. Ten percent of their yearly taxes,” Merit said.

“To them that’s a hefty and very normal offer, Merit. They’re humans. They see money as valuable,” I said.

She nodded. “I know. But I’d rather have access to their port. It’s not very big, but a lot of the banned goods finds their way through it, so I’d like to put my own people to task on keeping the waters clear of slaves and drugs,” Merit said.

Hm. How proper. She really did make a good queen, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

“Nothing wrong with making more friends, Merit. I’m glad you’re entertaining it at least,” I said.

“I don’t need friends, Vim. These people out here are savages. They sell their own children into war, and then try to pay off their crimes with trinkets and coin. All they do is bring war and orphans.”

I smiled at her and nodded. Yes, the people at the far corners were a little more primitive than others still. Mostly thanks to their belief systems. They didn’t see the act of selling their children as anything more than selling their own property.

And Merit didn’t take kindly to those who abused their own. Particularly their children.

“Either way, it’d be good for you to have a few more allies out here Merit. Though you don’t like to claim allegiance to the Society, you still draw from its stores. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but if a day comes you need aid swiftly you may find yourself struggling because of it. It can take months for you to request help, and then receive it, even if hurried,” I said.

She nodded softly. “I know, Vim. I know.”

I sighed at her, since I hadn’t meant to make her feel sad.

“And? This other request?” I asked. She had mentioned another.

Merit shifted, her eyes danced a bit as if she was trying to remember what I was talking about… and then she sighed and nodded. “Don’t laugh at me, okay?” she then said.

My eye twitched, and I spent half a moment fearing what she was about to ask… but calmed down a bit once I realized she had already made a comment about asking me for a child. She’d not attempt the same thing twice so quickly, she wasn’t the type to do so.

Merit had been serious in her attempt to woe me, these last few hundred years, but she had a strange perspective of romance and relationships. Plus she had a lot of strange pride, in strange places. She’d likely not try again in such a way during my visit here. She always tried once, maybe twice, but never more.

I nodded at her as her eyes focused on my own. She was tired of waiting for an answer.

“I’ll not laugh,” I promised.

Hopefully.

“Really? Everyone else has. They think I’m crazy,” she said.

Oh…? So it definitely wasn’t about me, then. They’d not laugh at her over my lack of reciprocating her feelings. They pitied her over it, and everyone here was far too kind to tease her in such a way. Not even Nasba would.

“You’re many things Merit, but you’re not insane,” I told her gently.

“Thanks. You might regret saying that soon, though,” she said.

“Now I’m looking forward to this. Go on then,” I said with a small gesture.

Merit took a deep breath and sighed. She shrugged her tiny shoulders, and then shook her head. “I think a god recently made itself at home nearby.”

The world went still.

There were no clouds in the sky, but if there had been they would have frozen in place. The soft swaying of the leaves and plant life around us went still, and the water flowing through the tiny aqueducts in the roof stopped flowing as if frozen.

Merit noticed instantly. She stood up straighter, looking around in a panic… as I closed my eyes and took a small breath.

Gulping gently, I was thankful that not only did the world resume around us… but nothing had broken either. For a few moments there I had half expected to utterly destroy not just her little garden here on the roof, but possibly the whole castle… maybe even the whole city.

Luckily the world was safe, for now, as Merit’s eyes returned to my own.

“Vim…?” she asked worriedly.

“Let’s hope you are insane, Merit. Otherwise you and your kingdom are in danger. Danger not even I can protect you from,” I said softly.

Merit’s tiny hands clenched into fists, and she gulped worriedly.

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