“You are insane,” Russel snapped. “You murder one of my people, threaten my kingdom, threaten me, and all so you can determine whether or not the human woman I have been protecting has not been kidnapped?”

“I am not insane, Your Majesty. I am…thorough, if you prefer that. And again, just to set the record straight here, nothing of what I have done or said has been a lie or misleading.” Hank’s face returned to its former arrogant and irritating cockiness. “Your kingdom will be occupied, as well as Harvenk. Sarchi is already under our control. The guns we have brought with us are also no joke. They kill without mercy. So it seems to me that you have a choice to make.”

“This is ridiculous,” Lola said. “You have done nothing but instigate conflict where there was none. How could King Harrison agree to this?”

“The methods were of my choosing and I decided the easiest way to quickly assess whether you were here of your own accord or other, nefarious means, was to test your loyalty. Now that I have an accurate idea of things, we can move forward. It’s better that way. Best not to dwell on things that should be left in the past.”

“The past?” Lola sputtered, shocked. “We are still right in the middle of your crazy bullshit.”

Hank’s face grew more shrewd and his fingers tightened around the gun he still carried. He stared at Lola with a dark, eerie look.

“I have my own way of doing things and they have worked for the entirety of my career,” he told her. “The king entrusted the mission of your safe return to me and this is how I chose to accomplish it. You might not like it. You may even detest me. The one thing you cannot do is deny that my way was effective.”

“You could have just asked,” Lola returned, still furious. If this is what the king allowed to happen in his name, she wasn’t sure she wanted anything to do with Alcroft anymore.

“No. Words can be given out under duress. Actions, however, speak much louder.”

“You pompous, arrogant…”

“Enough!” Russel shouted, his face returning to normal but red with anger. “That’s enough, Lola.” He said this in a much gentler, quieter voice. She looked at him, somewhat hurt by the way he yelled at her. He sighed. “Thank you for the things you’ve said and for putting yourself in harm’s way to help me and everyone present. But staying angry now is not helping. Okay?”

She looked at Hank again, still wanting to smack the hell out of him, and then glanced back at Russel. Grudgingly, she gave him a small, barely perceptible nod of her head.

“Fine,” she grumbled.

“Now that we have all the hurt feelings and anger out of the way, I will still need an answer, Your Majesty,” Hank said.

Russel looked at the man, this small but over-confident and bordering on psychopathic human, wondering what the hell he was going to do. On the one hand, he didn’t really find the idea of fighting a war with the humans now possessing such frightening weaponry a good one. If it came down to it, he was going to lose a lot of his people to those damned things. On the other hand, he was going to look extremely weak in front of a large number of nobles, soldiers, officers, and others he most certainly did not want to look weak in front of.

And then there were his brothers. If he didn’t play this situation out in the correct way, they would come for his throat. There was no doubt in his mind. They were going to deem him too weak to lead and kill him for control of the throne.

It was that simple.

And then there was Lola. The mystery surrounding her was only growing, the layers stacking up on top of each other. Now yet another king, this one from the human kingdom, was throwing his power into the mix on her behalf. This time, however, it appeared to be to protect her, not kill her like his father had done.

What was it about her that was drawing these powerful people to her like a moth to flames?

He needed more information but his father was dead so he couldn’t ask him. The spies that had most likely gathered all of his information weren’t talking even under threat of death or prison. Their loyalties, all of them had said whenever asked, were to Carter Polver, not a meaningless fifth-born. Russel wanted to kill each of them too but restrained the urge. He still needed them and was hoping that at some point, he would be able to squeeze some kind of information out of them.

He wasn’t holding his breath though.

But now, he realized, there might be another opportunity to figure out the mystery of Lola Tarnvol.

Drake Wittam.

The Harvenk prince had been the first to make a move on Lola which meant he had to have some kind of information. Now the humans wanted him to hunt down and kill the man. Maybe he would take the mission after all, if only to understand why Lola seemed to be so important to so many different, powerful people.

“Well? What will it be,” Hank asked. He pulled a gold pocket watch out of his pocket and stared at the time. “We have traveled far and fast, barely stopping for rest. My men grow hungry and tired. Do you accept King Harrison’s mission to locate and bring to justice Prince Drake Wittam, firstborn of King Finley Wittam?”

Russel could tell that his brothers didn’t want him to say yes. He could hear their grumblings, could probably guess what they were thinking too. But he didn’t care. What he wanted were answers. Answers that might help figure out why the world was so interested in Lola Tarnvol.

“Withdraw your forces and pay reparations to the family of the man you murdered. Once done, I will assemble a party of individuals to enter Harvenk lands, locate Drake, and kill him.” He looked down at Hank and tried so hard not to physically assault the man. “Understood?”

“Coward!” The scream of the word exploded out of the dead silence, causing everyone to turn their head toward the sound, including Lola. She wasn’t surprised to find that Roland had been the one to yell. “You’re just going to roll over and let these pathetic, weak ass humans control you. You should have let father just kill you.”

Russel turned on his heel and stomped across the throne room until he was facing Roland directly. His older brother was growling, his eyes glowing with that amber fire.

Russel’s glowed bright blue.

The two stood there for a few seconds, neither one moving or saying a word. Gradually, the other three brothers moved out the way, not wanting anything to do with what might happen next.

“You’re too weak to lead…”

Russel punched Roland squarely in the face, his fist slamming into his brother’s nose. Ro let out a surprised grunt, his eyes growing large and his mouth dropping open in a silly O of surprise. Then Russel grabbed the front of the suit jacket he wore with his left hand, yanked him forward, and then punched him in the face repeatedly. By the time he let a dazed and bloodied Roland go, Russel’s fist looked sort of deformed. It was definitely swollen and it looked like a few of the fingers had been broken. Even as she watched, they started to heal. In seconds, his hand was back to normal, save for his brother’s blood covering it.

“Shut your mouth,” Russel barked, his voice letting everyone know he meant business and that if you tested him again, he would probably do worse than what he did to his own brother.

He took out a handkerchief from a pocket and used that to wipe the blood off his hand. Then he calmly walked back over to where Hank was waiting, Lola still standing near him. He hoped she wouldn't think less of him for what’d had to do but if he hadn’t done something drastic, it would only make things worse in the long run. By whatever means, he had to retain power in his kingdom and if that meant pummeling the shit out of his brother, then that was a sacrifice he would just have to live with.

“Glad to see one of you Polver boys has some sense about them,” Hank said.

“Do you accept my amended terms to your deal? Does your king entrust such a decision to one of your…stature?” Russel asked. It felt petty to throw out that last-second jab but no less satisfying regardless.

“Those terms are acceptable. We will withdraw our forces and the family of this illegal spy found on our lands will be sent reparation money for the loss. Now, with that and all other bits of unpleasantness out of the way, that just leaves the matter of the time limit.”

“What time limit?” Lola asked.

“You will have a week and a half to bring us the head of Drake Wittam. Fail to do so and the occupation of the Kingdom of Oclan will begin in earnest.”