I didn’t ask to be the Demon Queen

I wasn’t a fan of the concept of a “War Room”. I was aware that it was the kind of thing that was necessary, especially when you had, you know, a war on. It probably sounded really cool to the kind of people who imagined themselves grand strategists, but it had always reminded me of darkened rooms with a circular table, full of old angry men with medals, shouting about the Russians, Peter Sellers getting the world to nuke itself to oblivion. It was that, or it was gritty, “realistic” fantasy shows where nudity got more exposure than flying dragons. The War Room could just as well have been called Meeting Room A and I would’ve been fine with it.

 

I stood in front of the giant map that filled the center of Meeting Room A, looking at the thing with more care than I’d done the first time. That time I’d been more preoccupied with a who’s who of the heads around the table, after all. The only person there I didn’t immediately recognize was a man named Duncan, who captained the guard at Whitehallow. He’d been the one to tell the men to stand down back when we dethroned dearest Otto von Windbag, and he was the closest thing we had to a military leader for now. He’d also lived in Innshire most of his life and knew how to defend the place, from both sides. 

 

“The way I see it,” he said. “Is that there’s three points of approach.” I looked at the map. I only saw the one. Innshire was a chokepoint, and even there the landscape funneled anyone through to Whitehallow and Shereton. Having only one entrance and exit to a new region was very much a game design concept, but these days I was certain this world and the game were two separate entities. I realized he’d been talking and I was zoning out, so I made an effort to focus.

 

“--point of attack will be at Whitehallow, which is to our advantage. Whitehallow has stood for two hundred years. The river makes it almost unassailable. However --” He moved his finger across the map, and everyone in the room craned their neck to follow its movement. “There’s two other ways into your kingdom. Here, at the very edge of Innshire, the Dergow becomes incredibly shallow. You could walk an army across it and suffer almost no delays.”

 

He slid his fingers across the table again, and again we all followed him, like kittens staring at a laser pointer. “And here.” He pointed at a part of the map that seemed to be just mountains, and there was nothing to indicate that it wasn’t. “There’s a pass here, wide enough for ten men to walk side by side. If they wanted to bypass Shereton, this is where they’d do it.”

 

I crossed my arms and tried to consider the situation. I hadn’t been bad at strategy games, but in those you usually had, well, more information than this. Kazumi spoke up. “Do you have any suggestions, Sir Redmund?” Oh, apparently the man was a knight! 

 

He scratched his blond stubble with a gloved hand. He was exactly the kind of person to wear full combat armor to a strategy meeting, because of course he was. He was handsome, in an obvious kind of way. Hard jaw with soft eyes, blond hair, permanent stubble. Not my type, but definitely somebody’s, because I’d seen the template repeated a thousand times over a thousand pieces of media. He seemed nice. He looked around the room at the others gathered. The companions stood off to one side, having been forced by the Council of Regents onto our side of the war, but not keen on waging actual war against the country they’d sworn to protect. Kazumi, Erza and Sabine stood on the other, the former two taking notes. Elena stood next to Duncan, hands on her hips. I was glad she was here for this. She already seemed calmer than the first time I’d met her. 

 

“We don’t have the manpower to defend all three, your Highness,” he said to me. “What I’d do is maximise our defenses here,” he pointed at Whitehallow, “and send your Escort down to the river. I think that, with some sappers, we can make the river a lot more dangerous to cross. The presence of the monst-- the non-human soldiers will deter the scouts. Many of them have no idea how to deal with them, and it should prove an effective deterrent.”

 

He scratched the stubble again, audibly. It was like he was gently sandpapering his hand. “My biggest problem is the mountain pass. I believe it’s been mentioned that Elena,” he gestured to his side, “is staying to intimidate the opposing forces. Perhaps she could make the mountain pass crumble, somehow…”

 

John Mustrum stepped forward. If he wasn’t so obviously a wizard, I would’ve forgotten who he was, but a pointy hat like that was hard to forget. “I might have an idea here, your Majesty.” We all turned to him, and he blushed under his beard. He was soft-spoken as ever. “I believe that closing the pass is a bad idea.” 

 

“Oh?” Duncan said, crossing his arms. He seemed curious, rather than confrontational, so that was something at least. I wasn’t in the mood for posturing, but nobody present seemed to be in the mood. Tybalt himself stood in a corner, observing but not saying much. Ever since Daniel’s wake he’d been acting strange. Not just in mourning, but as if he was struggling with something.

 

“If we close the pass, all troops will divert to Whitehallow. However, if we keep the pass open but dangerous, it’ll buy us more time, won’t it?”

 

Duncan nodded thoughtfully and for a second I thought he’d scratch his chin again. “What are you thinking?”

 

John retrieved a small orb from inside his robes. “Darius Black’s Reprieve,” he said, as if that explained everything. We just blinked at him, waiting for him to continue. 

 

“A long time ago, Darius Black was a wiz--” John began, until he was immediately interrupted.

 

“It summons a big great castle,” Sabine said, not in the mood for a history lesson she probably knew already. “How does that help us?”

 

John shuffled his feet awkwardly for a second. “If we put Miss… Firebrand on the front lines, she might be goaded into attacking Wydonian forces. If we wish to postpone open conflict, perhaps I could accompany her to the mountain pass. With Black’s Reprieve, there would suddenly be a large fortress halfway over the mountain. One wizard in a shack can be assaulted by a brave or wily enough commander. Two wizards in a castle, up a narrow path? That would give anyone pause.”

 

Elena’s eye twitched. “You’d sideline me, wizard?”

 

“No, that’s not it at a--”

 

“Do you have any idea how powerful--” she began, and the old reliable knot in my stomach was back in a heartbeat and I hurried around the table, between Elena and John, and knelt down in front of her, carefully. I’d been told by Kazumi that one of the servants had learned restorative magic because of the damage I’d done to the stonework by bumping into doorframes and floors. 

 

“Elena, focus on me.” 

 

Her eyes, solid red and white, like the inside of a furnace, cooled down to embers, and the tips of her hair stopped smoking. Her vague stare dissipated.

 

“Inhale with me, okay? Count to five… four… five. Now hold… two… three. And exhale… three… four… five. Thank you. Can you inhale again, and tell me what you smell?”

 

As she answered and I walked her through the rest of the grounding exercise, the others in the room stood around sheepishly, but I honestly didn’t care. Elena had come a long way from being the young woman who was ready to commit mass murder, and I wasn’t going to have her relapse because of a misinterpretation. She finished the exercise and smiled. 

 

“Thank you, Queen Eliza,” she said. 

 

“Any time,” I returned the smile. “You’re not being brushed aside, Elena. We’re trying to have everyone be where they can do the most good, okay? That includes you. Can you tell me what it is you want most?”

 

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Calm. Rest.” 

 

“Very good. And what do they want you to want?” 

 

“To burn it all.”

 

“Do you want to burn it all?”

 

She shook her head. I stood up and gently patted her on the shoulder, a little awkwardly.

 

“Then I think deterrent is better than using you as a weapon, yeah?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded. “Thank you again.”

 

I shook my head. “No need, Elena. We’re all here to help each other.” 

 

Returning to my spot at the table, I continued, to the room at large. “I like the idea. Do you think the two of you can survive well on your own, up there?”

 

“Yes!” Elena said enthusiastically. Her tone of voice would be easy to mistake for someone over-eager to prove themselves, but her demeanour was almost childlike. “I mean, hum, yes, yes I’m sure.”

 

“Black’s Respite is fully stocked at all times with food, so there’s no worries about provisions.”

 

“Why don’t we just put that thing down anywhere?” Duncan asked incredulously. “It sounds incredibly powerful, and not having to supply our troops would be a tremendous boon.”

 

John Mustrum shook his head. “It has a magical field that drives anyone inside it slowly insane. Us magic users can shield ourselves, but after maybe a week, your soldiers would start to eat each other alive.”

 

“Ah. Hm. Never mind, then.”

 

“I wasn’t talking about food, though, John,” I said. “Will the two of you be okay up there alone? It might be a while.”

 

He nodded. “I have plenty to read.”

 

“Me too,” Elena said, gleefully. “I’ve been, uh… studying, with the help of Erza.” She looked over at the Orc and I couldn’t help but smile at the glint of mischief in Erza’s eyes. 

 

“Speaking of which,” Erza said, “would you like to study the next volume of Concubine of Fire, or should I just lend you the lot?”

 

I didn’t know which I liked better. The realization that Elena read what sounded like terrible romance novels was great. The look on her face when Erza just revealed her little passion to the room was wonderful. The fact that Erza just had the entire series on hand was just… spectacular. I grinned at Erza, who just shrugged, but I thought I caught a hint of a blush on her cheeks. It seemed like she herself hadn’t realized she’d outed herself until she’d stopped speaking. Meanwhile, Elena was just sputtering, until she finally rediscovered her words.

 

“I--! You--! Sure. Yes… Fine, the whole series,” she said with a resigned smile and a sigh. She turned to me again. “I’ll be fine, Queen Eliza.”

 

“Sure looks like it,” I grinned, but it melted away as I considered what came next. “Now, as for our actual plan.”

 

Kazumi nodded. “We’re going to travel to the capital to rescue the queen. I’ve laid out a few routes, with the help of Sabine and the companions. We’re trying to avoid attention, so all of us will be going incognito.” She looked up at the companions. “That includes the lot of you, as well. If people know the Hero’s companions are traveling to the capital, they’ll tighten their defenses.”

 

Everyone nodded, except Tybalt. “Is she coming too?” He nodded at me. “Look at her.”

 

I frowned. He was right. It was hard to mistake me for someone else. 

 

“No worries, Tybalt. I’ve got an idea for that, too.” Sabine said.

 

“Can she even fight?” he asked. Since he knew I wasn’t the queen, he probably doubted my ability. I couldn’t fault him for it. 

 

“She’s coming with us,” Kazumi and Sabine said so sharply I half expected Tybalt’s head to fall off. It would be terrifying if it wasn’t so heart-warming.

 

“But--” he began.

 

“No buts, Sir Tybalt,” Erza said. “She’s more capable than you think she is. And more valuable.” I had no idea what she was talking about, but I wasn’t planning on disagreeing with her. As usual, she’d spoken with an air of authority that was as impressive as it was intimidating. Even Tybalt seemed convinced. 

 

“If you say so,” he said, and bowed his head. I realized that, to him, the orc woman was probably intimidatingly tall. 

 

Some other small business was discussed, like the running of the castle in our absence. Then the room finally emptied. We’d leave in just a few days, and a lot of packing needed to be done still. As I almost left the room, I heard a voice behind me. 

 

“Queen Eliza,” Tybalt said, almost meekly. “If you have a moment.” I tried not to roll my eyes. I wasn’t in the mood to be questioned or insulted again, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. I waited for him to start speaking, but he seemed insistent on waiting until everyone had left the room. Odd, but I was willing to stand there awkwardly for a second too. Once it was just the two of us, he seemed to have some difficulty getting his words out, rubbing his shiny bald head. 

 

“Listen… I apologize for my outburst, earlier.” Oh, this wasn’t what I’d expected. “It wasn’t my place and…” I was about to interrupt him when he continued. “Look… we are about to go incognito and I’ve been pondering something for some time.”

 

I just raised my eyebrows. I was going to let him do this in his own time.

 

“If we have to be disguised… could you… perhaps… try the same thing with me?”

 

“Try what?” I asked quizzically. I had no idea what he was talking about.

 

“The thing you did to Da-- to Sally. Make the body look like the soul kind of thing? Not like, demon, but you know…”

 

Oh. Oh! Oh!

 

“Oh! You… You should’ve said something, Ty--... well, we’ll figure that out later,” I said, the realization of what he was saying coming to me quickly. I’d been more exposed to the concept lately, after all.

 

“Just… maybe a bit less uh… violent?”

 

I nodded, and knelt in front of him, and cringed when my knee hit and shattered a tile. His eyes grew wide as he stared at it. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Count to three.”

 

“One,” he said, and then I yanked his soul out of his body. It was easier the second time around, for sure, although he probably shouldn’t have been standing upright. The body slumped over, and I held a small golden soul in my hands. It wasn’t as exuberant as Sally’s had been, but Tybalt hadn’t seemed like the exuberant type. The energy in my chest coiled and swirled, eager to apply itself, and I picked up Tybalt’s body with my other hand, and, more carefully this time, brought them together in the same act of healing I’d managed with Sally. 

 

The changes seemed to be much more drastic. I feared I’d made a mistake, because a lot was changing. Finally, the shape sat up. It was maybe three feet tall, tiny compared to myself. The creature that used to be Tybalt looked up at me. In the way it looked at itself, I was certain I hadn’t made a mistake. The face of someone who is suddenly right was unmistakable.

 

“Huh. Didn’t see that coming,” I said with a slight smile. 

 

“Don’t judge me!” the tiny Kobold girl squealed at me.