Mike the White's Arc

Chapter 2 of 10

Mike woke in the top-floor bed with the queen on his mind. He had told Zara he wanted no part of her court. That was a lie, and he knew it now. The wolf and cat women below had whispered about her all night. A beastfolk queen, unwed, waiting for a worthy suitor. Mike wanted to be that man. But the gift troubled him. He knew nothing of the queen, and a wrong gift would shame him at the door. He went down to the tavern and found Zara wiping the long dark bar. A tallow candle burned in a wall sconce beside her, throwing soft light on the aged wood. The morning crowd was thin. A cat woman dozed by the stone hearth. Mike set his pouch of gold nuggets on the bar. "I need your help," he said. Zara's ears rose. She smirked. "Last night you had no interest in the queen." "Last night I lied." He met her eyes. "I mean to stand before her. But I don't know her. I could bring gold and insult her. Tell me what she values." Zara set down her rag. She studied him the way she had the night before, slow, from beard to boots. Then she leaned on the bar. "Gold?" She laughed, sharp and short. "Every fool brings gold. She has vaults of it. Bring her metal and she'll wave you out before you speak." She tapped the pouch and slid it back to him. "Keep it." Mike's jaw tightened. "Then what?" Zara was quiet a moment. Her tail swayed. "She was a soldier once, before the crown. She lost her mate in a border war. She has no patience for pretty things." She looked at the axe on his hip. "She respects strength that has bled. A scar. A story. Something that cost the giver." Mike thought of the wound in his side, still raw under the bandage. He thought of the road that had opened it. "You'd know all this how?" he asked. Zara's smile faded. "I served in that war too. I saw her carry a dying friend three miles under arrows. That's the woman you'd court." She pushed off the bar. "Bring her a gift that shows you understand loss. Not shine. Loss." Mike sat with that. The candle guttered in its sconce. He had two nights left. He had no such gift, and no way yet to make one. But he had something better than gold now. He knew who she was. "Thank you," he said. He rose, tall enough to brush the low beam. "I'll find the gift." Zara watched him go. "Then you'll owe me," she called. "And she'll know within a breath if you're lying. She always does." Mike stopped at the door. The warning settled in his chest like a stone. He had until court to prove he was worthy of a soldier queen. And he still held nothing worth her time.