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"The Crown"

by Calypso

CHAPTER TWO

When the young cougar opened his eyes, he realized that wherever he was, it was very dark, and that his head was throbbing with pain, particularly toward the back. He reached a paw back tentatively and massaged the aching lump, in a daze as to what had happened to him.

Then everything came flooding back.

He shivered, the cold, damp stone of his prison cell feeling alien and horrid against the skin and fur of a royal of Beldai. Then he realized that it wasn't stone at all, it was metal. His whole cell was made from metal, the only available Element being air. But Yang-Wo knew that no matter how he beckoned the air Spirits to his aid, he would not be able to budge a heavy metal door by wind power alone.

The Prince began to cry; he didn't cry in pain, or whine in protest, or whimper in fear. He genuinely wept, his heaving sobs choking him with distress and anger and hatred and shame, with a grief beyond any he'd ever known. With himself and his parents captured, Beldai had fallen, and the wolves had effectively won the war. In other words, Beldai, and the Yunka-Shu cougars within it, had lost.

Yang-Wo cried for the better part of an hour. When he finally took his watery, swollen face from his paws, he realized that his eyes had started to become accustomed to the very dim lighting. The cell itself had no light source and no window to the outside. However, there was a small grate in the big metal door to the Prince's right, which let in light from what Yang-Wo assumed was a corridor beyond. Yang-Wo wiped his nose on his arm and tried to force himself to look around without crying again. The only thing other than himself that was in the room was a metal pot in the far corner. He knew what it was for, and the thought made him ill. His sensitive cougar nose could already smell the thing from where he sat.

Hours passed in silence and darkness. Yang-Wo didn't hear a single person moving about outside his cell. No one walked past, no one offered him food, water, or even insults. It was eerily quiet, and because of the lack of light, he couldn't tell if it was morning or afternoon or night.

Then, finally, just when Yang-Wo was about to start crying again just for something to do and to make some noise, he heard footsteps approaching. Now that someone was coming, he didn't know how to react. His first instinct was fear.

The Prince huddled into the corner, pushing himself against the wall, as he heard the footfalls stop in front of his door, the heavy mechanisms of the lock turning with the inserted key. The door swung open, and there stood a huge black wolf, though any features were obscured by the silhouette view.

"Get up, whelp," a familiar raspy female voice commanded. So this was the wolf who had captured him.

Yang-Wo didn't move. He wasn't consciously disobeying, he just didn't know how to react. He was hungry and tired and confused, and he felt relieved that another person was there, yet terrified all at the same time.

The wolf woman clearly wasn't in the mind to repeat herself. She strode across the tiny cell in only a couple footfalls, grabbing the Prince by the hair and dragging him across the metal floor and out the door.

Yang-Wo screamed, feeling his scalp ripping, and immediately stood in the candlelit corridor, tears streaming down his face.

"That's what I thought," she said haughtily, shoving him in the back. "Walk."

There was the point of a blade pushed against Yang-Wo's spine, and he cringed from it as he walked forward. The corridor was all metal as well, and what Yang-Wo had thought was candlelight was actually mesh lanterns filled with some fluttering, luminescent creatures. No fire in the prison, of course.

The wolf woman pushed Yang-Wo along through many corridors that all seemed as though they were underground, by the lack of any windows, natural light, or any other sign that there was access to the outside. These corridors were all encased in metal, and all eerily lit by the incandescent animals in lanterns.

Finally, the Prince was commanded to begin climbing a set of stairs, which were made of rich, beautiful, dark stone.

"Don't even think of manipulating the stone," the woman told him, just as that very thought crossed his mind. "I will cut off your head and tear out your heart before you can even lift one brick." With that, she gave him another jab of her knife. "Keep moving."

They climbed hundreds of stairs, which were warmly lit by torchlight. Another weapon Yang-Wo dared not use, especially since he had no training with fire. When the Prince's legs ached with the strain of climbing, they emerged through a set of great wooden doors into a cavernous hall, one definitely fit to be inside a royal palace.

I'm inside the Great Ulcouri Palace, Yang-Wo thought, shivering. He had heard stories of this dark place, a gleaming behemoth of solid, unflinching dark stone, polished and pristine, yet dark, mysterious, and cold as its inhabitants.

The cougar didn't have time to observe his surroundings, as he was steadily pushed forward. The one time he turned his head, he felt the tip of the knife break his skin, and he jumped and yelped softly, rushing forward, his head down.

It was clear to the Prince immediately that the underground prison from whence he came was situated in a very far wing of the Palace, removed from where the royals spent their days. The walk was immensely long, and Yang-Wo's bare feet ached with the effort, and his stomach growled in protest.

After what seemed days since he'd sat in his metal cell, he came upon a great hall, a hall that had a huge dais where four thrones sat, all filled by their usual occupants. To the flanks of the dais, other wolves were standing, all of them clearly waiting for Yang-Wo to arrive. As a royal, Yang-Wo knew what this was, yet he'd never been asked to participate. This was his judgment. No trial, no evidence presented. Simply a sentence from the most important wolves in Zanat-Ven. He was a prisoner of war, one of the leaders of the enemy. Yang-Wo fought back tears as he realized he was probably about to be executed.

As the cougar approached the dais, he noticed the four royal figures seated upon it. On the far left was a sneering female that looked as though she hated the idea of even being in the same room as Yang-Wo. Her jewels and gown were opulent, and he supposed that she must be a Princess. Seated beside her was a very regal wolf man, his age showing in the gray around his muzzle and through his dark brown hair. His expression was more so a lack of an expression than anything, and Yang-Wo couldn't read him. To the far right, a wolf boy was staring off to the side, clearly bored by the whole proceeding. He must be a Prince, and he looked only a bit older than Yang-Wo himself. There was something about this wolf that seemed different, but he couldn't quite place it...until he saw the Queen. She was elevated the highest, and had the largest throne. She was staring down at Yang-Wo without a trace of anger in her face; moreover, she looked like she pitied him. And she was certainly beautiful. She had gorgeous aqua eyes that shone like the gems of her crown, and her fur was mostly black, but with a creamy tan section running down her neck and chest. Her muzzle was shorter than the others, her eyes further apart, her nose a different shape entirely, her ears smaller and more rounded.

This woman...she is part Yunka-Shu! Yang-Wo thought, his mouth nearly falling open in surprise.

"Kneel, you miserable bastard! You are before true royalty!" roared the female wolf behind Yang-Wo. He tried to do as he was told, but it was too late. She slammed her fists between his shoulder blades, and he fell to the stone floor on his paws and knees, trying desperately not to cry out. He still had some of his royal pride left.

"The court is convened to try and sentence Prince Yang-Wo of Beldai, prisoner of war," one of the men from the right side announced.

"Behead him and be done with it!" snarled the vicious Princess. Her sneer had made her seem older, but her voice gave her away as younger than her brother.

"Your Highness, with all due respect, this court sentenced this boy's parents to prison only. Why should they live, while he dies?" asked one of the men from the left.

Yang-Wo's whole body tensed when he heard mention of his mother and father, but he remained staring down at the floor, unmoving.

"You remind me of two great disappointments, Secretary Alash, and I would rather avoid a third!" she replied acidly.

"Silence," commanded the Queen. And there was absolute silence. She hadn't raised her voice at all; in fact, she'd merely spoken the word as if reading it from a list of other words, with zero inflection and without purpose. But her word was law, and the Queen was certainly respected, if not feared. "Prince Yang-Wo, please rise."

Even Yang-Wo couldn't deny the woman, not that he wanted to feel another beating anyway. He quickly got to his feet, but leveled his gaze on her shoes.

"Look at me, Your Highness," she said softly, and there was an audible gasp in the room. Clearly everyone was surprised she was addressing Yang-Wo with such respect, most of all the cougar himself.

As he met her gorgeous eyes, he saw the Queen was just about his own mother's age. She had sandy blond hair that was swept into an elegant style behind her impressive gold crown, and her whole body glittered with jewels befitting her status. She was a vision, her mixed blood giving her an exoticism without comparison.

"You and I, young Prince, are related, however distantly," she said, addressing only Yang-Wo. If they had been next to each other, it would have been as though she were having polite after-dinner conversation with him.

She waited for the Prince to respond, and when he did not, she continued with a nod. "Kevna, daughter of Ka-Ali, Prince of Zanat-Ven, and Yumika, Princess of Beldai, was my grandmother, and your third cousin, Spirits rest her eternal soul."

There was a moment of silence, which Yang-Wo suspected was in reverence to Kevna.

"When my great grandfather Ka-Ali impregnated your ancestor, he could not have foreseen what would occur." She paused again, but this time, the look she gave Yang-Wo made it clear that he was going to have to respond to her if he expected her to continue. The Queen definitely expected politeness, if nothing else.

"And what was that?" Yang-Wo asked quietly. He saw some reproachful looks forming, and he quickly added, "Your Majesty?" He sighed in relief when he heard the wolf woman behind him stop in her tracks and step back into her polite salute.

"I'm glad you asked," the Queen said with relish, as if this were an interesting story she were telling him over a board game or a picnic. "Prince Ka-Ali passed away twelve years after that night, without ever producing another child. Kevna, originally regarded as a bastard child meant to spike enmity and hate in the Yunka-Shu, was now the sole heiress to the Ulcouri throne."

Yang-Wo's eyes went wide. He had never expected that the black wolves of Zanat-Ven would ever kidnap Kevna to rule; he had thought that once their plan failed, they had kidnapped her to either kill her or simply to hurt the royal family of Beldai further with her loss.

"And so, when King Hyusith died, Queen Kevna was crowned, and Beldai and Zanat-Ven knew a time of peace for many years. However, my father was murdered by an assassin from your nation, and the war raged on." This was the first time the Queen had shown any kind of emotion other than faint amusement. There was bitterness in her voice, and her brows furrowed. "When Grandmother passed, I was named Queen. And here we are, young Prince. You are my blood, yet you are from the enemy, the enemy I have finally conquered. Now, what shall I do with you?"

Yang-Wo stared into her eyes, and realized that she was not being rhetorical. She actually expected an answer to her question. After several moments pause, Yang-Wo replied, "Your Majesty, I am at your mercy. I only hope that you, in your wisdom, may see fit to judge me as Yang-Wo, not as Beldai, not as my ancestors, and not as my assassins."

The Queen looked taken aback, as if she hadn't expected that answer at all, which Yang-Wo imagined she hadn't. He had never been a highly combative or confrontational person, so he decided that the best course of action was to surrender himself honestly to her will. What choice did he have? If he fought, he'd only make things worse for himself, and possibly for his parents.

There was a palpable silence as the Queen thought. Clearly, the court had taken her order of silence very seriously, and was not planning on speaking again until she expressly allowed it.

"General Daliah," Her Majesty said after a moment, looking behind Yang-Wo to the great wolf woman. "What is your opinion on the matter?"

The court looked annoyed. It was clear that they thought that she should have asked any one of them before asking the General.

"Regardless from whence it comes, Your Majesty, every life has value, and I am not of the mind that that value should be squandered senselessly." If Yang-Wo hadn't heard the General's raspy voice himself, he wouldn't have believed she'd said what she did. When the Queen had asked, Yang-Wo had nearly cried out, certain that she would have asked for his immediate death.

"I find I must agree, General," the Queen replied. "Thank you for your honesty."

"You are absolutely welcome, Your Majesty," the General replied with a bow, or at least Yang-Wo assumed she bowed by the sounds of her attire and body.

Her Majesty stared at the cougar Prince for a while longer, as if sizing him up. She looked at his feet, his legs, his body, his arms, and his face. He was still clad in his nightshirt, which was filthy and singed and torn, and which hung just above his knees. His long platinum locks were unkempt and dirty, and he suddenly felt very ashamed for appearing before royalty in such a state, even under such circumstances.

"Glaysia," the Queen said finally, turning to the irate Princess, "Do you find the Prince to your liking?"

The Princess Glaysia made a face that was the opposite of liking. "No offense intended to you, Mother, but I would rather not taste our supper a second time," she responded repugnantly. "I do not have an attraction to this feline filth." She glared down at Yang-Wo smugly, as if her opinion doomed him in this life and the next. He fought the urge to glare back at her, and found it surprisingly challenging.

"Xeneth," she said as she turned the opposite direction, her voice and face filling with warmth and affection. Clearly she preferred her son to her daughter. "What is your opinion of Prince Yang-Wo?"

Prince Xeneth, who had thus far maintained his gaze at the wall and looked as though he couldn't be less interested in the proceedings he was seated at, turned to look at languidly at Yang-Wo. When the cougar caught the wolf's eye, he gasped audibly, and all of the court stared at him. The wolf Prince Xeneth had two distinctly different eyes; one was a medium chocolate brown, the other a bright, intense green. It was the most unusual feature Yang-Wo had seen, and he found he couldn't take his eyes off the Prince, as much as he tried.

Xeneth gave Yang-Wo much the same analysis as his mother had, looking him over from head to toe. The second his eyes had met Yang-Wo's, he'd immediately seemed more alert, and certainly not bored. After a moment, he said, "He is...lovely."

Yang-Wo could feel the blood rushing to his face, his cheeks, muzzle, and inside his ears turning red. No one had called him 'lovely' before, and certainly not a man. It didn't help matters that the wolf's voice was slow, rich, and deep.

Glaysia snorted loudly, but did not comment. The court ignored this, and generally had no reaction one way or the other regarding their Prince's unusual comment. Maybe it isn't unusual for them, Yang-Wo thought.

"I agree," the Queen said, her gaze returning to Yang-Wo. "He is young and beautiful and strong, and therefore serves a different purpose than his parents. He also is not consumed by pride. Therefore, you may have him in your harem, Xeneth dear."

Yang-Wo's mouth dropped open, and he looked back and forth between Prince Xeneth and the Queen, unsure if he was capable of understanding properly.

"That is...acceptable," Xeneth replied slowly, his expression-or lack thereof-unchanging. The wolf's cougar blood was much less noticeable than his mother's; his muzzle was broader and a little shorter than the full-blood wolves in the room, which spaced his eyes a bit further apart, like the Queen's. His ears might've been a touch rounder, but not noticeably so, and there was a soft circling of white fur around his mouth at the end of his muzzle. He was as undeniably handsome as his mother was beautiful.

"Forgive me Your Majesty, but is it wise to place this particular prisoner of war, or moreover the sole heir to our greatest enemy's throne, in such close quarters with our beloved Prince?" asked a female wolf on the right side. Her voice was hard with conviction; it was clear that she was used to being listened to, and had no trepidation in speaking up.

"You could be right, Secretary Ysias..." the Queen mused, as if she had been told that her choice in gown were unsuited for the occasion. "I suppose he could be dangerous...but I think that my son can handle a bit of danger in his life, especially considering the current occupants of his harem. What else makes life worth living, Secretary?"

This woman is mad, was all Yang-Wo could think. Harem? I'm to be a slave to this haughty, expressionless void of a Prince?

"Indeed, Your Majesty," was the response. Everyone conceded to the Queen's will. Yang-Wo had seen it a thousand times with his own mother, though he doubted that this Queen had half the sanity and clarity the Elder did.

"General, if you'd be so kind as to escort the slave Prince to his new quarters, I think we're done here," the Queen asked politely. She rose from her throne, and everyone around her rose with her quickly, the people on the sides kneeling to the floor. In order to maintain a good will with the Queen, Yang-Wo knelt also, as much as it wounded him to do so. She was wrong about one thing: he definitely had the pride of a royal, and it pained him to be told he was a slave now, that he had to show respect to the Queen as if she were superior. In fact, it made him physically ill.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the General said behind Yang-Wo, rising instantly. Yang-Wo bolted upright also, not wanting to be poked by the knife again.

The Queen and her entourage began to exit to their right, when she said offhandedly, "Oh, and make sure he knows his place. Wouldn't want him to be confused, would we?" The way she ordered this was ominous and laced with underlying meaning, and it scared Yang-Wo.

"Yes, Your Majesty. No, Your Majesty," the General answered succinctly. She bowed to the Queen, her sign of farewell, and strode past Yang-Wo, muttering, "Come, slave."

The Prince felt like crying as he realized that he'd just been addressed as 'slave,' but hastily complied, following the General out of the great hall.