noticed several of the king’s advisors and even the crown prince already sitting on benches and chairs, he found it odd that he had been invited, too. He would hardly have anything of value to offer in their conversation, as his opinions about how the Empire was ruled differed greatly from those of everyone here. The best thing he could do, he thought to himself, was to keep his mouth shut.
“What a lovely couple you make,” the queen said with a warm smile as they entered.
Thanos pinched his lips shut and offered Stephania to sit down next to him.
Once everyone had settled, the king rose to his feet and the gathering quieted down. His uncle wore a knee-length toga, but where the others were white, red, and blue, his was purple, a color reserved only for the king. Around his balding temple was a golden wreath, and his cheeks and eyes still drooped even though he was smiling.
“The masses grow unruly,” he said, his voice grave, slow. He slowly scanned all the faces with the authority of a king. “The time is past due to remind them who is king and enact harsher rules. From this day forward, I shall double tithes on all property and food.”
There came a surprised murmur, followed by nods of approval.
“An excellent choice, your grace,” said one of his advisors.
Thanos couldn’t believe his ears. Double the people’s taxes? Having mingled with commoners, he knew that the taxes required were already beyond what most commoners could afford. He had seen mothers mourn the loss of their children who died of starvation. As recently as yesterday, he had offered food to a homeless four-year-old girl whose every bone was visible beneath her skin.
Thanos had to look away or he would surely have to speak up against this insanity.
“And finally,” the king said, “from now on, to counterbalance the underground revolution that is fomenting, the firstborn son in every family will become a servant in the king’s army.”
One after another, the small crowd commended the king for his wise decision.
Finally, though, Thanos felt the king turn to him.
“Thanos,” the king finally said. “You have remained silent. Speak!”
Silence fell on the gazebo, as all eyes were on Thanos. He stood. He knew he had to speak up, for the emaciated girl, for the grieving mothers, for the voiceless whose lives seemed not to matter. He needed to represent them, because if he did not, no one would.
“Harsher rules will not crush the rebellion,” he said, his heart thumping in his chest. “It will only embolden it. Instilling fear into the citizens and denying them freedom will do nothing but compel them to rise against us and join the revolution.”
A few people laughed, while others talked amongst themselves. Stephania took his hand and tried to hush him, but he snatched it away.
“A great king uses love, as well as fear, to rule his subordinates,” Thanos said.
The king gave the queen an uneasy glance. He stood up, and then walked over to Thanos.
“Thanos, you are a brave young man for speaking up,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “However, was your younger brother not murdered in cold blood by these same people, those who governed themselves, as you say?”
Thanos saw red. How dare his uncle bring up his brother’s death so flippantly? For years, Thanos had fallen asleep to his grief as he mourned the loss of his brother.
“Those who murdered my brother didn’t have enough food for themselves,” Thanos said. “A desperate man will seek desperate measures.”
“Do you question the king’s wisdom?” the queen asked.
Thanos couldn’t believe no one else was speaking up against this. Did they see not see how unjust it was? Did they not realize these new laws would breathe fire into the rebellion?
“Not for a moment will you be able to fool the people into believing you want anything other than their suffering and your profiting for yourselves,” Thanos said.
There came a gasp of disapproval amidst the group.
“You speak harsh words, nephew,” the king said, looking him in the eyes. “I would almost believe you mean to join the rebellion.”
“Or perhaps he is already a part of it?” the queen said, her eyebrows rising.
“I am not,” Thanos barked.
The air in the gazebo grew hotter, and Thanos realized if he wasn’t careful, he might be accused of treason – a crime punishable by death without trial.
Stephania stood up and took Thanos’s hand in hers – yet, agitated by her timing, he snapped his hand away.
Stephania’s expression fell, and she looked down.
“Perhaps in time you will see the weaknesses of your beliefs,” the king said to Thanos. “For now, our ruling will stand and shall be implemented immediately.”
“Good,” the queen said with a sudden smile. “Now, let us move onto the second item on our agenda. Thanos, as a young man of nineteen, we, your imperial sovereigns, have chosen a wife for you. We have decided you and Stephania are to be wed.”
Thanos glanced over at Stephania, whose eyes were glazed with tears, an expression of worry painting her face. He felt aghast. How could they demand this of him?
“I cannot marry her,” Thanos whispered, a knot forming in his belly.
Murmurs went through the crowd, and the queen shot to her feet so quickly that her chair fell backward with a crack.
“Thanos!” she yelled, hands clenched by her sides. “How dare you defy the king? You will marry Stephania whether or not you want to.”
Thanos looked at Stephania with saddened eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Do you imagine you are too good for me?” she asked, her bottom lip trembling.
He took a step toward Stephania to comfort her what little he could, but before he reached her, she ran out of the gazebo, hands covering her face as she cried.
The king stood, clearly angered.
“Deny her, son”, he said, his voice suddenly cold and hard, thundering through the gazebo, “and it will be the dungeon for you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Ceres sprinted, weaving through city streets, until she felt her legs would no longer hold her, until her lungs burned so much they might burst, and until she knew with absolute certainty the slaver would never find her.
Finally, she collapsed on the ground in a back alley amongst garbage and rats, arms wrapped around her legs, tears streaming down her hot cheeks. With her father away and her mother wanting to sell her, she had no one. If she remained on the streets and slept in the alleys, she would eventually die of starvation or freeze to death when winter came. Perhaps that would be best.
For hours she sat and cried, her eyes puffy, her mind muddled with despair. Where would she go now? How would she make money to survive?
The day had grown long
