"NO!"

The roar echoed through the chamber, bouncing off the marbled stone walls and reverberating in Queen Ester's ears. High Judge Azmus slammed his hand down on the bedside table, putting a crack in the thick finish. Two of the Seventen guards near the door started forward, but the Queen lifted a thin, white hand to stop them.

"William," she said, and her voice was as thin as porcelain. "Your persecution complex is only hurting this city. I will not see Vienda torn apart by your personal-"

"It is NOT PERSONAL," he bellowed. Ester flinched, visibly pained by his tone of voice. "I am an elected official and MY WORD IS LAW. I took the measures I thought necessary to protect this city, backed by the Commander of the Seventen, only to see my orders TURNED ON THEIR HEAD."

A tendon was throbbing in Azmus' neck, and veins were beginning to start out along his temples. His face was beet red as he seethed at the Queen.

In a tired, patient voice, the Queen whispered a spell that pushed aside the curtains of her bed, so as to see the High Judge better. The soft golden light from the room illuminated her form, draped in thick blankets and propped up against a tall cushion. She looked up at Azmus again, squinting in the light.

"I cannot watch you every moment of every day," she admitted weakly. "And we both know the King is not fit to approve your orders. So, then, how shall I rein you in, William? Some days I am...too weak to even speak. You continue to rule over this government as though you were already King. Yet you know nothing of commerce, of religion, of the countless groups that your actions make me accountable to."

"Your Highness," said Azmus, and his tone was noticeably quieter, but still trembling with barely controlled rage. "The Congress, they elected me. I speak for their desires, their concerns. The wicks are a nuisance, Queen, and they will bring nothing but harm and destruction to our dear city."

"The wicks have been here for years," said Ester bitterly. "Some of them have human family, as much as it pains me to think of that. The amount of trade they bring to this city is irreplaceable. When the census was taken, we issued them writs of residence, and according to the census bylaws that makes them citizens. It cannot be reversed. Your decision was against the bylaws of our kingdom and I am frankly shocked that you did not consult me."

"I did not wish to cause you any...stress," said Azmus scornfully, barely containing his sneer at the Queen's weak condition. "I felt it might upset you to deal with such matters."

"Matters of state, William, are my job description. I am well enough to see to it that you are not abusing my citizens."

"The wicks have no loyalty to the crown," he insisted. "Even the stationary wicks still answer to their...Durgs. If those heathens were to declare war on us, the city's entire infrastructure could be compromised."

"You are paranoid," she answered blithely, and raised a hand to her hot forehead, brushing back a few strands of jet-black hair. "And I'll have no more of you. If you can contain yourself later, William, we shall discuss this with the rest of the Congress. For now, I am allowing those with a writ of residence back into the city."

Azmus' lip quivered, and he narrowed his eyes at the Queen before turning on his heel and storming away from the beside.

"And William," added the Queen, raising a bone-white finger at him. He paused, and turned around.

"If you go over my head again," she said, "I will not protect you."

This cryptic phrase meant nothing to the Seventen guards by the door, but Azmus' face became like stone; the color drained from his cheeks, and he hurried out of the chamber without another word, his steel-toed boots clicking frantically against the marble floor of the Palace halls.