Monster Girl Defense Force

by Simon Archer

  My answer was simple as I let a small sliver of power ripple from my core so that my wings flickered in and out of existence. I knew the effect was intimidating, maybe even menacing.

  “Because I do not need protection.”

  I didn’t need to explain further after that.

  11

  Christoff

  Because I do not need protection.

  Rozmarin’s words echoed in my head as I grabbed a satchel that hung in my closet, stuffing in everything I thought I might need for a day out of the castle. I knew the Queen was strong, even for a vampire, but her show of power in the Great Hall this morning and again outside of my room made me realize just how much power she had. Something told me that I hadn’t even seen her scratch the surface of the well of power that she truly held.

  A shudder wracked my body at the thought of taking on the Vampire Queen and the Doom Bringer together on the battlefield, all fangs and blood and steel and death. It was not a pleasant mental picture. But, then again, the picture of her gentle expression as she stood outside of my quarters after walking me to my room entered my head. The contrast of the two images was enough to have me very conflicted. She was strong and brutal, yet gorgeous and kind.

  I decided to stay in the dark blue and silver velvet suit, even though it was the perfect match for the Queen's outfit. Or perhaps, it was because of it.

  I didn’t entertain that thought for too long.

  As Rozmarin informed me, Adriana knocked on my door at half past the hour and escorted me down the six flights of stairs to the ground floor. We had grown accustomed to each other in the time when she had been guarding my door, enough so that we could walk in silence together without awkwardness invading the space between us. Adriana wasn’t much of a talker, and that was just as well to me. I had grown to enjoy or silent walks together.

  Rozmarin stood waiting out in the grassy courtyard. I noticed that she wore the same dress she had been in for the morning meal, and I relaxed a bit, grateful that I hadn’t decided to change either.

  The moment Adriana and I stepped into the courtyard, a slight breeze rustled my hair and suit jacket, and Rozmarin turned around, her nostrils flaring ever so slightly.

  “Adriana. Christoff.” Rozmarin nodded at the gargoyle and me as a way of greeting.

  “Your Highness,” Adriana lowered her head as we approached. “Will you need an escort today?”

  Once we reached Rozmarin, the Queen’s gaze settled on the gargoyle at my side. “No. That’ll be all, Adriana. Thank you.”

  With another lowering of her head, Adriana turned and walked away, fading into the shadows of the castle. Once Adriana was out of sight, I turned to face the Queen.

  “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I asked.

  Rozmarin gazed up at me, and her eyes lit up with restrained excitement. It made something ease and something else tighten in my chest all at once.

  “Have you been to the east market?” she asked.

  My head naturally cocked, in confusion, the skin between my brows puckering.

  “No, I grew up on the west side.” I didn’t need to explain any further than that. The west side was, by far, the poorest district of the kingdom. Most of us who were born there never got the opportunity to leave.

  The Queen frowned before she hid it with a tight smile. “We will go there first. Then, to my favorite baker’s shop.”

  “I haven’t been to a fresh bakery in years.” My eyes lit up.

  The area around Rozmarin’s eyes tightened at my admission, and her smile froze in place. I blinked, and the expression vanished, replaced with an easy, charming smile.

  “Let us begin the journey, then,” she said as she offered her arm to me.

  Hooking her arm with mine, Rozmarin led me toward the tree line at the edge of the courtyard where a plain wooden carriage awaited our arrival. Two beautiful horses, one white and one black, stood in front of the carriage, their eyes half-closed as if they were about to drift to sleep any second. I resisted the urge to move toward them and stroke their shiny coats.

  I shifted my gaze to the figure in front of the carriage. A tall, wiry-looking male faerie, who I assumed was the driver, bowed when we approached, his curious purple gaze flicking to me before looking away. He looked to be in his mid-forties, and wire-rimmed glasses framed his small face. His skin had a grayish-green tint to it, as did the four delicate wings on his back.

  “Your Highness. My lord,” he said, his voice surprisingly low for his mousy frame.

  The Queen smiled kindly at the man. “Good morning, Markus. How are the wife and your new baby boy doing?” Genuine care colored her tone as she waited for the man to answer. Markus smiled brightly at the Queen, his eyes lit up with adoration and love.

  “Oh, they’re doing very well, Your Majesty. Nala has been very busy taking care of the three kids, along with her maid duties. I’ve no clue how she does it.”

  The Queen’s gaze softened. “That is very good to hear, indeed. Do encourage her to use the nursery at the castle if she finds herself overwhelmed with her duties.”

  “Of course. I will be sure to mention it to her.” Markus lowered his head in gratitude. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  He held the carriage door open while I helped haul Rozmarin into the giant wooden box. Once we sat down on the cream-colored cushions, I let my eyes wander to the Queen’s face. Not even two full seconds went by before she sensed my gaze, and her silver eyes shifted to meet mine. They were expectant, and I realized that she was waiting for me to say something, so I did.

  “You’re kinda nice,” I admitted awkwardly, slowly, the words taking shape on my tongue before I could stop them. It came out sounding more like a question than an observation. Her expression shifted, but instead of insult or anger taking shape like I’d expected, she gave a short laugh.

  “Don’t sound so surprised, my lord,” she said, giving me a meaningful look. “I am the Queen, after all. It is my duty to get to know my people, especially the ones who serve me so readily and frequently.”

  What did that mean? Was she trying to get to know me? I shook off that thought. It didn’t matter. She was the Queen. Like she said, it was her duty to get to know her people.

  I eyed her sideways. “I just meant--” I paused, stuttering over my own words. “You’re not as terrible as I thought you were.” I cringed and looked away at hearing my own words come out of my mouth.

  Smooth, Chris. Real smooth.

  The Queen barked out another startled laugh. “Well, then. Let us hope that your opinion of me continues to improve throughout the day’s events.”

  “Why?” I asked, desperate to move on from my previous embarrassing moment. She looked at me in confusion, and when she didn’t answer, I realized she needed a further explanation. “Why do you care about improving my opinion of you, I mean?” I averted my gaze to look down at my lap once the words were out.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” the Queen asked, simply.

  I shrugged, suddenly feeling shy. “I just didn’t think it mattered.”

  The Queen looked thoughtful for a moment, and the silence lasted for so long, I thought that she wasn’t going to answer. But then, her eyes cleared, and she spoke again.

  “I do not expect all of my people to like me. I do not even expect most of them to like me. But it is important that they, at the very least, trust me to run the kingdom of Constanta, to protect and to serve them.”

  So much genuine care and passion filled her words that it startled me. Gone was the cold, distant vampire Queen that I had met on my first day here. Today, a just and kind ruler who would do anything to protect her people replaced that woman. The skin between her brows puckered in concentration, plump pink lips pursed as well, and she sat up straight in the carriage. Passion rang true in every word she spoke.

  I hadn’t realized I was staring at her until her lips quirked up at the corners, and something warm and bright entered her gaze. I looked away embarrassed, but I could
feel Rozmarin’s gaze still on my face, only serving to heat my cheeks even further until they felt like they might melt right off my face. I hadn’t meant to think about how kissable the Queen was. That had not been something I thought I would ever think about, and yet I swore it seemed like the Queen could read my thoughts as she stared at me, though she said nothing.

  We rode in silence for the rest of the way to the east market. Nearly half an hour passed on a path through a tunnel of evergreen trees, and the woodsy scent of pine and moss and dirt offered a special kind of comfort in the silence of the forest. All I could hear was the sound of the horses' heavy breathing and the clanking of the wooden carriage over roots and dirt, save for the occasional merchant traveling back and forth between the castle and the East Village. We remained inside the carriage for the entire ride, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that the Queen was inside.

  Eventually, the tree line opened up, and the sun filtered into the carriage once more. When I looked out the tiny window carved from the wood, I saw cluster tile rooftops with overgrown vines atop them and smoking chimneys at the bottom of the hill. As we got closer, the cluster turned into a maze when the alleyways became visible.

  It didn’t take long before we made it to the bottom of the hill, and the chattering of village people and the clanking of horse carriages got closer and closer. Then we were in the midst of it.

  As I stared out the tiny window, it amazed me to find how well the condition of the streets, the buildings, and, most of all, the people were in. It was the polar opposite of what the west side looked like. Here, the roads were well maintained, and businesses used almost all the buildings, even the older ones that had been relics of the old world. Best of all, rather than recycling the materials of the old world as they were, the East Village had painted over the rebuilt structures and turned the abandoned mess into colorful pieces of art that were just as, if not more, structurally sound. The people, humans and supernaturals alike, were lively and friendly and didn’t look like they were a day away from dying of starvation.

  It was completely foreign to me, much like the atmosphere of the castle.

  “Wow,” was all I could conjure from my vocabulary as we made our way toward the open field where the east market was held.

  Rozmarin turned to face me from her own window, having heard my outward exclaim. “What is it?”

  Feelings of giddiness and wonder warred with conflicting feelings of bitterness and jealousy of those that got to grow up in a place like this where everything was beautiful and functional, and no one had to worry about getting attacked while walking down the street for a bit of coin. In my eyes, it was like a utopia.

  I mulled over my words before I spoke, trying to find an accurate description of what I was feeling.

  “It’s just… I’ve never seen such a… nice village.” I knew my tone sounded off and awkward, but I didn’t know how to say it without making it sound like I grew up in a garbage can.

  Of course, compared to her, I probably had.

  Sympathy entered her eyes as she watched my expression. “Most people who are born into the west side find themselves unable to leave,” she said, surprising me as her thoughts mirrored my own from earlier.

  I sighed and nodded. “We never had the funding to leave the West Village for a visit east, let alone to completely up and move villages.”

  It felt oddly nerve-wracking yet simultaneously good to be speaking to the Queen about what it was like to grow up on the rough side of the kingdom. Maybe it was just because it was relieving to get off my chest, or perhaps it was something more. Perhaps a spark of hope lit up inside me that told me if I spoke to her about it, she would put more resources into making the west side a better place to live. She could fix the crime problems. She could feed those who couldn’t afford to eat.

  Something like anger entered her gaze at my odd admission, throwing me completely off-guard and making my own defenses rise.

  “What?” I asked, my voice tight. What had I said that made her so upset? Her lips formed a frown then, her jaw working.

  “Your mother should have better supported you and your siblings. It was wrong of her to rely on you so heavily to bring in money for your family.”

  My hackles rose further at that, and my temper flared. Who did she think she was, judging my family without knowing anything of our struggles?

  “Excuse me?” My voice was low and dangerous.

  She seemed thrown off by my anger, her brows drawing low over her eyes, but she didn’t back down. “I said, your mother should never have--” She didn’t have time to get the words out a second time before I cut her off.

  “No, I heard what you said.”

  “Then why--”

  “My mother is sick,” that gave her pause, her eyes widening in surprise, “and my father is dead. We couldn’t very well afford to pay for my mother’s medication so that she can get better and work while I was busy trying to make sure we didn’t starve, now could we?”

  Rozmarin’s jaw slackened a bit before she recovered, her expression darkening as the shadows beneath her eyes grew. The temperature in the carriage dipped, and a chill went over my spine. I shivered at the cold, and just like that, the chill disappeared along with her darkened expression. She dipped her head to me, and this time it was my turn to be surprised.

  “You’re right. My apologies, my lord. I meant no offense. Clearly, I was misinformed.” There was an edge to her tone that I didn’t understand, but I ignored it, too busy working to calm my own temper. I considered pushing the issue about the west side, but I knew that it would only disrupt the delicate peace we seemed to have formed.

  We rode in tense silence for the rest of the way to the market, after that. When we arrived, Rozmarin made to step out of the carriage, but I reached to grab her arm, halting her. Her head whipped around, surprised that I had touched her. I yanked my hand back, embarrassed at my unconsciously bold move.

  “Don’t you need a disguise? I mean, won’t people freak out if they see you?”

  The Queen tossed me an easy smile, the last of the tension from our previous conversation melting away. “I make it a point to show up in the village often to avoid that sort of scenario.”

  I nodded, impressed. She’d really thought this through. “Alright, let’s do this.”

  The scent of fresh herbs and bread invaded my nose, making my mouth water as I took Rozmarin’s hand and helped her step out of the carriage. When I looked around, I realized that we were in a giant grassy field on the outskirts of the East Village. Wagons, carts, and temporary tent structures of all different sizes and colors littered the field, and beneath them were merchants selling their goods. Some sold jewelry and clothes and weapons, while others sold food, fresh herbs, and flowers.

  I had never seen so much merchandise in my life. In the West Village, no one would dare to bring so much nice merchandise for fear of it setting a target on their back and getting robbed. An event like this in the West Village would simply be asking for trouble. Live music filled the air, and when I followed the sound with my eyes, I found a small tent with four tiny elves dancing along to their own music.

  “What do you think, my lord?” Rozmarin asked, breaking me out of my inner comparisons.

  I turned to face her in time to see her slip Markus something and mutter an order that I couldn’t hear. Then, she strode up to my side and faced me expectantly, still waiting for an answer.

  “I think it’s beautiful,” I breathed truthfully.

  “You do?” The Queen tossed me a curious glance then looked out at the field then as if she was trying to see what I was seeing, trying to see the beauty in a simple market.

  I nodded, a small smile forming on my lips. “I’ve never seen so many pretty things in one place before.” After hearing my own words leave my mouth, I turned to face her. “Just to be clear, when I was living in the West Village, I only stole to survive. So… you know, you don’t need to worry about… that,” I managed
to get out, awkwardly, my voice cracking on the last word.

  When her eyes met mine again, they were serious, almost fierce, and without a hint of humor in them.

  “I know.”

  12

  Rachel

  I watched from my secret perch at a window high up in the castle as Rozmarin and the boy… Christoff linked arms and wandered through the courtyard toward the trees. I smirked at the pair, still dressed in their matching outfits from earlier. I had to admit, they looked good together, even though Christoff had far less decorum than my elegant, stunning friend, but what did I expect from a human thief from the West Village?

  A carriage awaited them, and Rozmarin, as she always did, exchanged words with Markus. The vampire had always been soft, too soft I said, but her people loved her, that much was true, so I only ever teased her light-heartedly about her compassionate nature. It was probably good that I was only part of her council and not the Queen as I had little patience for, well, almost anything. Rozmarin did the job well, though, and I couldn’t complain since she valued my advice highly. Whatever else I felt, the one certain thing was that I would never lead my dear friend astray, at least not intentionally.

  I nodded my approval of the boy as he helped Rozmarin into the carriage, almost cautiously like he was afraid to hurt her, and that made me laugh out loud. Rozmarin could bite his scrawny neck and kill him in an instant if she wanted to. Maybe his delicate handling of her was more out of fear. I guess he realized how easily she could end his life.

  Good.

  The carriage disappeared into the trees, and I reluctantly left my hideout, wishing I could continue spying on the two. I wandered through the hallways, but my thoughts were still with them. A day or so earlier, Rozmarin had mentioned to me that she wanted to take the thief to the East Village, and I reacted about how she’d expected me to.