Violent Thoughts by Anna Andriichuk

 "Gods above, how much longer is this going to take?"

I inwardly cursed, massaging my temples as a lavishly dressed middle-aged man spouted countless obscene vulgarities at me. At least he was creative with it. Impressively so.

Marquess Cadot, ignorant to my evident dissatisfaction, continued his relentless tirade, leaving me no choice but to satisfy his childish tantrum. The status of nobility sure was an annoying prerequisite when dealing with such entitled, self-absorbed snobs. I sighed, felling a vein bulge on my forehead as the piercing screeches exacerbated my oncoming headache.

“Lord Cadot, please, let’s not- “

“Do not assume you may tell me what to do, peasant!” he cut me off, smashing his hand on my desk, various stacks of papers shaking dangerously. The plaque, announcing my position as Captain Naim of the 2nd Special Operations unit in the Kingdom’s Guards, bounced violently, falling off the surface before I carefully snatched it and returned it to its original place.

‘…’

‘I want to strangle him.’

Despite my violent thoughts, Cadot’s voice continued to reek with prideful venom: “How dare you lot accuse me of something so preposterous?! Do you not fear the law?!”

“Ah, the law,” I drawled out the words, finding irony in such ludicrous statements coming from a man backing an entire drug cartel.

Well, were it simply accusations, I too would’ve been as enraged as him. Contemplating, I leisurely tapped my fingers on the desk, soft thuds reverberating through the neat and tidy office. Then again, I definitely wouldn't have had the luxury to strut around so carelessly with such concrete evidence against me. Fleeing the Kingdom would be the most practical solution to avoid a public hanging. I glanced at Cagot. Yeah, not an issue for him. But confiscations and title deprivation? Now that was a given.

A subtle smirk creeped onto my face. A soon-to-be ex-nobility. A rare chance to be a bit more direct.

“Lord Cagot,” I started languidly, resting my chin on my hands, “let’s stop this farce.”

“Don’t you-!“

“Oh, I wasn’t finished,” I cut him off, my stare turning cold. “Say hello to Mister Potvin for me, will you? His conversation skills are truly one-of-a-kind, after all. Just a little persuasion, and his words flow out like a river.”

Colour slowly drained from Cagot’s face. His eyes shook violently as realisation dawned on him. Before long, he burst out of the room, hurrying down the winding stone corridors.

I sighed, stretching. Standing up, I scanned the wide variety of greenery around the room. One of the plants, a newly planted Hellebore bush, hung meekly, its flowers pointed down. I askedViolent, taking a pair of spare gloves from one of the desk’s compartments before heading towards it.

“Ah, I watered it too much,” I pondered as I examined the plant, humming a quiet tune while carefully moving its delicate leaves out of the way, simultaneously observing their condition. “I guess I’ll have to move you to a different pot for now.”

A soft smile etched itself onto my features, disappearing only as the sound of the next guest knocking echoed in the room.