Chapter 3 - The Wicked Witch of the Wild West
RHYS'S POV
I looked forward to going home at the end of everyday. And that was because home was the Amman mansion. A large sprawling mansion that was a popular tourist location in Azov. It was a mansion of marble and gold, adorned with intricate carvings and sprawling gardens, it mirrored the affluence of the Governor's position. It had about a hundred staff and a hundred rooms, the length and breath of the mansion was not a place that could be easily walked through at a stretch. The chandeliers sparkled like stars in a night sky, illuminating corridors lined with priceless artworks and tapestries that whispered the tale of the five nations and the continent.
Amidst the lavish setting, my mother Arabella and my sister Calista and I were in the dining having dinner together. My mother always made sure that we had dinner together. So regardless of how busy I was, I always made my way to the mansion for dinner so I wouldn't upset my mother. My mother was a woman of captivating beauty and grace, she was well past her prime, but one could hardly know it by looking at her. Calista, my sister, bore an uncanny resemblance to our mother, inheriting the same enchanting features. The same dark brown hair and big brown eyes and tan skin.
During dinner, my mother brought up the topic of the marriage alliance, something she had mentioned to me earlier. Her words were soft, yet carried the weight of urgency.
"Rhys," she began, her voice tinged with a mixture of warmth and solemnity, "Have you reached a conclusion as to what we discussed?"
I looked up from my dinner, already knowing what my mother was hinting at.
"The marriage alliance?"
"Yes."
My mother nodded slowly.
"You know our country's prosperity is intertwined with its continuity. The alliance with the Rusa Dynasty would be a great way to strengthen our forces, especially against those silly resistant fighters or whatever it is they call themselves."
I nodded thoughtfully.
"I am considering it. And I would let you know my decision later."
"That's not all..."
My mother said.
"What else?"
I asked.
"This alliance is not only for the benefit of the state. It's also for your own benefit."
"My benefit?!"
I asked in surprise and my mother nodded.
"Yes. You're my only son as you know and Alpha of our home pack, we need to continue the Amman line. You need an heir."
I shifted uncomfortably, my gaze drifting momentarily before meeting my mother's eyes. "I'm afraid we have different goals mother. The affairs of the state are of utmost importance to me. It's the only reason why I'm even considering the marriage alliance in the first place. Not because I need an heir... that can wait."
My mother's expression softened further, her eyes holding a maternal concern. "Rhys, my dear, you forget who you are sometimes. You are not only Governor but also an alpha. Your responsibility extends beyond governance. We need an heir to ensure the future of our pack and family name."
I pointed to my sister Calista.
"I'm not your only child. Calista here can take that up. But to be honest with you mother, the future of our pack is not really a great concern for me right now, my pack is fine."
Calista rolled her eyes.
"Oh Rhys you know what she's hinting at. Don't divert the attention to me."
My mother sighed.
"Rhys... you know what your father would have said if he was here... please think about what I've said."
With a sigh, I decided to pretend to agree, so she would drop the conversation. I replied, "I understand, Mother, but let's discuss this matter another time. There's a lot going on right now with Azov and I'm not sure I want to think about making babies right now."
My mother's plea persisted, her voice gentle yet persistent. "Promise me, Rhys, that you will consider the importance of securing an heir."
"Promise me you'll take it seriously?"
I sighed, I would only reply her to quell her fears and worries, not for anything else.
"Yes mother. I will."
"The Governor of Rusa has twelve daughters, eight of whom are potential matches. Choose wisely, and prepare a grand gift to showcase your sincerity."
Reluctantly, I conceded, "I'll thnk about it, But don't let your hopes soar too high just yet, it's the last thing on my mind."
.................
I was presiding over seven cases in the private courtroom of Azov. Seven repeat offenders who have posed as a serious threat to the country. I had skimmed through their files, I already knew the punishment I was going to mete out to most of them. I couldn't have them running amok in my country. I had to get rid of them.
One of the profiles stood out to me more than anyone else. Gemma Bracken, more popularly known as the Wicked Witch of the Wild West. I had never met a witch more determined to be a complete menace. She had a long list of crimes, one of which was occasionally turning people into animals, using her powers for bad things, destruction of property, practicing magic even when her license had been revoked, and so many other things. He couldn't wait to finally see her. The woman who had been causing so much havoc in the Wild West.
I did not like witches, it was common knowledge for everyone that I didn't. A witch had hexed my father seven years ago, that hex had led to my father's death. We never found the witch who did it, I only remembered her face. That was all. But I had promised to avenge my father. And one of the many policies I had enforced had ensured that witches could not practice magic without a licence. A licence that I made sure was increasingly difficult to get.
Tension hung thick in the air, the weight of my authority palpable as I scrutinized each offender. Repeat offenders and agitators, their actions a threat to the empire's stability, awaited my judgment. The first four cases were easy. Sentencing for a human man who liked to steal. He had stolen many many times. Every time he was caught he would slip away again and steal. It was very annoying. I sentenced him to spend the rest of his life in Azov general prison. The next one was from the family of shapeshifters, a werecoyote who had gotten addicted to drugs. He got so addicted to drugs that they caused him to shape-shift in public and harm people and destroy property, his last crime was biting a little girl on the street, he had bitten half her face off, the girl did not survive. I sentenced him to be hanged and killed. Swiftly too. Then there was a werewolf and another human.
Gemma Bracken was the fifth offender, she was dragged into the courtroom with deritium chains. I wasn't expecting what I saw when she walked in. When I thought of the wicked witch of the Wild West, I was expecting someone older, not the young woman in front of me. Her curly reddish gold hair was a mess, it was poking out everywhere, covered with dirt and dust too but the shine of her hair did not dull. Even from afar, I could see her eyes, they looked dark green, but I really couldn't tell. There was a frown on her face, even with the chains, she didn't look defeated. She was a defiant figure, when she approached the stand, her eyes were defiant and unwavering.
I looked at her file again, I knew what I would sentence her with. Witches who had broke federal laws like her were surgically implanted with deritium, to stop them from ever accessing their magic and they were never released back into the society. A handful of witches were burned at the stake, but I had never given such punishment to a witch before. Despite my hate for their kind, I felt like being burned at a stake was a punishment too cruel.
"Gemma Bracken, you stand of being accused of using your magic to harm people, destruction of state property, illegal possession of outlawed weaponry and ingredients, practising magic even with your licence revoked and threatening to kill, how do you plead?!"
Gemma sighed.
"Not guilty."
She said and one of the officers snickered in the background. Gemma turned to glare at him.
Before I could pass my sentence, a hauntingly loud horn blared, sending shockwaves through the chamber. Everyone looked around in confusion.
A poisoned arrow streaked across the room, hurtling towards me with deadly precision.
Time seemed to slow as gasps echoed through the room. The whole room held its breath as the arrow aimed for its target.
That target was me.