Cholera

Marina braced herself as she prepared for another meeting with the twin kings. The last encounter had left a bitter taste in her mouth—Ruyi had openly molested her under the amused gazes of his court, treating her presence as nothing more than another game to play.

But she had no choice.

If she wanted to push through her reforms, she needed their cooperation.

The twin kings were just as surprised by her request for an audience. No governor before her had sought them out so soon after their appointment.

They had seen many governors come and go—four, sent by their stepmother, had been drawn into their circle of debauchery and turned against her. The youngest of who even became a man in Ruyel's harem.

After Sienna took power, she had sent two seasoned statesmen, men who had tried to bring order to Aeger. The twin kings had either broken their spirits or frightened them into abandoning their post, leaving the city to spiral deeper into corruption.

Now, Marina stood before them, head held high, unwavering.

"I need access to the civic amenity files," she stated, her voice steady despite the simmering tension.

Ruyi leaned back, golden eyes narrowing with amusement. "You think you can waltz in here and demand things?" His lips curled into a smirk. "Amusing."

Ruyel, seated beside him, drummed his fingers against the armrest. "Why should we give you access?"

Marina met their gazes evenly. "An epidemic is brewing."

Ruyi's smirk wavered, just slightly. "And you're certain of this?"

Marina took a measured breath. "The slums are overrun with cases of fever, dehydration, and uncontrollable vomiting. These aren't isolated incidents—they're spreading fast. The symptoms align with cholera outbreaks recorded in other regions of the empire. I've read palace reports that were conveniently ignored. The affected are already in the dozens. If no action is taken, it will escalate into the hundreds, and then thousands."

Ruyel's fingers drummed against the armrest, his sharp blue eyes assessing her. "You're confident this is cholera? Not just a seasonal fever?"

"The water sources in the lower districts are contaminated," Marina continued, her voice gaining momentum. "The waste from the city's upper quarters flows unchecked into the wells that supply the slums. Without proper disposal or filtration, disease thrives. I've seen reports of entire families sickened within days. If the pattern holds, it's only a matter of time before it spreads to the merchant quarters and, eventually, here."

Ruyi's smirk faltered entirely now, replaced with something unreadable. He leaned forward slightly, golden eyes narrowing. "So, you believe this will reach the palace?"

Marina nodded. "Disease doesn't recognize status. Once it gets into the food markets and public baths, even the nobility won't be safe. And no amount of indulgence will protect you from dying in your own filth."

Ruyi's irritation was evident, he beckoned her closer with a lazy flick of his fingers. Marina hesitated but took a step forward.

Again, he coaxed her with a small motion, and she complied, a careful game of hesitation and approach playing between them.

Ruyel observed the exchange with quiet intrigue. His brother, usually impatient, seemed endlessly entertained by this little game. Then, to his surprise, Ruyi guided Marina to the armrest of his throne.

Marina stiffened but forced herself to comply. Obedience bored the twins more than resistance. If she blended in, if she made herself uninteresting, perhaps they would tire of her presence and let her work unimpeded.

She consoled herself with the thought—it was like stepping in dog filth; unpleasant but temporary. Three years, and she could leave this forsaken kingdom.

The air between them thickened as Ruyi leaned in, his scent—sharp, metallic—brushing against her senses. Her chest was now at his eye level, and his fingers trailed to her upper arm, massaging gently. A blush crept onto her face despite herself.

"You're bold, Governor," he mused, his voice low. "I wonder how long that fire will last."

Marina kept her back straight. "As long as necessary."

She swallowed the discomfort, then, hesitantly, asked, "May I leave this seat?"

Ruyi tilted his head. "Many women would die to sit where you are."

Marina's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm too busy to think about seats."

She shifted slightly, trying to create even the smallest distance.

Marina had many quirks, but one is ashamed of the most was that she blabbers the most when she was stressed or desperate.

Desperate for a distraction, she commented, "The governor's office is a mess, we don't have enough chairs. There are still documents from centuries ago, and no one seems to have cared to clean it."

Ruyi appeared to listen, but his gaze remained fixed on her, as if she were some kind of exotic pet. The prolonged stare sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine.

The tension snapped when Ruyel sighed, breaking the silence. "Two officers oversee the records. I'll give you their names."

Ruyi turned to his twin, brow arched. "You're actually helping her?"

Ruyel ignored him, his eyes fixed on Marina.

Her scent intrigued him more than he cared to admit. "Convince the ministers of infrastructure, and you won't just get the records—you'll gain access to their budget as well."

Marina's breath hitched. That was more than she had expected. If she controlled the budget, she could do far more than fix the water system.

She inclined her head in gratitude. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Ruyel barely reacted, but something flickered in his gaze at her sudden warmth. It was gone just as quickly, his expression turning cold and calculating again.

-----

The ministers, as expected, were less than cooperative.

Marina found them sprawled in the palace barracks, engaged in a rousing debate over which of them had the most comfortable chair.

One was sipping wine, another was scratching his belly, and a third appeared to be napping with a quill still tucked behind his ear.

She cleared her throat. "Gentlemen, I need access to the infrastructure records."

One of them, a stout man with an impressive mustache, barely lifted his head. "Ah, the governor. How lovely of you to visit. Unfortunately, we're terribly busy."

"Busy?" Marina arched a brow, glancing at the untouched documents scattered across the table. "Doing what, exactly?" she asked, already annoyed.

If she had to hear another conversation about chairs today, she might set one on fire. First the court, now this? She had just escaped Ruyi's throne games, only to find herself trapped in yet another pointless seating debate.

The mustached minister waved a lazy hand. "Oh, you know, ministerial things. Reviewing, approving, deliberating. It takes time."

Marina let out a slow breath. "You don't have time. There's a disease spreading through the slums, and without a functioning sewer system, it will reach your cushioned palaces soon enough."

Another minister yawned. "Sounds awful. But we have protocols, Governor. Things must go through the proper channels."

Marina, with the patience of a saint, slammed a stack of files onto the table with enough force to make the napping minister jolt awake. "Then make time. Or I'll make sure the Crown Princess hears about how the esteemed ministers of Aeger are too occupied with their chairs to prevent an epidemic."

That got their attention. The mustached minister coughed, suddenly flipping through the files with exaggerated interest. "Ah, yes. Urgent matters, indeed. Wouldn't want the Crown Princess thinking we were… inefficient."

After much grumbling, they relented. Marina secured the records and the budget approvals, leaving them with only their chairs and wounded pride. She had bigger battles to fight.

-----

Meanwhile, in the palace, Ruyi observed his brother in quiet contemplation. Ruyel was engrossed in old war records, his sharp eyes scanning every detail.

Ruyi's voice broke the silence. "Why did you really help her?"

Ruyel didn't look up. "Because she reminds me of you—when you still believed everything could be fixed if you tried hard enough."

Ruyi frowned, unsettled in a way he couldn't quite explain. Their bond had always been unshakable, forged in blood and survival.

Ruyi led, and Ruyel followed—not out of submission, but because that was how they endured. No one else could be trusted; the world had sought to use, betray, or destroy them at every turn. Only together had they carved their place in Aeger.

But their unity had its rules—Ruyel had always claimed his share of whatever Ruyi possessed. Be it battlefield victories, wealth, or even lovers, Ruyel never took first. He waited, patient and assured, knowing that Ruyi's spoils would eventually be his as well. It had never been spoken, but it had always been understood.

Yet, with Marina, Ruyel had moved first—not to take, but to secure. It wasn't defiance, nor was it rebellion. It was something else. A calculated step. A silent claim before Ruyi had made his own.

Ruyi's fingers curled slightly against the armrest. He did not know if it was instinct, strategy, or something deeper, something unspoken between them. But he knew one thing—Ruyel was waiting, watching, as he always did.

And when the time came, when Ruyi had taken what was his, Ruyel would be there to take his share, just as he always had.