Chapter 114: Chapter 114
Tempest woke with a start.
She was alone.
In her own bed, of course, but alone.
Not really alone. Squab was awake and hopping around. Tempest couldn’t help but smile. The little animal always had the ability to make Tempest a little happier. Still, she was concerned that Dron wasn’t in the room with her.
She vaguely remembered that he’d kissed her once or twice, but she didn’t remember him leaving.
She turned on her back and looked up at the ceiling; her body was incredibly at ease. It was as if she were back on cloud nine. She was wary of the feeling. The last time she felt like this, Gerax had come to get them to let them know that the poor class was under attack.
Tempest pushed herself out of the bed; before she was even able to get her feet on the ground, she felt the slosh of liquid coming from her core.
"Oh boy, here we go again." Tempest sighed and did her best to keep her thighs as tight together as she could as she walked, or more like waddled, in the direction of the bathroom.
It didn’t do much to help, with every step Tempest left a small puddle of drone’s spunk on the floor where she had just been. She guessed she would have to get used to this one day.
She finally made her way to the bathroom. The warm water of the shower did its job in soothing her achy but satisfied muscles.
In previous times, whenever she thought about having sex, she saw it as more of a chore than a good time. She’d heard so many horror stories from her friends and the TV that she began to think real pleasure from sex was something only pornstars were able to have. That definitely wasn’t the case when it came to Dron. The man made it his mission to bring as much passion and pleasure as he could to Tempest. She didn’t think there had been any time with him, whether it was a full sexual experience or just petting, that he didn’t make sure that she was pleased first. He was incredibly selfless when it came to that aspect.
Tempest finally finished the shower and stepped back out into the bedroom. She was surprised to see that Dron had not come back to check on her. It was in that moment that the dread began to build in her gut. Something was wrong. That’s the only thing that she could think of. Anytime Dron was away from her, something bad happened. It was like an omen.
She threw on a light cloth and used her wrist device to contort the fabric into a long, flowy dress. It was something she might wear to a barbecue or something like that. It might not be the typical Thraqen attire, but at least Tempest was comfortable.
She walked out of the room and slowly made her way down the hall. She could hear talking, and the dread in her gut began to grow. This was like déjà vu. She tiptoed the last bit of the hallway, trying not to interrupt whoever Dron was talking to.
"You might as well come on, Tempest. I already know you’re there." Dron spoke loudly, startling Tempest.
She huffed and walked normally into the main room. She was slightly relieved when she saw it wasn’t Gerax but Maznik.
"Hello, how are you?" Tempest walked in and smiled at the slightly older man.
"I’m doing well. How are you?" Maznik replied politely.
"I could be better, but I’ll survive." Tempest shrugged her shoulders. There was no reason for her to deny that she was still feeling bad about what had happened at the poor class.
"Yes, I heard the bad news. It’s a tragedy. Dron and I were just discussing what the next steps should be." Maznik looked back over to Dron.
Dron was silent.
Tempest glared at him.
He was out of his mind if he thought that he would keep her out of the loop. She didn’t care what kind of fighting would be going on; she wanted to be part of everything.
"Maybe it would be better if you—"
"No. Absolutely not. We promised each other that we would do all of this together. Don’t try to cut me out now." Tempest pressed both of her hands on either side of her hips. She didn’t want to come off as petulant, but there was no way she was going to sit this out.
"We’re going to have to go up in front of the high royal class. They won’t take kindly to you being there. If I’m not mistaken, Prince Jaqen is already at odds with you after what happened at the colosseum. " Dron pressed his lips together, his jaw tightening as he thought about that horrible day.
"I don’t care what he thinks of me. If you’re going to go in front of the high royal class, you’re going to need witnesses. If you try to go on your own, they’ll just dismiss your claims and probably try to pin the whole thing on you." Tempest threw her hands up in frustration.
Maznik cleared his throat. "I hate to say it, but she’s right. You’re going to need more than just you if you want an audience with the high royal class. Not only that, but if there are more people there, it would be harder for them to try and assassinate you." Maznik shrugged his shoulders as if that weren’t a completely unheard-of possibility.
Dron sighed and rubbed his hands against the bridge of his nose. "I have no idea where I’m supposed to find witnesses. It’s not like I have a list of other people who would want to go up against the high royal class, let alone for me."
"I’ll stand with you." Tempest said softly. Tempest would walk through fire to help Dron if she had to.
"And so will I." Maznik took a step forward. "Also, don’t be surprised with the other people in the community who would stand with you. You have more acquaintances than you think."
Both Maznik and Tempest looked to Dron, waiting for him to realize that he was less alone than he might think.
Tempest knew what they were about to do would be difficult, but she was sure together they could force the high royals to see how messed up what had happened in the poor class was.
"If you say so," Dron grumbled.
It would take a while longer to get Dron to realize the public was starting to warm to him. Starting to see him as more than just a curse. Tempest wasn’t sure what part she played in that, but she was glad to see it was happening.
A few hours after Tempest came out to see Maznik and Dron talking in the main room, they had managed to invite several people to Dron’s home to discuss what had happened at the poor class. Gerax and Mexyn came, and they added to the witness that Dron had done nothing but try to help Pinat and Aixen. Gerax told them all about what he saw during the fire and how Dron had been ambushed. He even went into detail about the fallen alpha’s plan to pin the whole thing on Dron.
Dron went from uncomfortable to a strong voice in the room as he realized that they weren’t all there to blame him.
"They aren’t going to listen to us." Mexyn hissed, trying to get her voice heard over the fray of people who were all talking at once.
"How can they not? All they have to do is visit the poor class to see what has happened there. Dron can be proven to not be there. The poor class are citizens of Thraqe as well; the royal class will have to do something." Gerax paced but continued to speak, "If they don’t even attempt to help with this devastation, how can they deem themselves fit to rule the rest of us?"
With that, there was an uproar from the people in the room.
"They will only help if there is a measurable force to make them seem unfit." Clik was also one of the people who took the trip from the military class to Dron’s house. He was present but completely unfocused, or at least that is what Tempest thought. He hadn’t said anything prior to what he had just said. She didn’t even think Clik was paying attention.
"What do you mean? What would constitute a measurable force?" Dron questioned.
"One hundred and four souls." Click said as he continued to multitask on something else using his wrist device.
"One hundred and four souls?" Tempest mimicked. "Where did you get that number? It’s oddly specific."
"It’s ten percent of the population. The criteria are written in the royal law that demands attention."
Tempest knew what this was; she was surprised at how similar what Clik was describing was to an earthly petition. How many times had she signed clipboards for people in her town trying to save the rainforest or close a nearby eyesore? Tempest would happily sign this petition if it meant that she would get justice for all those in the poor class who lost their lives and their homes.
Now all they needed was one hundred and three more people to do the same.
