King of Anything

26

When I wake up, I assume it's a dream. Until I come down for breakfast, and Scar isn't there.

Joseph stands, the food steaming, just on plate set out.

"Where s Scar this morning," I ask.

It's not like him to miss a meal. Is he alright?

"The Master has requested your answer," Joseph responded.

"Answer?" I repeat, empty minded.

"Whether you will leave," Joseph says.

I pause. So it wasn't a dream. I keep cutting into my omelette.

"Yes, I'll leave today," I respond arrogantly, putting the omelette in my mouth.

"I'll pack your bags Miss." Again, I pause. Scar wouldn't let this happen.

"Do I get transportation," I ask.

"The Master has requested you leave the country for the time being," Joseph recites, "he will pay for your living expenses and your transportation to a country of your choice."

"And Where is your Master, Joseph?"

He clears his throat, his eyes leaving line respectfully. "The Master is indisposed, Miss."

I put down my fork calmly. "Where is he, Joseph?"

"Indisposed, Miss."

I clench my jaw. "I demand to speak to him."

"The Master is indisposed," he repeats robotically.

"Do not give me a prerecorded message! I am the mistress of this household and you will tell me where he is!"

Joseph looked down. "Yes. Mistress."

• • •

The car stops in front of a familiar ballroom. It's grand and inside it is an i***t who needs to be set in line.

I stalk inside, ignoring the call of the staff, as I locate him instantly.

Light classical music is playing, affluential people chattering among themselves lightly.

I interrupt the calm atmosphere, stalking toward  Scar, who, as usual, was floating inconspicuous, watching, almost invisible.

"Scar," I call. Everyone looks at me. He sighs.

"What are you doing here dear? You have a flight to catch."

Everyone murmurs, disdainful Of my outfit , of my loud voice, of my presence.

"You do not have Joseph send me away," I cross my arms.

"Miss," one of the staff tries to usher me out. I sigh.

Fine. He wants to make a scene? I'll make a scene.

"I am pregnant with your baby! I'm your wife how dare you have the servant send me away!"

He cringes. "What? Wait!"

The murmurs grow louder.

What a bold couple.

She's married to him?

"You didn't even say good bye! Are you trying to send me home in some garbage airlines? Delta Airlines really? Are you trying to kill me!"

Delta airlines?

Oh, dear. Even their first class is low class.

He really is trying to kill her.

"No! I was going to send you in the jet."

"The jet?! I'm eleven months pregnant!"

"That's not even possible," he gasps, exasperated.

I'm keep doing this, and he realizes it. With a heavy sigh, he takes my arm; walking me out.

"You are so much trouble," he whispers.

I smirk.