“It’s a lose-lose situation, either way. You can’t save one without sacrificing the other.”
Zeke’s kingdom is indeed a kingdom of gluttony, a place where excess and deprivation coexist. A city that doesn’t sleep, caught in a cycle of relentless consumption, its pulse throbbing with hunger that never seems to be satiated.
In this kingdom, I see both the promise of a prosperous future and the specter of its downfall. The towering skyscrapers reaching for the stars are just a distraction from the people buried under the weight of their unmet needs. And at the heart of it all is Zeke, who, despite his power and position, seems as helpless as those who beg on the city streets.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
By the time the limo stops, I feel a strange mix of awe and sorrow. It’s overwhelming and disappointing all at once. I am in the heart of a kingdom that is both a dream and a nightmare, and I am about to play a part in its story. For now, I can only sit in stunned silence. The city’s pulsating energy coursing through my veins is a sobering experience.
“Welcome to my world, Zirah,” Zeke’s voice cuts through my thoughts, sounding less like a warm greeting and more like a regretful apology.
Stepping out of the limo, I face Zeke, his eyes holding a myriad of emotions I can’t decipher. I look around, absorbing the city in all its glory and misery. The crowds, the humming neon signs, the aroma of street food—it all feels surreal.
“So, it’s prosperous but overcrowded?” I ask, still trying to reconcile the extremes of his kingdom.
Zeke nods, leaning back against the car. “We’re one of the richest kingdoms, but our massive population dilutes our wealth. We have the largest army among the four lycan kingdoms. But that also means we’re often stretched thin on basic resources.” He pauses, letting the reality sink in.
“But why?” I ask, “With such wealth and resources, why the scarcity?”
Zeke looks at me with a sigh. “It’s the population, Zirah. Hospitals are overfilled, staff are stretched thin, and there are never enough resources to cater to everyone’s needs. The homeless shelters are overrun. We simply can’t keep up.”
“That’s . . . That’s horrifying,” I manage to stutter out, my heart heavy with the images he’s painting.
“It is,” Zeke agrees solemnly. “But each of our kingdoms contributes to the balance of the entire country in its own way. Regan’s kingdom is a controlled society. It’s the surveillance powerhouse. Lyon’s kingdom, as you know, thrives on farming, and they supply wool, grains, fruits, and more. Our kingdom is the manufacturing hub.”
“Manufacturing?” I repeat, a frown creasing my lips.
“Yes,” Zeke nods. “From clothes to furniture, automotive parts to electronics. Our factories run around the clock. We are the kingdom that never sleeps.”
“But if you produce so much, why the lack of resources? Shouldn’t there be enough for everyone?” I question, genuinely puzzled.
Zeke looks at me, a rueful smile playing on his lips. “If only it were that simple, Zirah. You see, we have other kingdoms to cater to. There are four vampiric kingdoms, four dragon kingdoms, and let’s not forget the fae kingdoms.”
“And they . . . mean what? They aren’t part of this empire.” I struggle to see what he’s getting at. Why do other dominions matter?
“They have their own specialties. For instance, Dragons are known for mining precious metals. The fae are experts in herbal and medicinal supplies, while vampires . . . Well, they control the nightlife and entertainment sectors.”
“So, it’s like a . . . a contract for goods and services? You all rely on each other?”
“Exactly. Each kingdom has its role to play, its resources to provide. It’s a fragile balance, and if we fail to supply as per the treaty, we risk losing our supplies or, worse, triggering a war.”
Suddenly, the magnitude of my role as a lycan queen crashes down on me. The balance of power, the subtle dependencies, the threat of war—it’s a web far more intricate than I ever imagined. And I, a stranger in this complex world, have to navigate all these areas and hope not to step on any toes.
The city, with all its lights and shadows, suddenly feels a lot more daunting. As if in response to my thoughts, Zeke places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Zirah. You’ll have advisers to guide you, and we’ll all help you where we can. Well, if we live to.” Zeke chuckles darkly. I nod but still feel the weight of the responsibility ahead. “You’ll figure it out. Now come on, let me show you our manufacturing district,” Zeke says with a smile before turning to the limo driver.
The limo pulls away from the curb, and I turn to gaze at the passing scenery once more. The city is both beautiful and ugly, prosperous and impoverished. As its future queen, it’s up to me to bring the balance that Zeke spoke of—to ensure that all the kingdoms have access to basic resources and opportunities for growth.
It’s daunting, but now it’s my responsibility. For this is not just Zeke’s kingdom anymore—it’s also mine.
As we make our way through the bustling streets, I can’t help but feel a sense of unease mixed with awe. There are so many people here, each with their own story and struggles. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it all, but as we reach the manufacturing district, I am struck by the impressive machinery and industrial scale of production. The factories stretch for miles, humming with activity as workers move back and forth in a choreographed dance.
“Our factories are the heart and soul of our economy,” Zeke explains. “They provide jobs for thousands of people and keep our kingdom running.”
“I can see that.” I nod in agreement.
“But there’s also a cost,” he adds somberly. “The pollution from these factories impacts the environment, and the work conditions are far from ideal. It’s a difficult balance to manage, if you can say it’s managed at all.”
“What do you mean?”
