Rimelion: The Exploiter

I woke up to the sound of my holo ringing.

Except I wasn’t supposed to be waking up, because I was meditating.

Or… was I?

I blinked at the ceiling, my brain moving as if it was wading through cold honey-whiskey. The “meditation” Irwen kept insisting I do, the thing elves supposedly did instead of sleeping, felt suspiciously identical to just… sleeping. Same oblivion, even what was like dreams. Also, same drool on the pillow.

Were elves just pretentious about naps?

The holo rang again, louder this time, the sound cutting through my groggy thoughts like a particularly aggressive alarm clock.

I groaned and rolled over, fumbling for the device on my nightstand. My fingers found it just as the third ring started, and I swiped to accept without checking who it was.

Big mistake.

Riker’s three-dimensional form materialized above my bed in full theatrical glory, his rainbow-patterned coat shimmering even in holo-format. He stood with one hand dramatically placed over his heart, the other gesturing as if addressing an audience.

“Ah! The Ice Queen awakens!” he announced, his voice carrying that signature blend of amusement and grandiosity that made every sentence sound like a stage performance.

I sat up so fast my head spun. “Riker?!”

“The very same, my dear Charlie.” He gave an elaborate bow, somehow making even a hologram look pretentious. “I do hope I’m not interrupting your… beauty sleep? Or is it meditation? Do tell me, what’s the distinction these days?”

My brain was still catching up, synapses firing in random directions. “What— why are you—” Then it hit me. “Oh gods. The gala.”

His smile widened. “Ah, she remembers.”

“I—” Panic shot through my chest like ice water. I’d completely forgotten. When had he even invited me? My mind scrambled through recent conversations, recent messages, anything that might—

“Please, spare yourself the distress,” Riker interrupted smoothly, waving one hand dismissively. “I called your lovely assistant Lola the other day. She informed me with the utmost professionalism, I might add, that you would most certainly not attend.”

I blinked. “She… what?”

“Warned me, actually,” he continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Said something along the lines of ‘Her Majesty has critical agricultural infrastructure to manage and will absolutely forget about any social obligations.’” He tilted his head, his grin turning sharp. “She knows you rather well, doesn’t she?”

My cheeks burned. “I was going to—I mean, I wanted to—”

“Of course you were,” Riker said, his tone dripping with theatrical sympathy. “Which is precisely why I’ve arranged something more suitable. Brunch. Three hours from now. Far more intimate than a gala, and you needn’t suffer through tedious speeches or pretentious socialites.” He paused. “Well. Besides myself, naturally.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. “Riker, I… I have a meeting in—” I grabbed my holophone, squinting at the time. “—an hour. And then I have to leave immediately for a dungeon run because if I don’t fix the agricultural sabotage, the entire city will starve.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Riker threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Charlie,” he said, wiping at his eyes with exaggerated flair. “Look at you. No, truly—look at yourself.”

I stared at him, confused.

He leaned forward, his expression shifting into something almost fond beneath the theatrics. “Do you remember when we first met? At the Tower?” His voice softened. “You walked in wearing a dress you’d bought at two in the morning from Roberto’s friend, nervous and uncertain, pretending to be confident. You were a player—a very good one, yes—but still just a player. Trying to figure out what was real and what wasn’t. Trying to survive.”

I swallowed, the memory uncomfortably vivid.

“And now?” Riker spread his hands, his smile widening. “You’re a queen. A conqueror. You’re telling me you can’t attend brunch because you need to save your city from starvation.” He laughed again. “You’ve built something real, Charlie. You’ve changed and I love it.”

My chest tightened, warmth spreading despite myself.

Then his expression shifted back to business, that calculating gleam returning to his eyes. “But please, consider the old Riker for a moment. We need to discuss certain matters regarding your kingdom. Investments. Opportunities. Alliances.” He paused. “Three hours. I promise it will be worth your time.”

I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. “Fine. I’ll try to make it. But if I’m late—”

“You’ll make it,” he said confidently. “Ask Lola to ensure it.”

I opened my mouth to argue when his expression brightened suddenly, like he’d just remembered something delightful. “Oh! Before I forget—I hosted another Riker’s Game last night. Absolutely magnificent turnout. The contestants were—”

I groaned and hung up.

The holo flickered out, leaving me alone in the sudden silence of my bedroom. I flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling again.

“Meditating,” I muttered to no one. “Right. Totally different from sleeping.”

Then I dragged myself upright, because apparently I had a meeting, a dungeon run, and now brunch with Riker to somehow fit into one day.

Being a queen was exhausting.

Exhausting sooo much… so I slumped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling like it held answers it definitely didn’t have.

Riker. Brunch. Meeting. Dungeon. Agricultural crisis. Kingdom management.

My brain felt like someone had opened too many tabs and now everything was buffering. I grabbed my holo and typed out a message to Lola.

Charlie: can you go to brunch for me

Charlie: please

Charlie: ill owe you

I hit send and waited, holo resting on my chest and the reply came in less than thirty seconds.

Lola: No.

I stared at it.

Charlie: lola please

Lola: Absolutely not. You’re going.

Before I could type another desperate plea, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Fast, determined footsteps.

Oh no.

The door opened without a knock, because of course it did, and Lola walked in, holo-tablet tucked under one arm, her expression a perfect blend of exasperation and determination.

“Lady,” she said, stopping at the foot of my bed.

I looked up at her, still sprawled across the mattress like a starfish that had given up on life. “...Hi?”

“You’re going to the brunch,” she said firmly.

“But—”

“No.”

I groaned and covered my face with my arm. “Lola, I don’t want to do anything. Can you just… can you lie beside me? Just… exist?”

There was a pause, a very long pause, so I peeked out from under my arm.

Lola stood frozen, her cheeks turning pink, mouth slightly open like her brain had just blue-screened. “I—what?”

“Just… be here,” I said quietly, patting the space beside me. “Please?”

She blinked. Looked at the bed. Looked at me. Looked at the bed again.

“I can work from anywhere,” she finally said, voice carefully controlled. She moved slowly, almost hesitantly, and sat on the edge of the mattress. Then, after another moment of internal debate, she laid down beside me, keeping a professional six inches of space between us.

Her holo-tablet lit up immediately, and she angled it so she could see the screen while lying on her side.

“This is…” she started, then stopped, her blush deepening. “This is the best place to work from.”

My heart did something complicated.

I turned my head to look at her, but she was firmly focused on her tablet, scrolling through what looked like supply manifests with deep concentration.

So I turned back to the ceiling.

We just… existed.

The sound of her stylus tapping against the holo-screen. My own breathing. The faint hum of the building’s systems. Outside, the city was waking up, distant traffic, the occasional horn, the muted buzz of life continuing whether I was ready for it or not.

It was… nice.

Quiet.

Safe.

After a while, I spoke. “I’m starting to think I won’t be able to do everything.”

Lola’s stylus stopped moving.

I kept my eyes on the ceiling. “Like… I’m not good enough. For all of this.” I swallowed. “Being a Queen isn’t just about being the best player. It’s not about leveling up or clearing dungeons or winning fights. It’s…” I gestured vaguely upward. “It’s meeting Riker. It’s economics and politics and remembering galas I apparently got invited to. It’s making sure people don’t starve because I forgot to fix the crops.”

The words tumbled out, messy and unfiltered.

“I’m trying my best,” I continued, voice smaller now. “I have powers. I’ll do my best in the dungeon. I’ll fix the sabotage. But that’s the easy part, you know? The fighting, or magic. That makes sense to me.” I exhaled slowly. “The rest of it… I don’t know if I’m enough.”

Silence.

Then Lola set her tablet down and turned onto her side, facing me fully. “You’re not alone,” she whispered.

I turned my head to look at her.

Her eyes were steady, serious, but warm. “You have a team, Lady. You have Dmitry handling Altandai. You have Tyler managing the economy. You have Lucas, Katherine, Frozna… people who would follow you into a dungeon to fix magical agriculture.” Her lips curved into a small smile. “And you have me. I handled Riker, didn’t I?”

I blinked. “Wait—you what?”

“I told him you wouldn’t come to the gala,” she said matter-of-factly. “So he’d plan something else. Something more manageable.”

“He called me this morning,” I said, still processing. “About brunch.”

Lola’s expression shifted immediately, part resignation, part strategic recalculation. She picked up her tablet again, stylus moving quickly. “You weren’t joking in your message. Then I’ll rearrange the dungeon departure time. Push it to late afternoon. You can do both.”

“Lola—”

“Non-negotiable,” she said, not looking up.

I stared at her profile as she worked, the way her hair fell slightly across her face, the determined set of her jaw, the faint furrow between her brows as she reorganized an entire day’s worth of critical planning like it was nothing.

“You’re amazing,” I mumbled.

She froze.

“Not just as an assistant,” I continued, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “As a person. I…” I swallowed. “I love you as a person.”

Her eyes went wide, the tablet nearly slipping from her hands.

“Too bad I’m not John anymore,” I finished, trying to make it sound casual, like my heart wasn’t hammering against my ribs.

Lola’s face turned completely red.

She set the tablet down very carefully, like it might explode if she moved too fast. “I…” she started, voice barely above a whisper.

I waited.

She really looked at me, her expression vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before. “...You don’t need to be.”

The words hung in the air between us.

My brain took a full three seconds to process what she’d just said.

“I—what?”

“You don’t need to be John,” Lola repeated, quieter, her cheeks still blazing. “I… I’m not…” She took a breath. “I don’t need you to be John.”

Oh.

Oh.

I moved before I could overthink it, closing the space between us and wrapping my arms around her. She made a small surprised sound but hugged back immediately, her arms coming up around my shoulders.

We just held each other.

“Lola,” I whispered.

“Charlie,” she whispered back.

Her heart was beating as fast as mine.

We stayed like that for a long moment… no kingdoms, no crises. Just us.

Eventually, she pulled back just enough to look at me; her face still pink but her expression settling into something more composed. “You still have to go to the brunch.”

I groaned.

“And the meeting,” she continued, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “And the dungeon.”

“You’re terrible,” I muttered.

“And you love me anyway,” she said, then immediately looked horrified at her own words.

I grinned. “Yeah. I do.”

She buried her face in my shoulder with a muffled sound of mortification. I laughed and held her closer, feeling lighter than I had in days.

Maybe I couldn’t do everything.

But with Lola beside me?

I could try.