QuirkyAngel
White Masquerade's Blue Oni
Blah, bla-blah, bla-blah….
Krezbel sat on throne, an utterly bored expression on his face. It was only his step-mother’s constant pinching that kept him from slumping in his seat. Krezbel knew he ought do a better job of keeping his true feelings hidden. However, one could only listen to so many petty complaints from shallow-minded nobles before one started to tune them out.
They were all like sheep, milling around the throne room, trying to garner attention from the king—each trying to use their closeness to the royal line to their advantage. Wolf-like, self-important, sheep, but still sheep nonetheless. If they needed something they go to the king. If they had an argument, they expect the king to solve it. It was as if they expected the king to solve all their problems!
Krezbel had to fight desperately to keep his face from warping into a sneer. At least the complaints from commoners were relevant and often a necessity. Krezbel couldn’t care less about a broken engagement between Lord ‘So and so’ and Lord ‘What’s his name’s’ daughter nor the subsequent loss of fortunes. If the girl wanted to elope with another man, Krezbel failed to see how he could do anything about it.
Krezbel blinked in surprise, awoken from his sleepiness, when he heard an audible gasp from the wealthy lord and ladies. The Commander of his Rangers arrived at the throne room moving with the grace and dexterity of a lioness on the hunt. Maeve appeared as she would in a battle, her face caked with paint, giving her a feral appearance. The king was so mesmerized by the savage appearance of his former friend that Krezbel was at a loss for words.
He remembered arranging a meeting with her—but he had thought it to be about the Ranger’s budget and other trivial ranger matters. Krezbel never expected Maeve to show up looking so…exotic.
Krezbel could hear the murmurs of discontent from the nobles. Apparently none were happy about the appearance of the barbarous commoner, but they were all too polite to say anything. Only Lady Aithne looked strangely satisfied by the turn of events.
“Your Excellency,” Krezbel’s step-mother practically purred to the dumbfounded king. “I believe all matters regarding specific divisions of the kingdom’s military affairs should be discussed within a private audience, should it not?”
“Huh? Oh right…” Krezbel coughed, clearing his throat. “So that all military secrets of the kingdom remain protected, I ask that all parties not involved with the Rangers excuse themselves from the throne room.”
Which, Krezbel reflected, was the polite, roundabout way of kicking the nobles out of the throne room…and they all knew it.
“But, your majesty—,”
Krezbel didn’t even have to reply. Lady’s Aithne’s scathing expression was enough to silence the protesting Lord. Krezbel watched as one by one, the nobles filed out of the throne room so that only Krezbel, Maeve, and his Emerald Knight bodyguards remained. Their duty was to ensure the safety of the king and they were always present wherever the king went...regardless of the fact that Krezbel found them utterly useless and often escaped them with ease. Lady Aithne left last, her calculating gaze flicking only once to Maeve before the former queen left with the same dignity she always carried when her husband was still alive.
Krezbel sighed. "Why are you always so full of surprises, Commander Maeve?" Despite, his words he couldn't hide the glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. "So, what is it you wish to speak of?"
He certainly didn't think that discussing the ranger's budget required such a...unique get-up.
Krezbel sat on throne, an utterly bored expression on his face. It was only his step-mother’s constant pinching that kept him from slumping in his seat. Krezbel knew he ought do a better job of keeping his true feelings hidden. However, one could only listen to so many petty complaints from shallow-minded nobles before one started to tune them out.
They were all like sheep, milling around the throne room, trying to garner attention from the king—each trying to use their closeness to the royal line to their advantage. Wolf-like, self-important, sheep, but still sheep nonetheless. If they needed something they go to the king. If they had an argument, they expect the king to solve it. It was as if they expected the king to solve all their problems!
Krezbel had to fight desperately to keep his face from warping into a sneer. At least the complaints from commoners were relevant and often a necessity. Krezbel couldn’t care less about a broken engagement between Lord ‘So and so’ and Lord ‘What’s his name’s’ daughter nor the subsequent loss of fortunes. If the girl wanted to elope with another man, Krezbel failed to see how he could do anything about it.
Krezbel blinked in surprise, awoken from his sleepiness, when he heard an audible gasp from the wealthy lord and ladies. The Commander of his Rangers arrived at the throne room moving with the grace and dexterity of a lioness on the hunt. Maeve appeared as she would in a battle, her face caked with paint, giving her a feral appearance. The king was so mesmerized by the savage appearance of his former friend that Krezbel was at a loss for words.
He remembered arranging a meeting with her—but he had thought it to be about the Ranger’s budget and other trivial ranger matters. Krezbel never expected Maeve to show up looking so…exotic.
Krezbel could hear the murmurs of discontent from the nobles. Apparently none were happy about the appearance of the barbarous commoner, but they were all too polite to say anything. Only Lady Aithne looked strangely satisfied by the turn of events.
“Your Excellency,” Krezbel’s step-mother practically purred to the dumbfounded king. “I believe all matters regarding specific divisions of the kingdom’s military affairs should be discussed within a private audience, should it not?”
“Huh? Oh right…” Krezbel coughed, clearing his throat. “So that all military secrets of the kingdom remain protected, I ask that all parties not involved with the Rangers excuse themselves from the throne room.”
Which, Krezbel reflected, was the polite, roundabout way of kicking the nobles out of the throne room…and they all knew it.
“But, your majesty—,”
Krezbel didn’t even have to reply. Lady’s Aithne’s scathing expression was enough to silence the protesting Lord. Krezbel watched as one by one, the nobles filed out of the throne room so that only Krezbel, Maeve, and his Emerald Knight bodyguards remained. Their duty was to ensure the safety of the king and they were always present wherever the king went...regardless of the fact that Krezbel found them utterly useless and often escaped them with ease. Lady Aithne left last, her calculating gaze flicking only once to Maeve before the former queen left with the same dignity she always carried when her husband was still alive.
Krezbel sighed. "Why are you always so full of surprises, Commander Maeve?" Despite, his words he couldn't hide the glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. "So, what is it you wish to speak of?"
He certainly didn't think that discussing the ranger's budget required such a...unique get-up.