The King lay inclined upon his throne in the Royal Throne Chamber of the Royal Palace overlooking the Greyhorn Kingdom's Capital. His eyes covered by thin slices of cucumber, and his face painted with a sickly green unrefined paste of sorts.
A smile curved over his lips as the sound of rhythmic sloshing could be heard echoing throughout the royal throne chamber. He felt and saw no evil, as he relaxed, a drum of meat in his hand as his arm lazily rested on the throne arm. "Oi..." He groaned in delight, "Evanon knows how to make an old man such as myself feel as pleasant as a young artisan creating his greatest of work..."
"Hmmm… Yes..." The King placed his empty hand upon the head of hair bobbing between his legs. A young felt on their knees gagging, and crying, mutedly against his royal piece.
This man was old as shit. His skin was soft, stretched, and veiny all around. He had a long pointed beard, a sharp waxed mustache and a severe lack of brows.
A wart on his lower lip, and another on his nose. If he were fat instead of a skinny man, one would only assume he fed himself a little too much. Yet, the desire he sought was not in eating, but in pillaging the rights of others beneath and around him.
"Don't use your teeth!" He swatted the small nude elf between his legs with the meat in his hand, smacking her hard on the backside several times. His hand brought her head down deep, causing her to flail and push at his legs.
That's when a man entered the room, "My King! Your son, the Crown Prince, has arrived! Shall I let him know to return later?"
"No! No!" The King shamelessly laughed and waved the drum of meat in the air, "Do let'em in!"
The Guard nodded and when he turned away from the king, cringed before leaving.
Moments after the Guard had left, the King didn't stop his act, even as his son came into the room.
The Crown Prince had brown hair, green eyes and a set of perfect white teeth that had been freshly cleaned with charcoal and various herbs for freshness.
He made for the center of the chamber, ignoring the perverse sounds of his father and his toy elf. He fell to one knee, "Father! My King!" He addressed before raising his head in disgust towards the man on the throne. "You sent my younger brother to the City of Noctia, three nights ago! I would like to know why I wasn't informed..."
"Hm!? You dare question me, you spoiled brat?!" The King spouted as he bit into the oversized drumstick. "This is a matter of SUPREME Importance!" His choice of words almost made the Crown Prince snigger.
"So it was older sister's doing?" The Crown Prince sighed, "What was his mission? Collect flowers for her supposed brew of beauty products she wishes to test on our commoners?"
"No… She found a Scripture foretelling the return of the Heavenly Daemon Emperor," The King didn't seem at all convinced about this Emperor, or of its power. To him it was a mere work of fiction, as many stories written within their religion were considered symbolic rather than literal.
The Crowned Prince frowned however, knowing the tale very well, from his older sister who favored him over his younger siblings. She was the only reason why his father ever bothered with him, even as he was the most competent male heir!
"Oh… And the task she gave him?"
"To bring Lord Sephir into our fold of course! I believe he is the most competent in dealing diplomatically with a divine being of our stature!" The King pronounced to his, young adult, first son.
"Father… With all do respect, my brother, Prince Abbot is far too arrogant. It's likely a heavenly being would smite him for any wrong word which leaves his mouth. If anything, he'll push this Lord Sephir away… Or worse, against us."
"Nonsense!" Throwing the food passed the Prince's head, as if it was not expensive meat, he pushed the elf's head down until rigorous gurgling could be heard. "Aaaaah..."
The Prince glanced away from his father, lowering his head slightly as he heard a very sloppy pop sound followed by fluids staining the carpet at his father's feet.
The Crowned Prince of the Greyhorn Kingdom saw his father as a fool, a madman driven by greed alone. He had to be removed for the betterment of the Kingdom, somehow, someway.
Was sending his little brother part of his sister's plan to do just that? To get the King killed? Or the Kingdom destroyed? What was her plan in all this? The Crowned Prince raised his head to look at the Elf whos head was now under the king's foot as she was licking up remnants of white liquid from the ground.
The singular thought came to pass through his mind, 'perhaps the Kingdom should be destroyed.'
"You are dismissed my vile son, prepare to receive..." He stopped in mid-sentence to turn his head up to face the ceiling as he heard a slight ringing sound. He'd reach up and remove the cucumber slices and raise a brow. Nineteen portals appeared above along the high ceiling, followed by nineteen small crate boxes sailing through them and coming crashing down upon the steps leading up to the throne… Each one breaking and revealing the heads of Royal Guards. The last one to land, broke to pieces, revealing the severed head of the Second Prince.
The First Prince just stood there, staring at this idiotic brother's facial expression. His eyes then traveled to the lone female head which laid at his feet which had rolled down the steps where it had stopped by his toes.
His heart almost sank the moment he had seen it. A woman he had an affair with a mere two months ago, a member of the Royal Guard, needlessly killed.
The King's face, as the Prince looked back to the throne, was a beet red. Not sad, not afraid. Anger, rage and a need for vengeance filled his eyes.
The man who was first in line for the throne just shook his head, especially when those eyes turned to the elf at the King's feet. The next thing that happened wasn't a surprise to him at all.
The King kicked the elf in the abdomen, who was already on all fours, sending her tumbling down the stairs and onto the chamber floors. He chased her down those steps and then jumped on her back as she laid their coughing trying to get back up.
A loud crack could be heard the moment his boots made their impact, one of his feet had landed on her neck. White liquid trickled out of her mouth, as her body twitched and spasmed.
She was dead, her neck and windpipe broken, crushed by one of the densest human bodies in all the realms.
Letting out a sigh, The Prince just turned his back to his father and began to walk out of the room as the King went to bellow with all his might.
Exiting the room, the doors closed behind him, muting his father. The Prince stood there with an ambient frown across his lips. Directly in front of him was Evanon. "You sent my little brother to his death, Evanon!"
"Hm.. Is that so?"
"He murdered all nineteen people!" The Prince pointed at her, "Your proclaimed older brother!"
"When he saw me, disowned me, claiming he didn't recognize me any longer whilst he had my elven child in his bedchamber." Evanon casually picked at her nails, not giving him much of a reaction compared to his shouting and accusations.
The Prince's face twisted hearing of his Niece. "He's worse than father..."
"No, he's no longer related to me. By blood, or by spirit."
The Prince blinked a few times at this, "Not by blood?"
"Based on my divinations, he's killed and or imprisoned about half of the nobles who were in Noctia… He's beginning to introduce the modern reforms I suggested to father several decades ago that he refused…" The woman grumbled at this and pressed two fingers to her temples, "In three days, there were already hints of prosperity amongst the common people. I am sure he has already sent agents into the Fae Imperium."
"Agents?"
"It's likely he wants to see what their country is like… Even from the life I remember with him at my side, he was a skilled tactician and he could manipulate or verbally destroy people with ease." The woman looked to the painted mural on the ceiling. "One of the games he'd play, is 'what will that person do next,' which was both entertaining and creepy. He was never wrong after just watching them for a few seconds..."
"That's a bit different than the tales you've told before… Sister..." The Prince's mouth remained partially open as he took in this information. "Why'd you send our little brother to him, to die?"
"Because father wouldn't listen to me, and this will teach him a lesson with the death of his favorite son… So I'll just twiddle my thumbs as the Kingdom burns around his ears." Evanon took a step back from her brother, her fingers intertwined as she'd fidget and twiddle her thumbs, as she'd make her way back towards her own chambers.
"Goodbye brother, do try to survive."