“What would you like this time, Sire?” Etienne stopped behind his King’s seat, half hidden in the shadows and whispered.
Without turning, He murmured, “Something interesting. Give us something unexpected.”
“I like girls but they die too quickly.”
Rolling his eyes, Etienne sighed. If it was anyone else the King would’ve strike them down for the disrespect. Instead He chuckled.
“Humans in general die too quickly.”
The King ignored the comment.
Etienne slipped unnoticed from the feast by everyone but his King. The King trusted his advisor, he would choose well.
The feast room wasn’t really a room built of four walls. It had grown from the trees in a circle, the branches reaching out and grasping each other creating a ceiling. Stars floated freely near the top, trapped from the night sky. Bumping into each other they would cause an explosion of light.
In the great hearth in the centre of the room a fire burned. It leapt un-expectedly and burned brightly, matching the mood of the King. He brought forth the darker emotions of creatures like lust, gluttony, and anger. His very presence was turning the crowd boisterous. Loud laughter, screeches of pain and ecstasy and the sloppy sounds of mouths opening and food being shoved in filled Her ears.
Spit slapped Her face as He cackled. If it had been any other fey She would have enjoyed watching him choke on his tongue.
Unfortunately this particular fey needed said tongue.
“I summon then, the daring volunteers to step forward and challenge all others.” Even though He swayed slightly on his feet He still held their undivided attention, respect from His court and fear and loathing from Hers’. He turned a lop sided grin to Her, His Queen.
She didn’t return the smile. Matching the Queen’s sullen mood a fine mist filled the room and dampened the lungs.
The King turned back to the feast. Only a handful had risen from their chairs and stepped forward. Five. He frowned.
Everything in the room shifted, darkness pulsed and the stench of anger filled it. The King tightened his jaw. “This will not do. Who else is there? Who!?” He thundered, the words echoing throughout.
Right away another three stood. They were good fey, strong, but not the prospects He had been hoping for.
The King’s eyes searched along the tables. “Nial.”
Nial rolled his eyes towards his monarch. He had no desire to participate, especially after the last time. Against his royal’s wishes he shook his head.
The Feast was silent.
The King strode down the aisle, emotions dragging along those He passed. Moans, groans and mutterings of utter joy and utter contempt. He stopped at Nial.
Nial felt the waves hit. Anger sizzled inside, his adrenaline peaked but still he fought. “No my Lord.”
The Queen watched on silently, shifting in Her seat. This needed to end quickly. Being near the King of the Dark court was not most unpleasant. The emotions He withdrew from Her... well She would soon have to leave. There was no way She would end up like Her predecessor.
The King bent down, He brushed His lips against Nial’s cheek.
Nial sighed and turned his head. Contact, gulping their shared gasps of enjoyment.
He hated it. After all the centuries he was never strong enough to resist, he always returned to his monarch. The King broke away from the kiss.
Nial stood and forced the King to straighten up.
He strode back to the head table. “Nine.” His voice boomed. “Nine volunteers.”
The Queen rose. She looked at each volunteer, smiling fondly at Bellatrix and refused to be frightened of Drust’s steady gaze and held it just as long as She had with the others. He was unwillingly the King’s own and completely psychotic.
Too dark for even the Dark court.