The Crimson King

Chapter 39 | Strategy

Here is the final chapter for you guys until Sunday! I hope you enjoy it the last moment before sh*t hits the fan :>

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Chapter 39 | Strategy

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'Your fingerprints
have not washed
off.'

-kpk (a six word story)

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UNKNOWN

(Several Hours Prior)

On the night of the ball to celebrate Princess Iris Silvons debut, the streets of Aether were filled with music, laughter, and celebration. Warm lantern light lit the worn cobblestones, the market stalls open still- as those who were not in attendance at the palace saw an opportunity for money making that was simply too good to pass up.

However, the Lycans of the Greyson pack were blissfully unaware that an entity more deadly than themselves prowled the same streets alongside them as they celebrated, observing their cheerful revelries through pale, malevolent eyes.

It was easy for the creature to enter the palace- the doors flung wide as they were- security tight, yet easy enough to evade for one who was used to passing by unnoticed.

In this fashion, the creature made it all the way to the entrance of the ballroom before pausing to gaze upon the throne; bodies passing on either side like water.

Raised high above his subjects, Darius Greyson was an unmistakable figure, indifferent as ever, rich blonde mane loose around broad shoulders, stern gaze heavy beneath gathered golden brows.

The creature's eyes did not linger on the King for long, instead settling on the female who sat beside him. She was- the creature was surprised to note- oddly familiar. After a moment of pondering, the creature recognised the silver eyed female from the training grounds that day.

Frowning with displeasure, the creature tutted lightly. What a waste of time. To think that she had been in front of them the entire time- the thought was almost laughable. But the female was no longer as alone as she had been that day, and it would be difficult ... moving forward.

The creatures gaze travelled over the others that had gathered around the throne. The pale air sprites were distinctive- so too were the golden curls of the King's younger brother. Behind the King's throne, the familiar silhouette of the King's 2nd general lurked- the hardened lycan was an ominous presence- and was part of the reason the creature dared not enter the ballroom directly.

It was said that General Vandor Namir had gained a taste for Faerie blood, especially after the wars. There was a rumour that he could sniff out the scent of a Fae in a heartbeat- even one cloaked in concealment. As baseless as the rumours were, the creature was not about to test that theory. After a moment longer, it turned to leave, disappearing from the hall, from the palace, from Aether ... as silently as it had come.

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DARIUS