Rose's Dilemma

Chapter 13: Ramses

The evening air blew briskly through the city's white walls, swirling around King Nimmod as he stood on his balcony. His view was protected by a thick field of trees that kept out the chill and muffled the sound of the winds whistle. Nimmod felt he was truly king, seeing he had a beautiful vantage point from which to observe the Westerian treeline.

Nimmod's advisor, Ramses, glided forward, her toned figure and deep-set curves moved with grace. Every part of her was only accentuated more by her form-fitting silk gown.

"Each knight is in position," she announced in a voice as soft as silk. She conveyed a sense of loyalty by bowing her head. She was an exotic Westerian with blazing red locks cascading like a fiery waterfall down her shimmering green backless gown. Her seductive violet eyes sparkled in the faint torchlight. Yes, every inch of Ramses was Westerian from her shapely hips to her full lips yet, she blended effortlessly within the Glenoid population as if she were one of their own. Nimmod gave a satisfied nod, a hint of a smile gracing his toothy mouth. He took one last look from the balcony, knowing that anyone who set foot outside would be met with deadly force. This time they'd be ready. This time, no one would oppose Nimmod and Chestme law.

"No suspicious activity? Nothing more menacing than one would expect?" Nimmod hissed, his black eyes shown near a torchlight. "No more Glenoids trying to leave Chestme?" He stepped closer to her. "What of my sons?"

Ramses cleared her throat. "I've asked your sons to attend you, but they refused," she said and paused. His advisor shifted in her stance. Stillness radiated off her. It was a silence longer than she normally made and Nimmod knew it. "You have something on your mind?"

"Have you been aware of my favor, my lord," she whispered, her lips trembling. "Your favor?" Nimmod asked with a confused expression. With shaky hands, Ramses reached out to him. "I revere you beyond measure. You have imbued the Glenoid with unparalleled grandeur." Nimmod's eyes widened noticing her, and he leaned in closer to his advisor."Please, my lord," she begged, "Recognize my love for you."

Nimmod's smoldering gaze rested on her. "One desires what one cannot have. The more I ignore your charm and beauty, the more powerful the urge for me to succumb to you grows. I am Glenoid and you are Westerian; a deadly combination, as we both understand too well. I long to bridge the gap between us, but that fate is impossible. I fear." He paused, correcting himself. "I know that our compounding biology would spell doom for you, and I couldn't bring myself to risk your life for even one tender second of bliss."

She sighed. Ramses took the lizard lord's scaly hand, pressing her lips against his Chestmian flesh. Her breath caressed his skin like a light breeze. "A complication I never asked for, my lord." she stepped closer, daring him to love her back. 

"Delivered on Chestme's doorstep long ago." The Glenoids, although once a passing interest to her at age five, had become as vital to Ramses as breathing itself. As she grew, the Westerian embraced their customs and beliefs. She had grown to love them deeply, grown to love Lord Nimmod deeply. 

Assimilation into the Glenoid culture was effortless for her, and she could not imagine living any other life. The lizard race had hailed her with open arms as a true member of their own in turn.

"Back to the subject at hand, my advisor. Of the three who had left."

"Mmuz, Syperion and Low the Knight. These three were the ones who had decided to defy your authority. Might I add, the more freedom they have, the greater the danger they represent."He looked over at a flame sparking-wall torch. 

The fiery torches of the royal hall painted a spellbinding line of vivid hue, bathing the majestic throne room in an eerie but beautiful glow. He said, "You of all people should understand. You are unique. There are others similar to you, but none exactly like you. You are different to Glenoids and even different to most Westerians."