A prophecy was given to the Realm of Valeera, but only one kingdom took heed to it and set forth a law that would divide the people into two groups. The Fair and the Strange. One group possessed a promise from the gods while the other is doomed for...
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A part of him didn't want anything to do with the Purple Thief. But the mystery behind those beautiful eyes, her quick healing, and her snappy tongue only aroused his curiosity. If the incompetent king hadn't stopped him, he would've enjoyed burning her flesh in front of everyone. Even the king had come to forget how powerful he truly was.
He growled, fueled to the bones with anger towards the ridiculous sentence from the king.
Mercy? Curse mercy!
Eron clenched his hands, wishing to turn every Royal and noble in the room into ashes. They were nothing and meant nothing to the Diviines. Only he was born with a gift from the Diviine Six and should have the last say. He glared at the Purple Thief as they escorted her back into the Doomed.
Mercy! He gave an inner growl. Death is for those who defy the Crown, not mercy. However, if they would be spending more time together, then he'd show her no mercy.
For too long, he had received an overwhelming number of complaints from his noble and middle-class sponsors concerning the little thieves and how much valuables they'd lost over the years. He gripped his sword, proudly called , meaning . Yadonesar had taken many lives in its time, and many more to come. Perhaps the Purple Thief's.
The next prisoner entered the throne room. Eron took that time to approach the throne, where the king took a note from his Knight Escort Ser Garret and read it intently. Whatever the message said, it didn't sit well with the king. He shook his head and gave it back to his Knight Escort, who went to one of Prince Grisonce's servants. That's when he saw the quick exit of the Strange Prince himself and felt the hairs along the back of his neck rise.
"Eron, do you want something?" Dimitri asked, his bear of a voice partially masked by the rising chatter of failures who wanted to gossip about what had just occurred.
Eron returned to his first intentions to approach the throne.
"Your Majesty, I do not agree with the sentence you gave to that Strange."
"Of course, you wouldn't, Eron," he said, giving a disgusted tone to his name. "You'd burn every single person who'd have the audacity to enter this hall if I left you in charge."
Then why appoint me as head of your army? Eron held his tongue.
"I am only saying. That girl could've been the greatest example to keep resisters at bay," Eron said.
"The last I heard, resisters only resist due to the fact of sentencing executions," King Dimitri pointed out. "It wouldn't make them stop, but only add fuel to their anger if I sent her to die. No. I give you permission to see what she is. Do not kill her, do you understand?"
Eron gave a nasty snort from within. Oh, how much he despised this man. Describing it would be too hard and by far too idiotic to express.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied through clenched teeth.
