Unwilling to Succumb (The Dragon Lorde #2)

Chapter Six: Baring of Teeth

The main corridor that leads toward the ballroom was lit with numerous candles held between the rough cracks of the stone above swaying methodically as we passed. Gloriously tall, and stupendously stout men adorned in thick chain mail and plate armor lined the walls in an erected precision of stillness. The Bellator, otherwise known as the guards for the King. Their gaze hidden beneath the metal visor of their helmet never strayed from looking ahead, as we passed wordlessly by.

That is until father spoke, instantly causing the motionless line of Bellator to straighten their spines further up towards the high marbled ceiling above, with a soft clinking of chain mail. Which was rather absurd seeing his words were directed to none other than me.

"I heard your mediation ended shorter then I demanded, Emoriah."

"Err...." I began, as I scrambled to think of any positive justification for my behalf. Unfortunately, I came up blank.

"Ah, yes. Well I suppose we shall find another professor seeing as you scared off the last one." Father interrupted, with a disappointed sigh merely two steps in front me.

Graciously gliding along my side adorned in a brilliant gown of silver silk, walked Sienna. She had been rather quiet the entire way, with her face pinched quite wrinkly in her dainty nose. There was also the little action of her slender fingers, as they ever so casually swept over the white plumage of feathers concealing her short locks. That was when I knew. Sienna greatly did not desire to appear at the wretched ball filled with numerous gawking, gossiping, gophers.

Perhaps there is a similarity between us.

"Tis not my fault the man couldn't handle an entirely average body function of the human species." I remarked with a smile.

"And what might that be?" Father demanded, with his back still directed towards me.

"Oh, you know...it's always better to let it out, then in."

Fathers shoulders suddenly stiffened at my words, before his deep voice rang through the never-ending corridor in front of us. "We shall speak more of this later."

A simple sentence that was nothing but entirely threatening, for there was a vicious hidden promise beneath his calmly spoken words. A promising threat that the true conversation had hardly began. Before I could open my lips to fix the utter horrifying mess I had fallen into, we had suddenly arrived at the entry of the ballroom.

Two men lingering beside the massive wooden doors instantly hushed their deep voices away into the shadows as we rounded the corner. The entry, a set of grandiose wooden doors, laid cracked open teasing the darkness with an orange glow from the other side, while releasing a spurt of airy high-pitched laughter and excited cheers down the corridor.

This will be anything but pleasant.

"Sir Felar, Sir Kirk. Please excuse the wait." Father announced, as he sighted the two young men.

Instantaneously the men scrambled their frames into a nose-touching-knee bow of respect before up righting themselves even straighter than before. "No need, Your Grace!"

The naïve glowing smiles on their lips and child-like bobbing of their necks was barely a distraction compared to what they were wearing. Ah my indeed. The men were adorned in two bright red uniforms with a straight line of shiny silver buttons down the front. Perched stiffly on their heads, towering over us like a devilish woolly beast, was a hat. Two furry black hats that nearly reached one meter.

A spike of interest sparked through me as I observed the pair of men only a few years past me converse with my father, with a 'Yes, your majesty' and a few 'Of course, your wonderful greatness.'