❝𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐦❞ (time devours all things)
In which a silver soul is cursed with the burden of five deaths, the power of five shards encasing her very being. In which she meets her star-crossed lover who, unbeknownst to her, has be...
"ANY LUCK?" THE high king of Epirus cocked a bushy eyebrow, his patience wearing thin. Behind all the fancy robes and diamond-adorned crowns, I saw him for who he was— nothing but a power hungry coward who sat behind the veil of curtains, a puppeteer controlling his toys to do the dirty work.
"No." I answered matter-of-factly.
Mother wasn't here this time. Not like she'd be any much of a help. In a way, it was one less royal snob to condescend me.
The weathered stone pillars and crevices of granite refused to let me out to the world that was a far cry from polished gold and riches galore. Songs of the lost saints of Epirus, oh the superior Epirus, serenaded the single immortal body reclining on one of the alabaster thrones.
"So you failed again." There it was, the disappointment and regret of having a daughter slapped me in the face. Begging him to terminate the marriage scheme had never aided the situation, and all my pleas landed on deaf ears, only fueling his growing greed.
"Didn't I already mention that Princess Dakota is not even a bit interested in me?" I boredly questioned.
The fight between father and daughter was not waged with steel and blood and knives, but with silk and poetry. I, being neither good with my words nor with weapons, was no doubt at a disadvantage.
"How can you possibly say that if you never even tried to make him interested?" He demanded of me, now descending the throne as a fervent gleam shone with anger on his aging face. With measured strides, the king approached me.
"You don't think I've tried to do that?" I raised my voice, tearing my heart out through the screeching of my words. "I wouldn't come back here to bare news of my incompetence if I never even tried to get him to like me!"
"There's someone else, isn't there?" Father suggested lewedly, his gaze a storm blaze.
D-Does he know?
"YOUR HIGH KING ASKED YOU A QUESTION AND HE DEMANDS AN ANSWER!" He ordered, golden jaw twitching in the sunflares, the ancient blood flowing in his veins began to boil.
Defeated, I crumbled underneath his gaze. "Yes."
In strode a procession of guards, accompanying the loud voice of my father like sun-dried figs and red wine. "Issue an arrest warrant for Ixchel. We're heading to Nouxiton now."
