The End of Crowen : A Novellete Told Through Dark Academia Playlists

the villain who wanted to dance

Violins, cellos, violas, and many more; it was a full orchestra. It was an impressive scene to most of the kingdom, as usually there was only a quartet to humor the ballroom. The ceiling was a masterpiece. Gods like Dionysus and Persephone ran across the cotton clouds above.

The wealthy villagers, dukes, and duchesses chatted amongst themselves -most likely about their grand mansions and luxurious wines- while the king, Francis, sat quietly on a throne at the front of the room.

His robe was resplendent. It reflected the patterns of the chandeliers who swayed and sang from the ceiling. Basil stood in the center of it all.

It was underwhelming. The whole ball was just a small taste of what the monarch could show off. It was all for the public eye anyway. The more who believed they were a wealthy kingdom, the more people scared to fight against it. Money and privacy are powerful and effective.

Ploddingly, Basil made his way over to Francis' throne and did his best to go unnoticed. He was well-favored throughout the town. As a community figure and the apothecary, he was quite well known. But he couldn't let randoms who wanted to ask him about their medical issues distract him from his real goal.

The orchestra began a new number, and the clustered people began to organize and split up into groups of two. Their dancing was slow and mindless, but there was some deep purpose rooted there. For the purpose that one does anything at all. Basil was in the way. The crowd knocked his lanky body to the front of the ballroom.

But it was where he wanted to be. He edged his way to the king, stopped directly in front of Francis, and kissed his hand.

"Dance with me," Basil whispered. Francis shook with laughter, leaned forward, and smiled.

"Oh, usually people ask. What's your name?"

"Basil Brigid, my grace. I'm the apothecary here in town. You've seen me before around the castle. Now I wish you to dance with me. I'm no dutch, but I have a strong and powerful reputation. And you...you're absolutely stunning tonight." He bowed.

"You're honest...I kind of like that. Why not, Mr. Brigid, I'll dance with you." Francis let himself be escorted to the center of the ballroom floor, where they began their dance. Basil placed one hand on the king's hip, and the other intertwined into Francis'. Both's faces were beaming but both tried their best to hide it.

"Can you not keep eye contact with me, Basil? Is something the matter with my face?" Francis questioned self-consciously.

"No no, not at all. Your face is wonderful! You have the prettiest eyes, you have the prettiest skin! How did you get it to glow like that? And your lips are so full and...I got distracted. It's just easier to think. I guess that's what makes me so approachable, too. If I'm being honest, I thought you hated me. I think I remember when I first came into town, you smacked me?"

Francis' cheeks turned a rosy-red. There was some sort of sugary and innocent delicateness stored beneath those words that he could taste, there was also a bitter dash of embarrassment. He wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"I-I see what you mean by that. And I almost forgot that happened...I apologize. I wasn't me that day."

"It's alright there's no need-" the song's ending left Basil's sentence unfinished. They waited a few moments, and then let go of one another reluctantly.

"Thank you for this dance, your majesty." Basil bowed and began to walk away when the king grabbed his hand. It was an impulsive movement, just to touch him once more before he disappeared.

"You could call me Francis, if you'd like to," he squeaked out.

"Alright, Francis. Hopefully we'll cross paths again soon."