Freya wore a soft satin pink dress that gave off a flushing-halo effect to her skin. It had the frills and fluff that she usually preferred, but at a modest level from the intervention of Pecilia who had ripped apart the ostentatious feathers on more than half the trim. But Freya's gown could have been a paper bag for all she cared because tonight was the night of all nights, the one she'd dream about all her life. A party stocked full of the greatest assortment of food that had ever laid before her adoring eyes. Scones, pastries, pies, chicken, stuffing, an endless cacophony of the finest foods crafted by the top-tier chefs of the world. Freya's eyes glistened as much as the polished silver trays the food laid on did, as she reached for her eighth chicken pot pie of the night.
"Stop eating everything in sight you damn mouse!" Cecil roared, suddenly ripping Freya back from the buffet table, where nearby guests were spectating the girl, stunned by the sheer quantity she'd been able to consume.
Freya chewed through a mouth full of pie as she glared at Cecil. And as soon as she swallowed, bit his hand.
"Ow!" Cecil dropped her. Freya immediately re-stuffed her face. "You pampered rat!" He fumed trying to wrestle the food away.
"Cecil!" Boyce yelled loud enough to get the attention of even more guests as he walloped Cecil upside the head. "Stop creating a scene!"
Cecil rubbed at his head. "You're the one creating a scene!"
Boyce gazed meekly around to the many eyes upon their chaos, a pair of which belong to Purveyor Unsil who was shaking his head at the general who could have fainted from embarrassment.
Freya used the distraction to seize a tray of pies and scurry away through the crowd. Cecil spotted her escape. "Mouse!" he shouted, racing after and causing everyone around to jump while looking for a rodent underfoot.
Brickwood shifted to the side, barely avoiding a collision with Freya carrying a platter of food that probably weighed more than herself. Shortly after, Cecil came chasing after her. The professor sighed at their lack of decorum, but only really had the mind at the moment to focus on the ball's entrance.
To enter one had to cross the wide balcony overlooking the main floor below and access the ballroom down one of the two 30-foot-long staircases mirroring one another on either side. Between the bottoms of the stairs stood the 40-foot-wide stone stage where a band played lively music for the hundreds of dancing couples. 20-foot stone pillars, shaped into figures of the gods, held up the balcony and their stone eyes stared out at the edges of the room where tables hosted groups of partygoers drinking endless nectar of the gods from overworked servants.
"Professor," the headmistress addressed Brickwood as he neared her. Silvia welcomed all passing guests with a small nod of her head, taking stock of those who showed but more important those who still hadn't.
Brickwood nodded politely back and took the empty position by her side. His all-black suit with silver embroidery on the shoulders matched well with her piercing gray dress. They both wore minimal silver jewelry, but it adorned their perfectly cultivated posture like royalty.
"Has anyone of interest arrived yet?" Brickwood inquired, taking note of everyone himself.
"Not anyone kingly enough to tempt your curiosity."
"The king of Estera declined the invitation after all," Brickwood noted, disappointed but not surprised. "Shame, I had hoped to meet once as a friend, before we meet as enemies."
Silvia raised one gray eyebrow back at him. "Did you think you could have persuaded him to our side? Not even you are that charming."
Brickwood smiled, his perfect teeth barely showing. "We'll see about that."
YOU ARE READING
Algernon Black || The Rise of a God ||
Romance"Gods aren't born. They rise." Algernon Black is infamous, known throughout his world for a prophecy that would make him a god if he sacrificed the one he loved most. Downcast and disheartened, Algernon never paid the rumors much mind, until the per...
