A King's Fury

Clarise hated kings.

She hated kings even more when they threatened to have her killed in horrible, unimaginable ways. But that was life in Kilan.

She looked up at the king, a finely dressed older man in black and red robes, and a distorted, evil-looking crown atop his head which strangely resembled the wicked horns of a terrible monster. His white hair was disheveled, and his face had paled considerably and his veins had darkened to the point of appearing black. His eyes were the most appalling feature of his face, almost glowing bright orange and giving off the appearance of destructive flame, darting from side to side, seeming to search for any dissidents of his will. Two members of the king's honor guard, clad in shining white armor and gleaming gold cloaks, stood watch at the base of the massive steps that led to the king's throne.

Clarise herself was a trembling mess, she stood at her knees. Silk-smooth, raven hair covered the tearstained face of the girl who was barely past her sixteenth year who begged and pleaded for her life.Frustrated with the servant's inability to stay inside the castle, the king reprimanded the girl, switching from the kind and caring personality of King Aegon "The merciful" to his less popular persona, King Aegon "The destroyer" several times during the exchange. The patriarch of the Raelasius family had turned from a man loved by the people, to a monster who burned those very people alive in the streets.

With a sudden, tired yawn, King Aegon IV quickly dismissed the girl, rambling on about getting his rest, and fell into a deep, snoring slumber right on his throne, causing the guards to instantly relax. Sir Rance, the eldest of the King's guard approached the girl, still on her knees and helped her up gently, concern spread across the old man's withered features.

"You shall be fine, M'lady," he asserted calmly, sympathy and slight resignation lining his voice. "He gets to the best of us sometimes. It's best to just listen and nod in his case. You'll keep your head that way," Shuddering heavily, Clarise released a storm of terrified wails, clutching Sir Rance's hand tightly.

"How terrible!" She choked out,"That one so good can turn so wicked,"

Sir Rance nodded slightly, and turned to look at the sleeping king, who was twitching slightly. His pale, shriveled hand was wrapped tightly around his thorny crown, to the point of blood dripping to the ground from the gaps in between his fingers.

"Indeed, M'lady. The mind of a Raelasian often leaves them, but not this late. Their affinity for psychotic violence often shows up early, and Aegon has been the only exception to this trend," He began to move the girl to one of the smaller doors of the great hall, which led to her, and the other servants' chambers.

"I'm... I'm fine, Sir Rance," she stammered, pulling away from the old knight."I can go on my own," Rance backed up instantly on request, bowing slightly.

"As you wish. Simply call if you need me," He said politely, watching Clarise hastily walk away with weary eyes.

Moving up a dark set of stairs, Clarise walked down a long hallway lit with torches. Her countenance instantly shifted from one of terror, to one of amused glee.