Cerculean

{3}

"I refuse to marry a gib face like you!" Avanelle shouted to the brick-faced king who sat across the long table from her.

He looked up at her from the papers he was skimming from, mouth slightly open from explaining certain details to Avanelle and the Consligio Reale—who occupied the remaining seats on both ends of the long table between Avanelle and Zephon—before he was interrupted by the former.

   The members of the council first gawked at the words that came from his mouth, and by the time Avanelle had shot her insult at Zephon, their mouths were practically hanging from their jaws.

   In the early morning of day, Avanelle was awoken and hauled out of bed by a different set of housemaids, this time they no longer wore the white aprons that the previous pair had, and instead they wore sky blue dresses with short capped sleeves and a turtle neck that was secured with two white pearls.

   She was nearly deciding whether or not to attack the two women before she realized both her arms and legs were tied together the same way they had been when she first arrived at the palace. 

   Avanelle thought back to how she glared helplessly at the two women as they peered down at her from the bed, realizing she could not get up after countless shouts and remarks at her.

   After they had put her into an awful and itchy poofy yellow dress that sent shivers through her entire body each time her skin would even graze the material, four guards escorted her to the meeting room where she now sat—accompanied by the Consligio Reale, Zephon and his royal advisor. Not to mention the many guards that stood as sentries near the walls.

    But despite the bitter situation she was in, the room was magnificent, just like the rest of the palace.

   The walls were decorated with a wallpaper of flower prints and golden wall trims that she wouldn't be surprised to be pure gold. The ceiling was carved with beautiful designs and a memorial in the middle commemorating a gruesome, yet well painted battle.

   They sat at a long, oval table, covered with a
dark red, laced table cloth. A golden statue of a fish sat in the center. Above the table was a huge chandelier with crystals that the sunlight coming through the large windows shone against. 

   "Does my jaw appear rather enlarged today, Derch?" Zephon asked the man standing over him who appeared to be his royal advisor. He had black hair gelled back and a long, neatly groomed beard that housed an abrupt streak of white.

   "No, my majesty." Derch swallowed what seemed to be a lump growing in his throat.

   "Of course he's not going to tell you the truth, he's afraid of you." Avanelle grunted. "You stupid whale!"

   "Can we continue back on subject before the insults become a habit?" Zephon went back to skimming his papers, paying little mind to the angry girl. "As if they already aren't."

   "Fuck you! I pray you suffer a long and dreadful death, and I'll be sure that I'm the one administering it." Avanelle grinded her teeth. Despite her hands being restrained behind her, she still curled them up into fists.

   The entire room gasped and the guards tensed, waiting for one order. One word that would most likely result in Avanelle's head rolling on the floor.

   Zephon didn't respond, instead he took a sip of what seemed like wine out of his chalice and passed one of the council members a piece of paper. "Review."

   Avanelle scoffed and sat up, keeping her eye on the king.

   "I would rather die than marry you." She spat.