Diary or the Dead

A Lamb For The King

The festive preparation had started early in the morning. As Dew woke up the sound of busy steps already announced the excitement building up inside the castle. While he quickly put on a set of new clothes, Avery didn't bother to move a muscle and continued to doze in an unbothered manner. The other let him. The hybrid had come back late, perhaps close to midnight or even after midnight and Dew had only noticed the door opening and closing while half asleep. Dew was unsurprised as he entered the kitchen and noticed he was the last to arrive; even Shawn was there and he had just returned last night. The man, who had the characteristics of a tame bear, immediately took him under his care and told him what had to be done the same way he had done it more than three years ago. From time to time other people would enter. People bringing goods.. The dirty apron made them identifiable as being part of the common kitchen for both servants and knights who resided on the king's property. Today they would have to give it their all to create meals for people with standards, at least Frederick phrased it that way. In Dew's opinion the food wasn't all that bad, maybe a little too mushy for his liking and bland, but still edible. Perhaps he just didn't have standards, he had eaten raw fish and everything else that wouldn't immediately kill him during his whole childhood. A gray mystery sludge was almost a delicacy. Then there were some tidy important looking men shouting wishes and commands. Dew guessed they were either advisors of lower rank or other higher servants who were in charge of organizing the event.

He took a pan out of the oven and cut into the roasted piece of lamb swimming in its own boiling fluids and leaves of thyme that used to be scattered across its surface. Something about that image had always created some unexplainable kind of tension in him. Yet he wouldn't hesitate to work with it, it was a personal request by the king after all and who was he to refuse anything that man said? Why would he question any action of the king who ruled over a whole kingdom, the person said to be crowned by a goddess? He thought about the gravestone and Frederick's mockery. The pot with the white tulips was now standing on Dew's desk even though he wasn't the type to take care of such petite flowers. But Avery took quite a liking in them.

Out of nowhere he was being pulled to the side by an apathetic looking woman who he knew managed most organizational tasks. Even though she did her job well, Dew couldn't understand how a mere mortal could spend more than twenty minutes in her presence without wanting to throw oneself out of a window. It was a miracle Shawn had married this woman eight years ago and not only did he keep his head clear, he also raised two children with her who were now adults and living by the shore of Bota.

"We need more people to get all those plates and the other trash forth and back between here and the feasting hall in time or it'll end up like last time. We don't want that, right?" she began to explain. Next to Dew stood Charles and Tiana, the latter leaning towards him to whisper: "They were twenty minutes late with the main course." "We are in a shortage of servants right now and sadly you are the only decent replacements in this unit. Don't wait around, don't speak to the guests. It's best if they don't even notice you're there and if anyone asks for any special wishes you just keep walking," the organizer continued. Charles was almost dozing off next to him as she finished her instructions and let them continue their work.

When the time came that the formalities were said to be done and the guests began to fill the hall below the fundament of the castle Shawn pressed a plate into his hands and sent him down. He had barely ever been in the large underground hall, maybe two or three times. The stairs the servants had to take were narrow and had them end up in the very back of the hall. As soon as he got closer to the location he could smell what was associated with a well done feast: alcohol, lots of food, sweat. He took a deep breath and descended, knowing he could go about three minutes before having to consume the terrible used air that could barely even leave the hall, there were no windows after all. Even though it was underground, everything was well lit with chandeliers and torches burning on the wall just well enough to see clearly. The ground was made of raw uncovered stone with the exception of a dark blue carpet leading from the large front entrance towards a podium close to the very back. It would take around twenty seconds to cross it. Sadly the four rows of tables were just as long as the carpet and they were almost fully stocked with people, mostly well fed men in fine suits and few women of similar complexion, who were chattering and laughing as if they weren't breathing this poisonous air. It wouldn't take long until it would shift to being a drunken howling and cheering where no one could understand the word of the other and at least ten visitors who had taken too much of a liking to the wine cellar had to be carried outside to get them sobered up. Dew already hated the thought of it and he had just placed the first plate out of many on the table closest to the saving exit. While leaving he could risk a glance at the podium. There were about six chairs, no, thrones, placed side by side in front of a fitting banquet. Five of the seats were taken. The first two people he recognized: The king himself had taken his place in the middle, his golden crown sitting perfectly on his silver wavy hair. Rings glistened on his fingers, his suit was neat and hid his weakly figure but his sunken face spoke of age. On his right sat his daughter who was wearing a crown as well, yet hers was a lot smaller and only had one gemstone placed in its center. She looked exactly like the portrait in the corridor with the large windows and memorable carpet but at that moment she didn't wear that stiff and almost sad face but instead smiled and laughed while chatting with the boy next to her. He didn't look familiar to Dew but it was easy to assume by his expensive attire and his white skin that it was the prince of Havn. The royal children looked like they were around the same age which must be younger than himself by a little. On the king's other side a man with a white wig and artistically styled curls was bent over his plate. He was accompanied by a graceful woman who, just like him, looked to be around fifty years old. The king and queen of the adjacent kingdom looked pretty much how he expected but less inhumane than all the kings he had seen depicted before. Maybe it was because they were fully human and had a genuine smile on their lips while talking with Rufus the second who looked as if he wanted to die earlier than his age would let him and his eyes drifted off into the same direction by the door over and over again.