La Nova

XXXI

XXXI.

A cause for celebration was undeniably due. L'Illians love any excuse to throw a fete, and the coronation of a Nova and King in one day definitely gave reason.

And it was the first day of summer. The Revolution Ball.

Thierry had two weeks ago, wrung a promise from me to allow him to be my escort. And now, he would collect on that promise.

I trembled as I readied myself, donning the sheer silver dress Noel had constructed. It truly was marvelous; pure sin. It showed everything yet revealed nothing. It clung to every line of my skin, every curve of my body, with a line of emerald buttons down the back, begging to be either undone or ripped apart.

I left my hair loose and rippling in waves, hanging to my waist that night. I darkened my lips subtly with rouge, although I didn't really need it. I lined my eyes with kohl, and I spritzed the special parfume Gabriel and commissioned for me.

He came at dusk, the lamps blazing, the sounds of the night seductive.

And ah! How well he looked. Lust overwhelmed me as I regarded him, dressed in all black, opposite of me. He looked very much like a young and powerful god. A young and beautiful god.

"Eros," I greeted him, kissing his cheek. But then I paused. "No, not Eros. You look like the Lord of the Underworld tonight."

"Then Hades I am." He bowed, kissing my hand. "My Royal Midnight Star."

I laughed at that, as he escorted me to his carriage, which was now more familiar to me than my own. We rode to the palace, in a charged silence. I felt if he moved an inch, I would jump him. I desired him with such strength, I felt drugged. But not yet. That would come later.

We arrived together, and to my private amusement, the Ball simply stopped. I knew what they saw. Two ungodly beautiful creatures together. A public declaration. We were not enemies as half the realm thought; and mayhap not lovers, as the other half thought. But something altogether different.

Friends.

And then so much more.

I burned for him as we danced close, our bodies pressing against each other, desire tightening my loins. We drank deeply of wine laced with the famed Vuvisius flower, allowing it to drug out senses. The Revolution Ball was about love.

When Queen Drusilla had been captured during The Great War, by the King of Andalynd, held prisoner, King Tisen had fought for his Queen, mounting a desperate last attack on the Andneese. It was supposed to have been suicide, a head on attack that would surely decimate the army.

Aphroditus had taken pity on King Tisen. And with her help, they besieged the fortress where the evil King Maximillian kept her imprisoned.

It had been a joyous day, and what was forever known as the Battle of Drusilla, for it had won the entire war, forcing the Andneese to retreat back across the Bearing Channel, and into Andalynd.

The Revolution Ball, would forever be held in acknowledgement of that day when love above all else, had prevailed.

"How his shiny brow gleam'd,

As he fought against the masses.

How his gilded sword sing'd,

Onward to his belov'd.

Oh, the red blood Tisen spilt!

Tis was a war for greed,

Yet onward he kill'd.

Surging on his gallant steed."

And sitting there, across from Thierry at dinner, surrounded by those I had come to love, I rejoiced in it. Listening to the most famous poet in the realm, Didier le Drogue recite the epic poem, The War of Drusilla brought tears to my eyes. Ah! How I loved this land. How I loved my kin. I would gladly die to protect it, although I hoped I would never have to. But I would.