The First Queen

31 - Dazzling Smile

The Poet and the group of protestors she had gathered pumped their fists in the air and howled out their disapproval of Remiel's new reign.

"Would you rather bend the knee to a queen or to a dead man!?" She shouted, leaping down from the fountain and pointing her fingers at various spectators, "You can aim your pitchforks at Lady Elia for eternity but with Prince Remiel in power, you'll have them aimed at your own throats!"up

Remiel bristled beside me, seething with a rage I have never seen in my usually collected and passive-aggressive once-dead-half-brother. He stepped forward to the front of the crowd and narrowed his eyes at The Poet before turning to face the spectators with a saccharine and not genuine smile.

"People! I assure you, the words of the world-renowned Poet are simply that; words! It's spectacular the things a bard can conjure up with their tongue! Truly a brilliant show!" He chuckled, dancing around the plaza to assure the crowd before slinging an arm over the shoulders of a rather displeased Poet.

She burst out of his grip easily and languidly, like slinking out of the strong grip of people was muscle memory for her... Which is maybe something to worry about...

"Do not listen to the lies fed to you by mindless zombies! Remiel, you come here, blighting our protest with your sultry voice and devil-may-care hair and dazzling smile but for someone with their eyes set on someone else, it is easy to see you for the ersatz humbug that you are!" The Poet hollered, gaining a few nods from the crowd.

Remiel's frown said it all.

"That's rich coming from you, Lyfelde," Remiel hissed, his words dripping with venom and The Poet gazed at him in dismay, "You're a teenage runaway who survives purely on using your 'sultry voice, your untroubled hairdo and your dazzling smile' to woo the foolhardy people."

The Poet let out a growl that matched the face Remiel had pulled mere moments ago, but now he looked as smug as ever.

"...You're The Butchered Prince. I repeat: 'The Butchered Prince'. Where in that sentence has the word 'king'? Hmm? Nowhere! Because you are no king! You dally with the courtesans and speak of nothing but yourself, which isn't very interesting, might I add?" The Poet chuckled bitterly.

Remiel stepped up to The Poet, standing only an inch or two taller than her and eyeing her down, "Why don't you run along back to Damara, hmm?"

In one quick motion, The Poet snatched the rapier from her hip and pressed the razor tip to Remiel's neck and the spectators all hushed in rapt attention.

"I may not know how to use this properly but I have seen enough people using swords that I know how to make someone bleed with it!" The Poet growled, baring her teeth and forcing Remiel to back away.

This isn't going to end well...

"Let him go!' I yelled, pushing past the people in front of me and marching right up to The Poet as she rolled her eyes.

"Thank you for stepping in, Sister... But there was no need to do so." Remiel hissed, waving a hand and suddenly, two of Lucio's brawniest guards burst through an alleyway and immediately shut the protest down.

They stomped up to The Poet and seized her by the elbows and shoulders, grappling her and forcefully yanking her away from Remiel. Her rapier clattered to the ground and she struggled in the guards' grasp, kicking and thrashing and yelling but to no avail.

"Please, People of Azumond, go about your day! Allow the court to handle this naysayer and her sycophants!" Remiel called out to the crowd before turning to me with sympathetic eyes and lowering his voice by a few octaves, "I apologise for my outburst, Elia... I try not to get angry but The Poet and I have been at each other's throats since we were teenagers."