Bride Of Death: Subversion

Chapter 3

"Me miserable! Which way shall I fly Infinite wrath and infinite despair? To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven."_Paradise Lost, Milton.

PALACE OF ASGARD
PRESENT

Agitation and despair seemed to fill the gigantic hall with its columns of spherical marble pillars, the walls edged with its glimmery golden touch, drapes of dark heavy velvet covered the ostentatiously large windows, blocking out the bright cheery sunlight. The ceiling was covered in exquisite artwork, its muted colors stimulating with the rows of chandeliers hanging in perfect synchrony. 

The hall seemed to be crowded, its inhabitants weary and worried, there was an incessant buzz of flowing hushed conversations, the whispers had an essence of fear and trouble. 

The atmosphere tense, the weather inside the hall gloomy with its suspended melancholy, the people awaiting something, perhaps a reaction, though not completely sure of its volatile outcome. 

The hall opened with a set of rich mahogany double doors with its emblem of "LR", traversing the length of the hall among the cluster of pillars and occasional sofas in Nobilis velvet, the walls lined with famous renaissance and regency Art pieces, a long rich black colored carpet ran its course till the head of the hall, climbing up a small set of narrow stairs, and ending at the foot of a huge, gilded, and richly embroidered throne with its layers of the lavish sprinkling of the mother of pearls, diamonds and finely cut sapphires, the thin rays of sunlight escaping through the heavy windows cutting over it, creating a glistening aura of ethereal extravagance.

However, the muted hushed whispers were put to rest as the guards with their deep black costume snapped their thick long staff across the metal hanging on the wall. The doors were rushed opened, a long dark figure with his billowing grey robes, finely embroidered with black silk threads, his face held a mask of centuries-old trauma and grief, marched out followed by several people following him at his heels, all of them professionally dressed in dark suits, their polished leather shoes rushing after the man. 

The hall fell silent, the rush of a dozen men hurrying towards the throne only seemed to excite and agitate the crowd, their eyes meeting in silent terror, their hands turning cold in fear of the outcome. 

The man at the head of the group was very tall, almost gigantic in his stature, his body seemed lean yet finely sculpted through the layers of grey silk, his black hair was straight and long, hanging past his shoulders in thick waves, his face, almost an ashy white, dark blue eyes lined with worry, thin lips pressed into a line, his hands fisted at his side as he marched up to the throne, his eyes looked like that of a hawk, assessing every face and gesture with a subdued glare as he swept down on the throne. 

A thin dark man stood beside the narrow steps leading up to the throne, his black beady eyes roaming around the hall, his hands behind his back as he stood to attention, his posture tense. 

The man cleared his throat. The sound echoed across the hall, alerting every man and woman to his presence.

"His Majesty and the Royal Council is very much glad for the cooperation shown by our fellow-subjects, especially in perilous times like these."- He stood still for a moment before continuing, "We are deeply grieved while informing such dreaded news."

The hall stood in a pin drop silence, the royal council surrounding the foot of the steps leading to the throne assessing each and every little twinge, an image of controlled unsurmountable power, exuding from deep inside them.

"Our Queen, Her Majesty has been missing for the past couple of days as everyone is aware of...her sudden abduction has caused deep grief in all of our hearts. As we all know that the palace is tightly secured, so its quite impossible for her majesty to be forcefully taken from inside and that leaves a grey area."-the dark man commented, his voice steady, his words properly articulated.

"- And that is very simple, she must have gone out willingly."- the sentence caused a sudden rush of muted conversations, the whispers harsh and unsavory, eyes wide and unblinking.

The dark man cleared his throat causing the crowd to fall silent.

"Willingly with someone she already knew, someone she trusted to take care of her, and perhaps not betray her and yet she was... well, betrayed. So the fiend is someone she knew, personally, We knew, So it could well be one among you."

The sentence created a sudden uproar among the crowd who felt disgruntled and dissatisfied, the dark fear of treason clouding their minds, and the shocking onslaught of persecution created restless havoc. 

"We are hereby not really pleased to inform you that according to the wishes of our Majesty, all of the present people, man and woman are thus arrested to be questioned by the royal police, if innocent, you must fear not, for no one is going to be judged unjustly."- The man continued on, his ears ringing with the distorted cries of the crowd, his eyes calmly scrutinizing over the crowd and its antics. 

"However if guilty, one must confess as soon as possible to limit his punishment. And may the people present here not at all worry over the queen, we will surely find her soon and her testimony will change the course of how the royal palace has been running till now."

The king stood up from his throne, his hands clenched, his eyes turning dark as a forthcoming tempest, as he surveyed the crowd, his lips twitching in a sinister grin. 

"It was a pleasure meeting all my trusted friends and subjects."- his deep voice grumbled out, the baritone smooth and velvety, a dark fiery passion burning behind each of his utterances.

The council stepped forward, circling around the king as he rushed down the steps, his leather shoes marching back, the crowd dispersing the royal clutter if men moved forward. The back door opened causing everyone to look at the direction, a string of twenty or so men arrived, the royal police it seemed with their blue and gold uniform. 

Cries for mercy streaked across the hall, People were frightened and rightfully so, the royal police was definitely not known for their peace abiding and soft behavior. The horrendous torture was about to begin. 

The king along with the council paid no mind to the screaming and shouts for plea as they moved forwards, their posture straight and rigid. The only thing that played in the king's mind was vengeance. 

He was thirsty for revenge, and he knows exactly how to extract it, it was surely not the first time for him, such scenes as these, he was not a king because his father was one, he was a king because he fought and maimed and killed and butchered for it, he had spent his entire existence trying to reach for her and when he finally did, she was brutally taken from him. 

He was Lucifer, Lord of the World now and surely would not let anyone take away his Queen.

He was Death himself and it amused him somewhat to know that some puny being had dared to cross him. He had changed the world, brought on the plague, created a new system of governance, defeated God himself, he was not going to lose this time around. 

The fight for his queen had been long, arduous, and hard, and he will surely create hell on earth if she is taken away from him. Again and Again.

This time it would be chaos. 

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