GAZING up at his throne, Lord Designs whispers in a giddy voice, “Soon… Soon it will all be mine! All that is precious, all of my dreams, everything… Soon!”
Upon the throne, lacking someone worthy enough to sit upon it, lies a red velvet cushion. A gold crown rests atop it. With a single red gem set in its center as its sole decoration, the crown shines with majestic gold sparkles and reflects the lamplight.
Lord Siegfried thrusts his hand out toward the red swaying light. “Soon. Soon, it’ll be mine: the kingship, the crown, the castle, the kingdom…all of it…all of it will be mine…”
Just then, he hears the piercing noise of glass cracking—or maybe it’s a young child screaming. Spinning around, he looks to where the third black magic item rests. The smallest, yet most intricately woven spider web supports the three orbs, one of which just broke. It loses its color, weakens, and disintegrates like ash. Or to be more exact, it turns into real ash and flutters through the air before melting away.
“Oh? OH, NOOOOO!”
Lord Designs’ face convulses; he tears at his hair. Yet that isn’t enough, so he claws at his temples and cheeks, then furiously drags his hand down to his chin. Without noticing that he’s ruining his precious beard, he rips it apart, scratching deep into his skin.
“I won’t let anyone get in my way…EVER!”
And then he sprints off. A gentleman of lordly status shoots down the corridors flinging his shoulder-length hair into utter disarray. The officers, private soldiers, and servants either look over their shoulders to gawk at him or avert their eyes from the bizarre spectacle and tremble in fear.
✦ ✦ ✦
His mad dash’s destination: Princess Lala Lilia’s room. Lord Designs reaches for the bunch of keys hanging from his belt with quivering, sweaty hands, fumbling.
“Which IS it? WHICH is IT? ARGH! Maddening lot of keys!” Scratches and gashes mar the keyhole as he shoves each inside before finally arriving at the correct key. The miserable keyhole looks as if someone tried to wrench it open with a small knife. “WHERE’S THE PRINCESS?!”
He throws the doors open, violently kicking down the modestly placed partitioning screen following it. Beyond the screen stands a frozen, frightened maid and seamstress…and Princess Lala Lilia. They were in the middle of retailoring her wedding dress; they’ve already been at it all night. Tiny blood vessels have filled the whites of the maid and seamstress’ eyes from the endeavor, and their fingers are covered in nicks and bruises. Recklessly rushing through needlework under swaying candlelight will do that to any experienced seamstress.
Princess had just stripped out of the dress and is standing there in a sleeveless, short-hemmed, white silk underdress. On her legs are white stockings sheerer than a butterfly’s wings. Decorating her feet are white shoes with glistening silver beads sewn tightly together, ending in a spiky heel unfit for a girl her age.
The maid hastily throws her arms open and stands between them. “You mustn’t! Please withdraw from the room,” she flatly demands, her voice trembling. “Her Majesty is in the middle of changing.”
“Move!” Lord Designs’ balls his hand and swings. His hard punch smashes into the maid’s face, sending her sprawling with a yelp. “Come with me, Princess.”
He rudely crosses over into the inner room and seizes hold of Princess’ wrist.
“NO! Lemme go!”
From the ground, the maid grabs the ankle of the man who is forcefully dragging away a protesting Princess. “You…mustn’t… At least…let her be dressed…”
“Damn pestilence!”
Lord Designs has completely lost it. He lifts his leg violently and madly stomps on the maid’s body, face, and hands, trampling her underfoot without listening to her feeble screams.
“DON’T get in MY way! DON’T DEFY ME! You’ve just been demoted to kitchen maid, wench! Run to the kitchens and live the rest of your life on your hands and knees on oil-stained floors, good-for-nothing leech!”
“STOP IT!” Princess shouts. Sending her loose, wavy red-hair flying in her white, airy underdress, she stomps her feet. “I’ll go with you. So don’t kick them anymore,” she commands.
Lord Designs awkwardly swings his head back to ogle Princess. His eyes are that of a man staring at his impassioned dream; though there are many night it is actually his nightmare. His eyes devour her, drilling a hole through her.
“OOH! OOOH! My princess! You will come with me?” His mouth widens into a complacent smile, his lips raising until all his gums are revealed, so that it almost splits his face in two. “Good girl. Good, good girl. Off we go then. Why don’t we go straight to the throne room? You just can’t wait for the wedding ceremony, can you? Ooh, adorable princess…”