Just Desserts Part I
Royal greetings were always the same at the palace. The essential staff (Guards, and the royal servants that would attend to the guests in question during their stay.) Then of course, Then there’s the royal family.
Well, all of the ones that weren’t banished for treasons against their mother. These could range anywhere from slander around the court, and not telling her that you saw one of father’s special friends’ lurking around outside of his office when he worked one of his late nights in his office.
They were always the same type of women. The opposite of his wife. His special friends were always tall with long legs that helped them sprint far away rather quickly. They would have a head start on the Queen before she woke up to find her husband of almost thirty years with a grin she considered a little too happy.
The king seemed to have a smile even if he was told that drunk rebels set the Northern Woods on fire, and the quarterly inventory for firewood was down yet again. The poor awkward messenger dressed in a silk black outfit with shiny black dress shoes that twinkled in time with the floors. His outfit sagged in places where the royal tailor did not care enough to take the time to make sure the uniform fit the messenger properly. The queen did not heed the old earthen adage, “Don’t shoot the messenger.” She looked at the messenger with her cold sapphire eyes.
Her eyes used to sparkle with the young enthusiasm of a young ruler that wanted to evoke change in her kingdom, and make history. They were the dark blue color of a new day. The color of her eyes when they first met reminded her husband of the purple sunrise he saw every morning. Her eyes became darker with each case of infidelity over the past three decades.
This started the practice of whenever The king”slept in the office”. He woke up with a wide grin during the normally grim morning report. She stood up calmly her floor-length skirts dragged slowly behind her.
She stood at the window and looked out over the valley that she ruled. A small smile wormed its way across her round face before she raised her hand as if she were waving to one of her adoring subjects only to have a fireball come from her hand.
She released a few of them out into the open air. The Queen watched as they flew, and sought their target. Her eyes focused on the bright orange ball.
Only when she heard the faint echoes of a scream in her ears did she turn back to her husband, and smile. For a moment the purple hue of her eyes returned when he frowned. His face lost all color, and then she ate her breakfast. The day started on a high note for the Queen due to his discomfort.
“Is your breakfast cold, dear?” The Queen asked as she did every morning. Normally, the King would grumble about just having a rough night. After all, his girls liked it rough. The Queen was grateful for the thick stone walls of the castle. She didn’t have to hear their bedroom activities.
Today, though the King smiled as bacon perched on his fork. “I’m going to be a father again.” It was the Queen’s turn to go pale as she fell to the floor. The echo of her fork hitting the table rang throughout the large dining hall. The king ate his breakfast thankful for the peace and quiet.