Killer Mood Swings

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•E/C: Eye Color

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Your POV:
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My black flats tap softly against the floor as I make my way through the halls after having finished sweeping the dining room, on my way to my next task. I stop, however, when I spot the King up ahead standing in the middle of the long hallway, glare fixated on one of the portraits hanging on the wall. Sleeping at his feet is Weston, whose giant head rests upon his massive paws. I imagine he's been standing there awhile if the white beast is taking a nap, and he seems to be out of it too. He didn't appear to notice me, so I try to step lightly behind him, keeping close to the wall to avoid him. I don't want to interrupt whatever he's thinking about; it might make him angry.

"Halt," he orders in a firm voice without looking away from the artwork surrounded by a golden frame. Heart thumping nervously, I stop, while Weston peeks his eyes open after hearing his master's voice before yawning. After spotting me, the lion gets to his feet excitedly before approaching to rub against my body. With a slight smile, I pat his head to show I acknowledge his presence, and he sits beside me. I go back to my neutral expression when I catch the King staring at me from over his shoulder with an unreadable look, his olive orbs glazed with tears as though he had cried earlier. This made me worry, but I said nothing about it.

"I see that Weston has taken quite a liking to you," he notes in a quiet voice. He didn't sound upset about that, though, not thrilled either. Still, it was better than him being mad.

"I suppose so," I respond in an equally soft voice.

"I find it so strange. Up until you arrived, I've been the only person Weston ever got along with, the only person he'd ever listen to," he mentions whilst facing me fully. I grow tense as his majesty comes closer at a sluggish pace to take my chin into his black, gloves hand, forcing me to keep eye contact. My bottom lip quivers as he leans in close enough for his warm, minty breath to fan on my face, and by a bit, his grip tightens. "What is it that makes you so different, farm girl?"

"I-I don't know, y-your majesty," I mutter in a pained voice, which makes the man ease up on the pressure. "I-I've spent my whole life caring for farm animals, so that might have something to do with it," I answer, truthfully, doing my best not to stutter too much. He hums, knowing that made sense, before releasing me. I had no idea I was holding my breath until he stepped away. I lightly rub where he held my face as he turns back around to face the painting.

"You know, when I became king, I ordered that every picture of my father in this castle was to be destroyed. What do you see in this picture?" I gaze up at the amazingly detailed portrait of the King's late father, Midas, who had been named after that old tale of the king who turned anything to gold with a single touch, and the late Queen Leah. Between them stood King Noah, back when he was just a prince of about fourteen. No smiles adorn their faces, but beautiful crowns sit atop their heads and expensive clothes drape their figures. I note that the crown on King Midas' head is the same Noah wore now, while in the picture, the blue-haired boy had worn a more simplistic and smaller crown made only of gold with no jewels. I bring my attention back to the King, who patiently awaits my answer, though, I hesitate to speak.

"T-The previous king, your majesty."

"Exactly!" Infuriated, he draws his sword from the sheath attached to his hip before using the blade to slice the portrait to bits. My eyes grow wide in shock as he continues to damage the painting with flames of hatred ablaze in his eyes. He did not stop, even when it fell from the wall in shreds, and radiated an aura so murderous, it suffocated the air around him. Even Weston seemed frightened, for he had quickly hid behind my shaking form for protection. King Noah pants to catch his breath after tiring himself out and pushes his blue hair back into place, so that the wavy strands would not hang in front of his face, before turning to me.

Eyes glowing with rage, he approaches me with the tip of his sword nearly scraping against the floor in a menacing fashion. I back up in fear, being careful not to step over Weston, who cowers away, in the process. As soon as my back hits the wall, his sword lodges into it, right beside my head. A short scream flees from my mouth, followed by heavy, panicked breaths, as I turn my head away from the blade and squeeze my E/C eyes shut. A smirk tugs at the King's glossy lips at the sight of my terror as he grips my jaw in his free hand with a crushing grip. No doubt he could feel me trembling in his hold as I dare to peak one eye open.

"There it is. That's what I like to see," he spoke softly whilst rubbing soft circles on my cheek using the pad of his thumb. The conflicting action and the closeness of his majesty's face to mine involuntary brought heat to my cheeks, regardless of the tense situation. I imagine he performed the act out of lingering rage and that he was not truly angry at me personally, but still, that doesn't mean he won't lop off my head at the drop of a hat. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when an armored man enters the hall; a guard, perhaps?

"Your majesty?" His voice was firm, yet soft and somewhat hesitant, after seeing the position we were in.

"This had better be good," the King growls in response, shooting the man a deadly glare that would leave anyone shaking in their boots. He did not wish to be interrupted, clearly, but I, on the other hand, was more than grateful to be given a break from his highness' powerful stare. The older male clears his throat before replying.

"My apologies for the intrusion, but all of the suitresses have arrived and are awaiting your audience, your majesty." Slightly, his voice wavered, but otherwise, he kept himself in check while keeping his gaze low respectfully. I felt a little taken aback at the mention of suitresses, instantly feeling pity for the poor soul who'll have to end up marrying him. King Noah may be handsome, but is unhinged. One slight mistake and he will be tempted to outright kill them.

I can't imagine anyone surviving through that sort of relationship with him. Scoffing and scowling, the King dislodges his sword from the wall with minimal effort before stepping away from me. My legs, feeling like weak pudding, buckle and send me falling to my knees in relief as I hold a hand over my frantic heart. Thankfully, his back now faces me as he brings his full attention to the blonde in armor.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" King Noah questions in a calm, yet venomous, tone. The man bows his head low in apology, while I send him a look, warning him not to test his majesty right now. The result may be dangerous.

"Forgive me, your majesty." The King is silent for a moment, but the man dared not raise his head without permission, not allowing him to see the sly grin that tugged at his majesty's lips. A sharp tingle shot down my spine at the sight of it as my blood ran cold.

"I understand. You were only doing your job," he says in an unusually lighthearted tone as he walks past the man, looking as though he was about to take his leave... but we both knew better. There was something far more sinister laced within his words. The blue-haired monarch stops and turns his head to gaze at me from over the armored man's shoulder, still bearing that unsettling grin. "You know, I think Weston might be feeling a bit hungry. Perhaps he should have a treat? I'm sure he'd like that. Don't you agree, farm girl?" Instantly, I felt ill.

Treat.

That word would forever haunt me. It's a constant reminder of how I had unknowingly sent a man to his death. The ruler snaps his fingers at Weston before pointing at the man, whose eyes widen as he perks up his head in panic. Within a moment, Weston's attitude changed from that of a tamed beast to a bloodthirsty monster before he releases a menacing growl and pounces on the guard. I shriek and jump back, colliding with the wall behind me, while I watch in horror as the lion somehow manages to tear through the man's armor with his massive paws and teeth, listening as cries and screams of pain fill the halls.

The guard shoves him off successfully after a few minutes of tussling on the floor with the beast before reaching for the hilt of his sword, only to have the weapon kicked from his hand a moment later. The King towers over the blonde with a murderous glare whilst stepping on the man's wrist, creating a god awful crunching noise that makes the guard seethe in pain.

"Accept your death; be a man." He gives a smirk before stepping off, leaving his pet to take care of the rest, and coming to me. I push back into the wall, watching as the guard gets mauled to death behind the King, as his majesty crouches down to my seated level to meet my fear-stricken eyes. Blood. There's so much blood, I might just be sick. My attention is forced to his olive optics when two fingers are placed underneath my chin, and I am shocked by the presence of a more gentler smile, rather than an insane smirk, though, I doubt it was genuine.

"Ah, would you look at that? It seems I'm in need of a new escort. Care to do the honors, then, farm girl?" I had little say on the matter, for I was pulled to my feet by my wrist a moment later by his gloved hand. I stumble over my feet and nearly crash into him, but luckily, I find my balance before that can happen. The King forces me to walk past the murder scene, in the direction of the throne room, though, my watery eyes linger on the, still screaming, figure on the floor. It won't be long before these halls are filled with silence once more.

'Not again.'

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