The Hated Kingship Pt.2Mature

“We believe it will benefit both of our kinds,” he said, finally finishing and swallowing thickly. He’d barely taken a breath for the entire speech. Silence fell around the court of vampires and other supernaturals, standing in aisles either side of Nicolae and the werewolf. Moisture on the industrial concrete hung in the air, and the odd, fidgeting footstep echoed loud enough for all to hear.

Nicolae sighed, knowing he was expected to be a leader at this point. He gracefully twisted his body around. The silver chains on his favourite jacket – a decoration purposely flaunted to all werewolves as a flagrant warning – shimmered, and his lips fell into a line as thin as a razor blade.

"Sir..." he said, trailing off expectantly, his voice solemn and melancholy,

"Ah, Jerome, my Lord." Nicolae cocked a light, groomed eyebrow, but hid his derision.

"Jerome," he said with a confirming nod, "...do you know what day it is today?"

Jerome was clearly surprised, his shiny face tightening and the hairs of his handlebar moustache prickling. "I - I'm sorry, sir?"

Nicolae sighed again, honestly, nobody's any fun. He stood, and like a bolt of electricity, the attendants and nobles surged towards the ground in a respectful bow, even his female companions, their leather corsets stressing and constricting them further, did not utter a word of complaint. He scanned his eyes over them all, the way they feared him, the way they would never cross him if their lives depended on it. It was all so...unoriginal.

"Today is Thursday, Jerome," he said with a disappointed sigh. "And do you know what that means?" Jerome just stood, his eyes bugging out, glimmering in the moonlight. It took Nicolae a moment to realise the reason for his hesitation, his fangs were showing.

Damn, he thought to himself. He had forgotten the protocol, to nearly every supernatural, the sight of his pinprick fangs protruding over his bottom lip was petrifying, and made negotiation particularly difficult. He ran his tongue over his gum, easing them back into place. Jerome breathed a deep sigh of relief, as if all would suddenly go his way. Nicolae smiled gently, not on my watch.

“I abhor Thursdays, Jerome,” said Nicolae sharply, his arms held formally behind his back, his red eyes shining moodily, “in short, I am really not in the mood for your shit.”

The werewolf’s eyes widened in horror, “m – my Lord? I was simply -,”

“I know exactly what you were asking. You and your mongrel peers have asked the same of me for over a year. You wish for me to relinquish control of the weapon, and allow you werewolves the ability to shift at the next full moon. Your appeals are truly endless, yet none of you seem to grasp the concept that I don’t want to.”

A chuckle came from within the audience, one that Nicolae knew intimately. Still, he was cautious. Elias, you fool, not here.

“I will hear no more of this,” he continued, striding towards Jerome, but walking past dismissively, sensing the man seize up as they crossed air. “If you continue to badger me with such preposterous requests, tell your superiors that the mercy I hold to your kind will become limited. Meeting adjourned.”

On his words, the court scattered like disturbed flies, ambling around wondering whether to follow him back to his quarters or not. Only one did, a vampire so irritating that his actions could almost be called majestic, and as he felt himself being tracked down the spiralling lane to the lower floors, he shook his head with disappointment at prior events.

Dogs, they never learn. 

The End

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