The king stopped at a tree on top of a hill which he then, ah... sort of... stroked. Ximon let a hand trail down over his face. He'd expected an angry, suspicious, grief-ridden king. Complete lunacy was even worse than he'd feared. Who even knew what this man would do to the country, unhindered.
And Ximon had decided to throw his lot in with this idiot, instead of the fellow necromancer who caused this. Who was actually an islander.
But racial purity had never been important to him--for obvious reasons--and he'd respected Julianna Darkwillow. She'd done so well for the country, with so little prodding. He'd abandoned his plans for unseating the monarchy, because he'd just liked her that damn much.
And now this.
Now this... mess of a man, staring with love and longing at a tree and then turning to glare at him with anger and suspicion. Not that Ximon could blame him for the anger or the suspicion, really. He was a suspicious sort of fellow, suggesting suspicious sorts of things. And he'd been robbed of a decent segue into the most suspicious of them all, thanks to his royal highness, King Treefucker, running off like that.
"You miss her," he said bluntly. "We all do, of course, but not like you. No one could miss her more; no one could need her more. But others do need her, and that's why I'm offering this." Ximon let out a huff of air through his nose, unhappy with the way this conversation was going. "You were right. Bringing Elliot Wilder to justice, while satisfying, will ultimately accomplish nothing for the country besides keeping a treasonous bastard off the throne. What the kingdom needs is her. Meaning you no offense, your highness. And I can give the country--and you, and your family--what it needs to have back." He splayed the fingers of one hand against his chest. "Of course, I realize what I'm claiming and what I'm asking. I wouldn't ask you to trust me on a whim, or give me access to her royal highness' remains on a spur decision. But I beseech you to hear me out. Give me a chance. Get to know me, investigate my methods and motivations as much as you feel necessary. Whatever it takes," he added firmly, eyes a bit hard at this.
Because submitting honestly to any degree of scrutiny from this man would be both a huge risk and huge pain in his ass.
But he was going to bring the queen back.
And Ximon had decided to throw his lot in with this idiot, instead of the fellow necromancer who caused this. Who was actually an islander.
But racial purity had never been important to him--for obvious reasons--and he'd respected Julianna Darkwillow. She'd done so well for the country, with so little prodding. He'd abandoned his plans for unseating the monarchy, because he'd just liked her that damn much.
And now this.
Now this... mess of a man, staring with love and longing at a tree and then turning to glare at him with anger and suspicion. Not that Ximon could blame him for the anger or the suspicion, really. He was a suspicious sort of fellow, suggesting suspicious sorts of things. And he'd been robbed of a decent segue into the most suspicious of them all, thanks to his royal highness, King Treefucker, running off like that.
"You miss her," he said bluntly. "We all do, of course, but not like you. No one could miss her more; no one could need her more. But others do need her, and that's why I'm offering this." Ximon let out a huff of air through his nose, unhappy with the way this conversation was going. "You were right. Bringing Elliot Wilder to justice, while satisfying, will ultimately accomplish nothing for the country besides keeping a treasonous bastard off the throne. What the kingdom needs is her. Meaning you no offense, your highness. And I can give the country--and you, and your family--what it needs to have back." He splayed the fingers of one hand against his chest. "Of course, I realize what I'm claiming and what I'm asking. I wouldn't ask you to trust me on a whim, or give me access to her royal highness' remains on a spur decision. But I beseech you to hear me out. Give me a chance. Get to know me, investigate my methods and motivations as much as you feel necessary. Whatever it takes," he added firmly, eyes a bit hard at this.
Because submitting honestly to any degree of scrutiny from this man would be both a huge risk and huge pain in his ass.
But he was going to bring the queen back.
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Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 05-25-2017, 10:52 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 05-25-2017, 11:12 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 05-25-2017, 11:40 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 05-26-2017, 12:21 AM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 05-26-2017, 12:56 AM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 06-01-2017, 06:39 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 06-08-2017, 05:47 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 06-17-2017, 10:26 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 06-18-2017, 02:03 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 06-24-2017, 03:17 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 06-24-2017, 04:15 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 06-29-2017, 01:15 AM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 07-08-2017, 12:47 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 07-22-2017, 02:30 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 08-02-2017, 06:12 PM