Honored was his name that night. He had devised a great military plan that gained his people more land...More glory to his name. Established that further in his record of dominance...In the years his people considered their mmost prominent. When defeat seemed imminent, he rose and defended them once again. The greatest? That was what they proclaimed in the streets during the parade that day. He had done such a remarkable job...Some even believed he was half-man and half-God. A descendant of Aries, perhaps? He hacked with his own sword from his great black mare of a horse. Hammered foes as if there was no one else upon the battlefield but him, though he was the King. He wasn't supposed to fight, let the legions do his bidding. However, the King had none of such and rushed into battle. If they were merits and honors to be given, he would have received if he wasn't King. It was his duty to do so. To give honor and merits for those brave souls. For those fortunate enough to come home, to them he owed his deepest graditutde and respect...His undying loyalty. But it was his name they called in the streets as he proceeded across the mode that designated his home. He was the first to walk through the gate, golden crown upon his head. Rubies of rich red and diamonds of blindling light glimmered brilliantly that day. As did the center, oblong, obsidian stone, whispered in folklore to be the heart of his soul. If that crown was adorned, it would be because he had fallen. Heart and soul gone. Such was not yet the case, however. He was clever and staved off death plenty of times. Led his army to victory, freed more slaves and endangered men. Then, he came home and was honored. He gave no speech, just waved his hand briefly from his horse. A smile here and there, but he was tired. War did not coincide with his sleep. In his mind, rest was for the weary and weak or men who wanted to be defeated. None were he, save for now weary. The sun sapped his energy, yet he continued onward in the parade, continued to hear that beating sound that was his name.Such a procession lasted the whole day, to him it seemed. Towards late afternoon, he was finally reunited with his Queen. Finally reunited with the beauty that was she, that was truly his soul. For if anything ever happened to her, he would turn colder then an ice storm and ravage anything that moved to his disliking. He loved her that much. Her touch warmed his soul and her love kept it warm while he was away...But it turned colder everyday in war until he could no longer take it. Until he became the beast that claimed lives without a moment's hesitation, all in anticipation of returning home to the loving arms of his Queen.That night, him and his Queen sat smiling at one another, eyes barely wavering from each others. They honored him at the feast, cheerd his name until the dining hall shook. Him and his queen were drunk with the finest wine, which seemed to entice their physical want for one another. The largest smile was upon his face after the Queen whispered in his ear, "Meet me upstairs." After she made her exit and her name was cheered, that smile that was upon his face quickly disappeared. She came.The queen was the love of his life, second in priority only to his country and people. No mortal was her equal, but this evil? Her sight caused death. She took away his breath as their eyes locked and he could not deny it.She was beautiful in her flowing white gown. Porcelain skin, hair a golden white...Her beauty brought him to his knees. She made him want to bow and kiss her feet. Her azure eyes mesmerized him, forcing the King to avert his gaze. What had she come for now? To celebrate his victory? He knew better then such, she was the bane of his existence.The crowd had already dissipated from the Great hall as he stood tall, eyes averted still. It was not until it was empty, that he looked once more. He had turned so cold. His hands became cold and his body shook as if it had never known warmth. His breath came out as a white smoke as if he was out standing in the cold. As if he was in the presence of a dragon. Yet fear didn't shake his heart, not nearly as much as hatred.She was so beautiful and she knew it. She walked to him slowly, white gown flowing by her ankles with each gentle sway of her steps. How could he resist? She smiled at him, parting pouty lips to show him pearly white teeth, he began to feel weak...Again. He had almost forgotten about his Queen, again...Just as he did the night when him and her first met.She finally came before him, smile having turned into a grin. "Have you missed me," she whispered, so seductively. It made him uncomfortable, especially the way her chest was now pressed against his. He was forced to turn away, tears in his eyes in hatred. "Have you not missed me, oh King," she questioned again, her hand having once more found his chest. "I feel your heart beat so warmly for me."He turned to her, eyes full of fury and disgust. "I have," he whispered vehemently, mind trying it's hardest to hold on to memories of his Queen. He could not lose, could not let her defeat him again with their dark secret."Dark," she questioned aloud. A laugh as she moved her hand away from his skin. "Your much darker then me, my King. And it'll always be our little secret, she'll never see it. You just have to give me...What I want from time to time."He closed his eyes as a single tear fell. This could not have been one of her times. He hated the sight of her for she made him hate himself. For the King had made only one transgression since he had been with his Queen. One offense that would always keep secret until he died. That one time...War lasted too long and he was too far from home. She found him and he didn't know...She was the enemy."Not now my king...Not now. You can have that poor woman you consider a Queen. But you know I am more pleasure then she could ever be." His eyes opened and soon came a frown. She was gone from sight once more. The only one who weaved him into a web, who had caught the King in her bed and ensnared him with her trap. He loved every moment of it, it was his darkest sin. So every now and again, he would get a visit from something who offered something he couldn't resist...The White Widow and her pouty lips.
Heavy Lies the Crown
R. $olo
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