DESTRUCTIVE MYTH -
Zitex Beauties
“There is much to discuss, but now that my main man is back, we will celebrate first.” The king smiled tapping him on the back, Galaleiath groaned at the celebrating part it always involved a lot of drinking and much more woman than he was used to dealing with.
“My king, since the ball things have fallen behind, I need to address the men, the queen’s reinforcements march no doubt towards us. I must ready us for the battle, they need me to lead.”
“Yes, yes, there is much to discuss, but her armies are not here yet, and I didn’t get my ball to celebrate our victory of my castle still standing.” The king smiled a joyous skip in his step.
“Any excuse for festivities.” Galaleiath snorted
“Why not, I am king and everything should be celebrated, life is worth celebrating.”
“Indeed.”
The king stopped looking at Galaleiath’s after his morbid reply, “What happened down there with the spy, did you replace out how the queen cloaked him to be your double and why? My wizards have no answers.”
“No, he is not of a sound mind, I plan to interrogate further tomorrow or kill it. Either way, I will inform you of the outcome.”
“Kill it? Why not bribe it, pay double for it to spy for us on her in return?” The king asked starting down the passage again.
“It’s a lost cause my king, trust me.”
The king looked back watching his eyes harden, the determination on his face to drop the subject was not missed.
“Ok then, deal with it before this war starts up again.” At that, the king slowed to a halt again looking around him, but there was no one apart from them and his personal guard, a sad expression on his face as he stared off into the distance for a bit before he spoke.
“Dimas will win this war, you know the two kingdoms have been at war since before my reign, but this war is different,” He paused turning to look into Galaleiath’s eyes. “She has managed to replace every fault, every link missing in our armor, it has crippled us to a point where we can’t rebuild, she will win and we will perish there is no doubt.”
“Your majesty?” Galaleiath said quietly in question to the king, he knew why they were losing he had been the cause of it. Zitex had been the enemy since before he was taken in under Dimas’s wings and their plan had been simple; learn what the kingdom lacked, train to be who the king needed, and play the part.
For the past seven years, he had worked his way up from being her spy between his soldiers, making sure the king noticed everything he did, including his inhuman abilities in battle purposely allowing the king to replace out about his true elf identity, many had feared, the king had not cared.
Once news of him being an elf spread across the land many kingdoms had offered priceless treasures in exchange for the elf, but the Zitex king had seen his talent and heard his undying loyalty pledged to serve him and him alone. Based on the pledge and the power that came with it for having such a rare phenomenon under his command, Galaleiath had soon climbed the stairs to success in becoming the top-ranked general of his armies. With the title, it had hushed most of the kingdoms up, except a select few such as Avon and what the king assumed was now the new reason for the Black Maser’s consistent attacks.
Almost overnight he had become closer to the king than his many wives sharing his bed each night, he had pissed off a lot of people making his path clear to being the king's right-hand man and Dimas’s proudest achievement, just what they had wanted, a man rotting the source of power from inside out.
He had the keys to the kingdom and had let the Black Maser waltz right in, in exchange Dimas had promised Zitex to him, and Galaleiath had deemed the task a worthy mission he would succeed at.
In all his years of planning, he had spotted countless flaws, not including the kingdom's potential of being one of the top trading kingdoms, having miles of harvesting land, rich soil, thousands of powerful horses to breed, and of course the biggest iron mine he had ever seen. But the relaxed king had not used any of it to its full potential, more focused on reproducing royals than how things were done, just wanting his name to never die out.
Now looking into the king's troubled eyes, he should feel remorse, but didn’t.
He would soon be rid of the man and all the intolerable, spoilt, selfish, and gossiping royalty within these walls, perhaps he would spare a few of the king’s brides, he knew a hand full he would like by his side once he took the throne and rebuilt.
“I have never been able to read you, you know?” He smiled slightly turning to walk down the hall. Galaleiath said nothing as he fell into step behind him. “I know there is a lot to be done, but as your king, I demand celebrating,” He rotated his hips emphasizing the word, “Our days are numbered and I will not spend them wallowing in defeat, you missed my ball but we will have this.” The king stated all worries cast aside, the bounce in his carefree steps returning as they made their way down the passage till they reached two massive wooden doors engraved with vines and roses, framing enormous golden teardrop handles.
Galaleiath tensed, he hated and loved the room filled with the king's two hundred beautiful wives.
“You ready?” The king wiggled his eyebrows and, at that moment, Galaleiath wondered just how old the man was. He had handpicked all the women behind those doors throughout his years of reign from all across Relangathian, some had already aged, and had been kicked out to be servants in the kitchens or somewhere else out of his way, their wrinkles, as he said were displeasing. Others had taken their own lives wanting to be nothing less than forever young in the king’s eyes, while a select few were given to his friends as gifts once they had lost their charm to him. Still, he made sure to keep the numbers high attending auctions of exotic beauties and other means. The king had also managed to produce an odd ninety heirs over the years ranging from middle-aged in his council down to small things still sucking off their wet nurse.
Galaleiath had heard rumors of the king having used potions given by a witch that visited him every month, but no one had ever seen it happen, he himself had snuck around in the dead of night to catch the said witch, but had never even caught a glimpse. He had asked the king about it but had been denied an answer each time, to his estimation though, the king had to be around a hundred and twenty years of age, but he looked to be in his forties.
“After you, your majesty.” He dipped slightly stepping aside, it was one of the very few doors in the castle the king opened himself, he had often said it was like opening his own present every day.
The doors opened up and Galaleiath sucked in a breath, he knew what to expect having been in the room a few times before but it still blew his mind.
Tall stone pillars three floors high framed the room supporting a glass roof allowing the sun when it shone to spill a brilliant golden light into the place decorated with a massive fountain and trees. He didn’t see any of that though, it was hard to when all the king’s erotic women were awaiting inside.
Beauties in every shade of the rainbow lounged around the fountain reading or painting, while a few others sat in groups chatting and playing games, one could swear there was no war going on, no death or torment, just pure time and bliss.
“Ah my lovelies,” The king sighed observing the room, they stopped what they were doing with immediate effect standing in unison to greet him, Galaleiath noticed many great him excitedly while a select few smiled fakey. Oblivious to the hostility in some the king was swarmed with his many brides begging for his attention and he thrived on it laughing and enjoying the small flirts and chats.
Galaleiath stood back with the personal guard letting him have his time with the woman, there were rules when it came to his wives, some rules stricter than others. It didn’t matter if he had thousands of women, if the king did not offer them up or send one to your room, they were off-limits, even looking at them for long would have the king seeing red and the poor man in prison, if he was lucky. Some grouped together wearing certain colors such as golds and yellows representing their rank, his most popular picks for functions and pleasure. Then deep violets and purples being second in rank, being picked for when he tired slightly from the others, working its way through the colored groups. There were a few he had married for political purposes only, that never graced his personal chambers and dressed more conservatively, they were left to their own. He noticed one now towards the back named Ashleigh he found to be exceptionally beautiful always cloaked in grey and fur writing with her insufferable, stubborn lady in waiting close by.
He had never made an advance on any of the many wives, he had seen men he deemed irreplaceable to the king killed for being intimate without consent. These women were gifted with grace, beauty, and seduction and they knew it. Knew it well using it to their advantage, having many willing to catch the moon for them. He had almost slipped a few times as many had approached him begging for attention, love, a simple touch. Being a man, after all, it was practically impossible to ignore having a woman throw herself at him or sitting on his leg running her nails through his hair, it presented the problem of having the wrong head take control and his position ruined.
A small smile curved his lips at the thought, some of these women would relish being ruined by the positions he wanted them.
He had resisted though often catching the king watching him, especially the last time when two had danced around him the eve of the ball, they had been bold enough to beg him to take them privately saying the king would never know, he had known better than to falter despite his urges.
The women were trouble and they knew how to use it, he supposed larges groups of women like this waiting for one man could get rather boarding.
He nodded now in acknowledgment to a few he did know personally thanks to the king having gifted them to him on the odd occasion, they winked back blushing in appreciation. Galaleiath had learned the more he conquered for the king, the more the king presented him with one of them for a night, a night filled with such raw, rough, and long passion they had always left his room looking exhausted, fragile with deep rings under their eyes. He knew his kind had to be gentler with the humans but had never held back, they knew what he was, the animal he could become, and yet the woman had all but begged to be taken back again, and again.
Turning his gaze back to the corner where Ashleigh had been, he noticed her place the pen and papers down making her way to great the king, the handmaiden staying behind. He watched the cloaked lady in waiting till her eye caught him; stunning violet eyes locked with his in shock, he winked at her and was gifted with a confused look which was soon replaced with eyes almost lit with hateful fire as her brows dipped in rage.
Ah yes, this was his target, this insufferable servant of Ashleigh, miss Sinira.
She was not on the do-not-touch list and was one of the most striking women he had seen, her voice, the way she walked, and those ever-changing eyes had him believing she wasn’t all human, but he was never able to replace out what exactly she was.
Since the day Ashleigh had arrived at Zitex and he had been free enough to assist the new bride into the castle, he had bumped into her servant, Sinira and her haunting eyes had stared straight through him as if seeing through all the bull shit, she had looked at him so intensely till a small light of recognition crossed her face and she had pulled back in shock knowing his name.
Somehow, she had known him yet denied it to this day.
He hadn’t recognized her, had never even seen such exotic, almost wild features on such a perfect woman before. Galaleiath had almost forgotten where he was still the king had cleared his throat for him to present his new wife four years ago.
In those four years almost every single one of the king’s wives had thrown themselves at him including servants, even the kitchen staff; a section of the castle he stayed clear from at every chance he could, which involved taking trips that delayed him precious moments going around the building, he would not be cornered in there again.
In the years he had even gotten a stollen kiss from Ashleigh who had pretended to lose her footing and fall into his arms, she was one of the few wives he had raged internal wars with to resist.
But Sinira, she had been the only one he had ever truly wanted, and she had the perfect NO on her lips.
Galaleiath thrived for the chase, it made the capture all the more worth the wait, but getting Sinira’s attention had been tougher than any of the wars he had fought in. This stubborn woman, unreadable woman had him losing his wit most of the time. It wasn’t love, no defiantly not, he was sure the moment he could get his hands on her alone and out of his system he would be able to move on. But she hadn’t reacted to any of his tricks that had gotten gasps out of everyone a hundred percent of the time.
Sinira had hardly blinked when he had reviled his identity of being an elf, she had somehow seemed to have known. Everything he had tried, had not fazed her in the least. Her large sparkling eyes were walls he could not climb, could not break, and could not shake no matter the strategy. She thought him a heartless pig and though he had never laid a hand on her, the itch to touch her was beginning to make his standards of treating women seem more blurred than a solid line.
The recent run-in with his past locked down below was still haunting him, twisting something wicked and dark deeply buried within him that he would prefer to leave buried, perhaps going to the kitchen tonight might just work out all his rage.
Loud laughter had him pulling away from her eyes to see the king's head back and shoulders shaking, all the women around him joined in with giggles and joyous laughter, he had missed the joke and turned back to look where Sinira had been standing, she was gone.
“So, I see the devil was released.” A mocking voice whispered nearby.
“And you still somehow alive speaking so impolitely,” Galaleiath replied turning to see the little handmaiden belonging to Ashleigh.
“Someone has to look after my lady, especially against men like you.” She made a point in directing the words to him, “I see the way you look at her, she is not yours.”
“Sinira,” He sighed closing his eyes, exhausted by the endless battle between them, he had found it irresistible having to chase her make her want him, the way he wanted her. The other woman all but swooned when he returned the flirting, just not her. His new strategy had been pretending to have eyes on bedding Ashleigh, hoping it would stir jealousy in Sinira. It had backfired, Ashleigh had hardly blinked before sending him a private invitation to her chambers and Sinira had become more of a throne in his side than jealous.
“I had hoped you would be locked up for good.”
“You know I’m too valuable my sweet.” He faced her, having the king on his left side her raised his hidden hand to caress her cheek.
“Don’t touch me, I have warned you before.”
“You crave my touch.”
“Have I ever said so?”
“You don’t have to; your body says so.”
She groaned rolling her eyes at his comment looking back to her lady still busy chatting with the king. “Who was locked up with you, I heard at the ball a shadow was let in mimicking you.”
“Not your concern, I am dealing with it.”
“So, it’s true?”
“Not your concern.” He repeated hardening his face staring into her violet pools, she looked as if she was about to drop it then raised her chin narrowing her eyes.
“Fine, I will ask the guards, they will tell.” She snapped turning to leave him.
His arm shot out and caught her pulling her against him, then side-eyed the king still surrounded by his wives, not an eye on them, holding her one arm his our grabbed her hip pulling it tighter against him, his lips were inches from her ear hidden under her cloak, but through the material, he could feel her tense.
“Give me one night with you and I’ll answer all your questions.” He whispered
“I will not be another woman you use.”
“No, you could be my last.”
Sinira froze, he had flirted with her countless times but this time had been more forceful, more urgent.
“Release me before your cause a scene, I am not going to sleep with you Galaleiath, not now, not tonight, not ever. The sooner you realize your flirting with me will get you nowhere the better, stop wasting it on me you have an entire kingdom that will fall for you.”
He chuckled softly, a deep rich sound behind her that made her skin tingle.
“Fall for me? Are you saying I’m irresistible? Have you finally admitted to liking me?” He slid his hand up from her hip over her dress and she slapped it away spinning around to face him. They both paused to ensure no one was looking then back at each other.
“I am not blind, anyone can see you are handsome, but who you are inside is dangerous, dark, and not something I want in my life, now let me go.” She pulled her arm down with force hoping it would be released from his grip but he had anticipated it holding tighter, threatening to burse her. She watched as he took in her words, his eyes darkening as if she had struck a nerve, something old and painful crossed his eyes before being replaced with a smirk.
“Perhaps your perfect world needs a bit of darkness, after a while even the sun can become boring.” He released her slowly watching her back step till out of reach.
“Galaleiath, join me.” The king's voice traveled towards him, reluctantly he turned to face the king beckoning him. “I have made a selection, what do you think.” He puffed out his chest proudly as the crowd took a step back leaving a line of eight women barely covered in gold silks swaying their hips, licking their lips, and looking at him as if he was their selection for tonight.
Clearing his throat placing a smirk on his face, he stepped forward and took each one in as was required by the king, another rule to thoroughly admire without touching one presented, then turned to face his king bowing. “As always my king, a more perfect line up I could not pick.”
The eight-woman giggled excitedly then rushed forward to encircle the king leaving no personal space, pulling away from a kiss the king looked back at Galaleiath. “I know I don’t do this often enough, but I’m feeling extra generous,” He laughed hugging the woman, “Apart from those who deny you,” he winked knowing none did “You may pick any two for tonight.” He grinned turning with his golden brides to leave the room.
With that statement came gasps and inaudible whispers from the women left behind, as a new wave of excitement spreading across the room.
He swallowed standing tall; this was one of the many times in his life he loved being a man.
After what felt like hours, he had his shirt off and his pants button was screaming in protest, if one more woman rubbed his lower abdomen, it was a goner. Tipsy and pleased with his selection, the two-woman stuck to him like glue as they swayed through the castle towards his bedroom, he had nearly chosen Ashleigh just to piss Sinira off, but the look she had fixed on him had him turning to others. His second choices had Sinira seeming relieved, he wondered if perhaps picking Ashleigh would have brought jealousy out of her, he would test that theory out the next time he pleased the king.
Heading down the hall an oddly familiar feeling of unease started to settle in him, yet he couldn’t place it, looking down at the goddesses on each arm he felt like a king, fearless and confident yet as he neared his room his senses screamed something was wrong. But how could it be? The queen would have warned him if the attack was to start early, there was no need for alarm, he still had a couple of days by his calculations.
“My Lord?” One of the women questioned placing a delicate hand upon his broad chest looking up into his face with concern, “Is something wrong?”
He looked from where he had stopped before his bedroom door, down to the vision in purple looking up at him with an unrealistic fear of being rejected, they wanted him desperately, and his body theirs but something was amiss.
“No, nothing to trouble yourself with.” He said quietly unhooking his arm from one of the women, he pulled the door handle down opening his room slowly, it was dark with no candles and no fireplace lit.
Why had the servants not been to prepare his room? They knew it was his first night out of prison, surely, they were informed? He took a cautious step in focusing his senses on the room frowning at the unease till he caught sight of a shadow move swiftly to the open window, he froze as one of the women sucked in a scream.
“Till we meet again, brother.” Drathis saluted him.
Galaleiath stared in stunned silence at Drathis balancing on his haunches atop the open window ledge, he studied the man holding a sword he instantly recognized, but before he could draw his own Drathis smiled and free fell out the high window.
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