AZRAEL
"Your Majesty, are you… alright?" Eros stares at me with his stoic expression longer than he usually does as I bask in the early morning sun outside, in my courtyard.
The scorching rays fall upon my skin; I imagine they would burn, considering the blaring heat and the bright light that should sear my eyes while staring directly into the sun.
It's been so long, so I can only imagine.
"What does it look like, Eros?" my voice is dull, annoyed.
"Your morning routine today has been off," he points out, despite the question being obviously rhetorical.
I scowl, though he has a point. My routine has been off.
The things I indulge in to keep myself entertained fell dull today; nothing seems to motivate me either, and worse of all, last night continues to haunt me.
I can't stop seeing her… that witch. Her body engraved in my mind like a brand on my skin.
Perhaps I should capture and torture her until she revealed her true intentions and tactics, but with how frail she is, she'd be dead before it got any good. The fun would be over.
I am heavily curious what new spell it is.
Being well-versed in witchcraft leaves me aware of every possible attack—a perk of my lifespan in many ways. I should know if I've been hexed… but it doesn't feel like I am.
"I'm just trying to figure a puzzle out—nothing serious. It proves difficult to wrap my mind around it, but I will soon enough. It will make bending it to my will all the more delicious."
No matter how complex, I always figure out a puzzle in the end. In fact, the more complicated, the more thrill I find.
This could potentially be the most fun I've had in years. I smirk, realizing all of this isn't technically a bad thing. All of it will eventually meet its bitter end.
"There's no point wasting my time thinking about an anomaly I'll kill sooner than later." I slowly rise from my chair, breathing in the dull air with a new outlook and excitement tingling in my bones.
I lick my lips slowly, imagining what new reaction she'd give me next, the fun ways I'd draw her closer to her eventual end, where she'd beg me to take her own life.
I can taste her terror, her fright. Delicious.
"Gather the prisoners from last month's rebellion," I order, needing an outlet for this new burst of energy.
Knowing what to do, the guards pull the men forward.
They had been waiting in the background after all—men who had planned an attack for months under cloaked shadows, sending messages through secret means before they were caught trying to usurp the throne.
Each of them is lined up a good distance away, bound by ropes, heads covered with sacks, each with a red apple roughly painted on.
The terrible artwork confirms that it's Eros's doing, but I'm too unbothered to reprimand him today.
I reach out my hand, and a bow and arrow are placed in my hands.
"What better way to sate my bad mood than to indulge in a hobby," I chuckle out loud, pulling the string with the first arrow now that everything is set.
The seven men shake and cower, sobbing quietly before the third falls to his knees, trembling with unconcealed fear and terror.
"Mercy, Your Majesty! MERCY!" he pleads desperately.
I let go, and the arrow sweeps through the air, piercing the painted apple and his head in the process, popping out through the back.
His body drops forward, lifeless. I whistle, pleased with my ever-accurate aim. What can't I do?
"The loudest ones are always the funniest to kill, don't you think?" I look toward Eros. He offers a stiff nod.
Now dead, the rest break into louder sobs, one of them soiling himself instantly—the flavor of their terror turning more delicious.
Once again, I pull the arrow, aiming for the next, about to let go until an idea pops into my head—one more brilliant than ever.
With my little mouse ever present in my mind, it's only fair I pay her back for her little treat last night.
It will also add an extra spice to today's game—an excellent way to kill two birds with one stone.
"Eros."
"Sire?"
"Where is that child?"