Thursday, July 07, 2016

Loveless: Day 4

Word Count: 24,025

Summary of Events:
Le Démon went into Thérèse's room and got insulted when she called him Le Démon, she then kicked him in the face and ran off, leading him to pursue her before the shock of the kick stopped him. Thérèse was somewhat lost in the castle and discovered the ornate throne room and ballroom, before deciding to look for keys despite the threat of ghosts, until she heard a terrifying moaning and saw blood on the floor, then she fled to her room again. Le Démon, once he was feeling better, went to Thérèse's room and stroked a claw down her forearm in retribution for her kicking him. Thérèse, having used a knife from her meal and her skirts to make a bandage for her arm, got the idea that she should use her skirts to make a rope and escape the castle from a balcony she'd discovered near the ballroom. Évrard, frustrated in his searching for Thérèse, dreamed of his hoped future for them together, and the prestige he hoped to gain by killing Le Démon. Le Démon dreamed of the visit by the unwelcome visitor who'd ruined his life . . . 

Excerpt of the Day:
"Shortly after the servant had finished mopping the guard had returned. He'd startled indignantly.
"Has she gone away?" he'd demanded.
"No my liege, she insists upon having an audience with you," the guard had replied.
"On what business?" he'd snapped.
"I shall go see, my liege, she has not said," the guard had replied.
The guard had hurried away and the servant had scurried over to mop up the water before the guard returned and potentially slipped and fell on it.
In short order the guard returned, bowed, and doffed his hat. "My liege, she refused to divulge her business until she is in your presence."
"Tell her she must divulge her business or she shall not gain entrance!" he'd snapped.
The guard had left again, and the water had been mopped up for a third time. Everyone had waited for the guard to return, but he hadn't when suddenly the doors flew open with the sound of thunder, and he could've sworn he'd seen a flash of light head to either side of the room.
Standing in the doorway had been a woman, an old, haggard woman, in black rags. For having stood out in the rain for as long as she had, she hadn't looked like she'd been wet at all. He'd thought it rather confusing.
"You are not granted an audience!" he'd cried. "Guards! Evict her!"
None of the guards moved.
"I have an audience, and I shall not depart until it is completed," she'd replied in a voice that hadn't sounded terribly old, as she'd stepped into the room in complete and utter defiance of him.
"You cannot do this!" he'd shouted.
"No one can stop me," she'd said. "Not even you."
"Just watch me!" he'd shouted, surging to his feet and seizing his sword from the throne-mounted sheath.
She'd cackled and old, witchlike cackle. "You foolish, vain little boy."
"I am not a boy!" he'd snapped. "I am a man."
"No, you are only a boy," she'd said, smiling sinisterly.
Authoritatively striding down the stairs, he'd held his sword in front of his right shoulder and advanced with even stride.
"Because of your selfish vanity I've come," she'd said. "And I've come to fix the problem."
He'd stutter stepped for a moment. Vanity? If she wanted to talk to someone about vanity she should've gone talking to his sisters, they were vain.
"You have entered into the presence of the king's representative against the orders given by him," he'd said. "And you shall either leave now, or die."
"Oh vain one who seeks to slay me, it is others that shall be slain by thee!" she'd declared, a glowing white orb forming between her hands.
Suddenly it'd rushed toward him and he'd been knocked over. Then there'd been an explosively loud thunderclap, gasping, shrieking, and one piercing, bloodcurdling scream."

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