The Rites of Malice: Ceremonials (An Aardwulf Tale)

Chapter 11

Just quick before you read!

 I've changed the Cast  a little bit, purely because I think Natalie Dormer is a bit young to be The Royal's mother, so instead I've made her Ambrosia (Alistair's twin).

Secondly I've made Jessalyn Gilsig, as the Royal's Mother, she fits the part perfectly! (and because she's  my favourite actress from the series Vikings (she plays Siggy)!)

Her picture is above, or to the side depending on what you are reading from :)

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"I couldn't forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, [Tom and Daisy] - they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together and let other people clean up the mess they had made [...] - Nick Carroway, The Great Gatsby.

***

Denial.

Denial was life's only 'get out of jail free card'.

Denial meant foregoing the painful truth of admission in favour of a sugar-coated lie. It was the best form of defence: against others and against oneself.

 I was in denial now.

In denial about this whole situation, about the words that had just come out of His Majesty's mouth; and the fact that my mind was somehow rationalising what he was saying. It was like a listening to a broken record, or saying a word over and over again until it lost its meaning - my mind was on a continuous cycle of Play. Stop. Rewind. Repeat.

Mate.

Mate.

Mate.

I was in denial, on the verge of a panic attack and I had no inkling on what I should do - so I did the only thing I could... I laughed. Laughed like a manic doll in a mental asylum. Laughed, while sporadic hot liquid tears fell from my eyes -whether from the sheer irony of it all or because I'd lost all hope now, I didn't know - I just marvelled at this madness, at being disarmed at every turn with no opportunity for counterattack.

I laughed because I couldn't admit the truth. I didn't want to.

I wanted someone to lie to me, to tell me that what His Majesty had said could not possibly be true, that the honesty in his loss of composure was a simple lapse in judgement, an earnest mistake. Hell I even wanted it to be a practical joke, something to entertain the Royals.

I staggered backwards slightly, still laughing bitterly, while His Majesty just stood there, a familiar rage I'd seen in Dominic, now present on his face.

Maybe they weren't that dissimilar after all.

Maybe he just saved our lives for the same reason Dominic wanted to end them: entertainment.

I stopped laughing and looked at the familiar sight of yet another seething Royal in front of me. His muscles were taught, his eyes consumed with that of his wolf's, his mouth vibrating with a low snarl and his body was entitled. He knew his place, his royalty, and if I didn't submit, didn't lower my head and concede, he would show me mine.

Just like Dominic, He would force our disgrace down my throat, remind me that we were the lowest, that we were worth nothing.

In that split second when he lost his composure, he showed his true nature.