The Purple Eyed Girl

42. The smell of disappointment

Footsteps approached slowly and the door creaked when it opened to a crack. It was enough to create a small beam of light in the otherwise dark room. I felt the cold marble floor beneath me as I continued to stare ahead to the bed covered in darkness. The bed I had found my father on. 

Fear reeked through the small opening and someone gulped before clearing their throat softly. "Excuse me Your Majesty, I didn't want to interrupt you but the Generals have called for an emergency meeting. They haven't seen you since-"

It was true. I had stayed in my father's room up until now. I hadn't slept or eaten, I didn't even drink anything and I didn't want to. I sat on the cold floor the whole night, still wearing my armor, and watched them move my father's body and take other evidence away. The new detective was handed the casefile and asked me some questions when I was finally able to say 'yes' or 'no'. When he and the team were done they said their condolences and left the room to me. I just sat, staring into nothing, getting more furious with every passing second.

Because even though I had no clue about which kingdom was responsible, one thing became very clear to me the longer I thought about it.

Jorden knew.

I yanked open the door and the young man behind it stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet. My bloodshot eyes eyed him up and down. It was the guard who had ratted me out to Valerio a while back.

"I have something more important to do."

"Shouldn't you-"

"No."

If one more person suggested I freshen up I was going to blow their fucking brains out.

I stepped out of the room, noticing guards were lined up along the halls. They saluted me and my eyes fell on the black armbands they were wearing, probably out of mourning for my father and the fallen guards. It felt strange seeing men who used to mock me now respect me like that. I guessed they didn't really have a choice in the matter and most likely wouldn't have done it if they had one. 

Continuing my way to the throne room across the courtyard, I noticed maids, guards and other humans who were already interrogated hurrying in and out of the room in order to get it ready for the coronation later today. Werewolves and vampires seemed to be absent this morning, waiting to be interrogated in their chambers, not allowed to leave them by the new detective.

Useless decorations such as garlands and banners with the kingdom's royal coat of arms, flower pieces and twinkling lights hung in the form of a crown, and other utter shit was displayed all around. The coat of arms was the only thing remotely worth looking at. The shield was black with a red and silver bend. In the middle a silver dragon was visible. Supporting the shield were two black dragons and on top of it a silver knight's helmet was present. Intertwining red and silver flames blazed around it. Beneath it the motto was written in Tengwar script.

Only a handful of people knew its meaning nowadays, the language was created thousands of centuries ago after all. Most people who had taken the time to learn it were long dead by now and hadn't taught it to their children as learning it was more of a hobby and not a kingdom wide requirement. Nevertheless I didn't need to use my powers to understand it because of one simple fact.

I was a Tolkien fan.

"In the blood of our enemies we shall bathe, indeed." I sighed.

It was a shame that with the beginning of the war, the creation of art completely imploded. And even though the walls went up and peace somewhat returned, art never did. Along with everything else, except for weapons and defenses, its development came to a halt. True artists like Tolkien, Taylor Swift and the Beatles had died long ago, and no new artists ever rose to try and leave their mark on the world. Humans simply had other priorities and turned into stiff, grey versions of themselves.