The Hybrid Princess

O, ❝ The Barren King ❞

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A crow pierced its black claws into the golden marble window sill. He sat near a throne made out of stone, sculpted like the overlapping feathers of an angel. Its edges sharper than a blade covered in a translucent white coat of magic. A metallic scent lingered, laced with the sweet and musky floral aromas of spring.
       Wild flowers grew all over the window sills, bringing color into the throne room. Boring and patternless drapes hung next to the windows with embroidered golden crosses.
       The Barren King slouched on his throne.
       His amber eyes were swollen and wrinkled from the curse of time. He sat with his chin resting on the knuckles of his fist. His right arm dangled over the arm of his throne, moving with every deep and shallow exhale. The King's silver hair beaming under the blazing sun.
       Angels and dragons soared above the skylight.
       The tall and white ornate doors swung open. They were over 10 feet tall and 15 feet wide, in accommodation to the larger angels such as Seraphims and Cherubs.
       Angels in their purest forms were large, almost animalistic, yet strange and otherworldly in the eyes of a mortal. Those of a higher status could not fathom why humans would cower in their presence, but their slew of eyes made them feel naked in the presence of something so holy...and so terrifying.
       Their wings would enshroud around their fragile bodies, watching as they sweat from the heat and their fear.
       Two mortal women entered the room with winged guards at their sides. The doors shut as they halted before the King. One of the women jumped at the abrasive sound while the other stood tall with her gift for the king.
       The older woman carried herself in a manner that only a mother ever could. She stalked every man in the room, preparing herself for the worst. She kept her daughter close. The mother's plum pigmented gown made of satin, flowed freely with the soft gusts of wind. Her rich violet eyes were weighed down from the years of maternal sacrifice.
       "Lady Belladonna of Earth, Your Majesty," the winged guard announced.
       The younger woman's appearance made her look youthful but brittle. The arch of her thin brows gave her a cruel resting face that were in opposition to her mother's gentleness. She gave the illusion of motherhood in her brown eyes but the cruelty in her heart sang a different melody.
Her dark brown hair resembled her mother's, but blended into the caramel highlights that surrounding the crown of her head and faded at the tops of her hair. She wore a gown of a similar and more modest style with silver embellishments, but a cheaper fabric.
"And her daughter, the Lady Iris," the guard's counterpart announced before returning to his post.
       "Your Majesty," the ladies synchronized with a bow.
       "It's been so long since we've last seen each other," Belladonna's silken voice brushed against their sharp ears.
       "It has," the King's gravelly voice cut through the floral aromas like the felling of a tree.
       His eyes were enraptured by the blue rose restricted from him by a glass dome covered in the sulfuric scent of witchcraft. He clutched the throne's armrest with a racing heart. A heart that hadn't felt this alive in over a lifetime.
       "Come closer," the King ordered.
       The Lady Iris lifted her chin and waltzed her way toward the King but a tall dark-skinned man emerged between them. He tightened his grip on the flaming blue sword sheathed and strapped to his hip. He resembled the King by skin and by their piercing and unforgiving gaze.
       She took a step back.
       A ray of sunlight illuminated the iridescent blue rose in her hand. She squeezed the glass dome and pulled it closer to her chest.
       "Take it off," the King demanded.
       His counterpart hovered over Iris and waited her to fulfill his King's demand.
       The King's voice was rough and compelling, demanding nothing but respect in his presence.
       Iris obeyed his command and removed the glass dome then softly placed it on the floor.
       The men tilted their heads slightly. The one before the King gives a sidelong glance and awaited his approval. The King gave him a nod and the man proceeded to examine the authenticity of the blue rose. His piercing light brown eyes scanned the rose from top to bottom.
       The woman's heart began to race when the man began to examine her as well. She could feel the angel's power infiltrate her mind and sifted through every memory. She felt violated when he played her most intimate moments as he tried to find the one he needed.
       "Michael," the King's voice banged against the walls. "Is it real?"
       Michael stepped out of her mind, leaving her to replay the memories she left suppressed in her subconscious. He loosened his grip on his sword and took his place next to the King on the dais.
       The King's curiosity fought against his patience. A virtue he kept for so long despite the challenges of his immortality.
       He leaned in closer.
       "Yes, Your Majesty," the words of the King's Hand eased the minds and bodies of everyone in the room.
       The King slightly dropped his shoulders as he exhaled.
       The men had thick and formal accents. The way they effortlessly curved their words felt foreign to the mortal women before them. They wore clothing of luxurious white and grey fabric made with materials they'd never seen before.
       The King represented the color of his house with golden trims on his cuffs and embellishments with intricate designs.
       The Hand of the King wore a similar suit of the color grey with navy blue embellishments.
       He held his position next to the King in the empty space on the right side of the throne.
       "A throne fit for an heir," Iris unfurled the smaller throne on the King's other side. "Isn't that why you have it? So your Gods can see that you and the realm they abandoned are ready for an heir?"
       No words were spoken by the King and that told the Lady Iris all she needed to know.
       "What would you want in exchange for the rose? A place in Heaven for you and your boys?" Michael asked harshly. His brittle voice clawing against the mortal woman's ears.
       Belladonna awaited her daughter's proposal. Iris covered the blue rose with the glass dome as if it would protect it from harm.
       "No, King Vesper," she spoke the King's name that very few souls had the courage to do.
       The King and his Hand gave each other unpromising looks. Michael clutched his sword again when Iris opened her mouth.
       "I want to be your Queen," she proclaimed to the King.
       The Barren King stared blankly at the mortal woman before him.
       "I don't believe that's possible, Iris," Michael spoke in disbelief. "A mortal woman giving birth to the child of a high ranking angel could be—"
       "If I accept your offer," the King cut him off, "how do you propose we use the blue rose in conceiving an heir?" Michael jolted his head in the King's direction with a distraught look on his face.
       "My mother believes that with this rose she can turn it into a brew for our wedding, where we will then drink from our chalices and wish for us to conceive an heir." The Lady Iris spoke with such conviction that enticed the King of Heaven.
However, the King of Heaven has lived longer than the existence of the young woman's bloodline, and he knew better than to believe she was more than just a young woman with a goal. He and Michael exchanged words down a telepathic bond they shared.
Lady Iris felt a phantom spider crawl up her porcelain arms with tiny red bumps on her shoulders. She fought her nerves.
"The Blue Rose was designed by the Universe to grant any wish, bypassing any and all of its laws," she added to her case. "I know that your people have named you the Barren King...and I wish to change that for you by giving you an heir." She played on the hint of desperation in his eyes.
The Lady Iris had spent hours studying the King. There were plenty of them spent praying to him and attending church sermons in the mortal realms.
"I know that I can never replace the late Queen, but I can give you the child you seek," she claimed profusely.
"Are you aware of the risks that come if you wish to bear my child as a mortal?" The King asked. "Birthing an Angel is much different than giving birth to a human child."
"It could kill you."
Those words breezed by Iris as she said, "I'm well aware of the consequences, Your Majesty."
"And I am certain that I wish to go through with this."
Her approval sent a chilling thrill up the King's spine. The hairs on his arm rising with his heart and chest.
Michael's piercing glare penetrated through the King's skull but his monarch paid him no mind.
The Barren King's eyes were fixed on the young, dark haired mortal woman holding his future in her delicate and fragile hands.
The Blue Rose could fall and shatter at any moment.
"Then I will make you my Queen Consort," the King spoke eloquently. "So as long as you are able to bear my child."
Iris and her mother's shoulders fell down as he spoke those words. Belladonna let out a sigh and felt the cool breeze graze against her soft skin.
"Caaawww!" The crow made his harsh call.
The guards pulled out their swords and protracted their wings.
The Harbinger of Death made its final warning call.
Belladonna and Michael lunged themselves in front of the King and future Queen of Heaven.
The black crow's humanoid eyes struck an uneasy feeling of familiarity in their minds. They were filled with anger, bubbling at the surface of his eyes.
He jumped off of the window sill and joined the dragons in their journey to the fiery darkness of the Infernal Realm.
When the room let out a sigh of relief, Michael held his breath. His eyes had slightly softened at the crows departure, and pain sat where his tears should've.
His exhale brought him agony.
Fear and guilt were written all over Lady Iris's face when she remembered of a promise she couldn't keep.
The Hand of the King observed the trembling woman who could not maintain eye contact with him or his King.
Michael felt in his bones that Heaven's future Queen Consort would be the realm's downfall.

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