Lizabella: A Musical Fairy Tale 🎤

21: Battle Cry

King Malcus gazed out of the window. "Yes," he said, his voice as distant as the star-studded sky. "There are always consequences." 

Just then there was a knock at the king's door. A servant scurried to open it and presented Evilla.

"Your Royal Highness," she said, dropping low in a sleek curtsy. "Your presence is requested."

"So I've heard," said the king, not bothering to turn around.

Finchley hastened to join Evilla. "I'm at my wits end," he said in a frantic whisper. "I've tried everything but the king refuses to heed my council. He wants to cancel the ball! Send the women packing! Perhaps with your powers of persuasion you'll be able to get him to see some sense?"

Evilla steepled her long, tapered fingers underneath her chin, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Leave it with me."

King Malcus was still standing rigid by the  window, looking like a broken statue, when an ivory carriage sped through the gates and skidded to a stop outside the entrance to the palace.

A beautiful woman was assisted out of the carriage by two footmen. 

Her violet dress glittered with tiny diamonds and swept the floor in a long train. A magnificent diamond necklace hugged her slender throat. Her hair, black as the night sky, was loosely pinned back with a cascade of curls framing her lovely face.

Pink lips.

Dark, almond-shaped eyes.

Breathtaking.

King Malcus's breath caught in his throat. Perhaps it would not be so bad to remarry, after all, he thought to himself, unable to look away. His own father had remarried, had he not?

The woman glanced up and caught sight of the king watching her. Her eyes lit up and a dazzling smile spread across her radiant face.

Malcus nearly fell out of the window.

Who was this beauty? What was her name? He must see her! He must—

"Impertinence," came a smooth voice behind the king.

It was Evilla.

"Not only does she arrive to the king's ball half an hour late, but she has the audacity to wear purple? The king's own colors!"

Malcus tore his gaze away from the ravishing raven beauty.

"If I may say," Finchley cut in, desperate to rectify Evilla's wreckful words. "That charming lady is a feast to the eyes! A delight to the senses! A wonder to the sensibilities!" he gushed, trying to push Evilla out of the way, but the wretched woman would not budge.

"We must forgive her delay," he went on. "I am sure she has traveled many, many miles. Just look at the state of her horses!" he said, pointing to the splendid, strapping, white horses.

Evilla glared red-hot daggers at the king's right hand man."It is an affront to the king's honor."

"Only if he is persuaded of it!" snapped Finchley. "And the king must forgive her choice in color. I daresay that in her land they are far more liberal with the purple family. 

In fact, I am convinced that in her land the people must be entirely ignorant of such a custom. We must excuse her lack of knowledge in this area, after all, any woman, particularly a woman of such fine breeding like this tantalizing creature before us, can easily be educated regarding color coded stringencies."

The king nodded in agreement but Evilla was not through. How many heirs could she possibly kill before the king grew suspicious?

"Such insolence is unforgivable, I'm afraid," she said, her voice like silk slicing through the sword. "She is a disgrace to Queen Adelia's memory." 

And the deed was done.

Finchley wrung his hands in rage. Evilla had ruined everything! She was a demented lunatic! She was a snake!

Evilla crept closer towards the king. "Queen Adelia was the loveliest creature in the world. She placed the king's esteem in the highest honor. She would not want the king to lower himself for a brazen trophy with no regard for the king's dignity."

Evilla paused, letting her words plunge into his heart like a knife. "A new queen is not the only path to greatness. There is another way."

"Go on," said Malcus.

"Fight. Conquer. Be victorious. Harness your platoon of war horses. Mobilize your men. Give them a reason to live by fighting. Vanquish nations far and wide, and you will proclaimed throughout the world as a mighty force to be reckoned with. A glorious empire."

"Finchley!" barked the king at the ashen-faced man. "Relay my sincerest apologies to the damsels but I must rally my men." He whipped his cloak around his neck.  "There is a war to fight."

(Author's note: Thanks so much for reading and voting! You're the best!

I'm sorry for dashing your hopes of a ball, blame it on Evilla not me. That woman destroys everything! But fear not, there shall be a ball...at some point :D)