[???? All Time Low – Jon Bellion.]
THE SKYLING BEASTS hovered in the blue heavens for a while. Apparently, it hadn't snowed yet in the Capitol. The winds were distinctly cold though and only few ships lazied about in the glassy sea beyond. Giselle could see her home: the Empire's majestic palace, from up in the skies.
Her white Griffin flapped large wings at it floated in the air. It sailed and stared down into the hobbled streets below next to Rafel's obsidian pegasus.
As per Her Majesty's royal orders,
[Greetings, Eldoria—all and sundry! A feast of seven days is hosted by the Court of Fae Queen. All citizens are welcome within the palace walls during these time. Let us join in the unification of our hearts and prosperity of our lands as we celebrate victory over those that would oppose us. Happy feasting!]
This writ was coined by her royal Scribe and hammered as posters all over the Capitol. And for once, the Gold Cloaks who patrolled the city took to the undercity where the overlords reigned; the grimy alleyways and soiled pubs, and they likewise pinned the invitation parchments on the vomit-green bricks of the lesser districts.
Most of the gild appareled officers were more than happy to return to the swankier quietude of the Lords Estates.
"The city is robed in gold, Your Majesty," Ser Romulus remarked.
All straddling the winged and magical animals in the air turned eyes to the streets below. Giselle and her company hovered above the oblivious traders and milling common folk. Clouds passed about them in the sky. One little boy dragged a stubborn goat that bleated over people's legs.
Cora, the one with the artist's excellent eye, intelligently began to describe the kingdom's preparation for the feast.
"The streets are lined in the gilded banners. See how they catch the beams of the sun. Roses and daisies on every window. Elden Valhallan vases marked with black paintings of heroes in splendor sold in stalls—and I think the one with the horns impaling a Titan is His Grace."
Rafel peered closer from his Pegasus at this. He only shrugged. Cora continued,
"Watch the townies and country folk troop in from the farming villages, their wagons full. Food would be in excess. There's also the foreign merchants with sculpted toys of valiant knights, who swear to the ebullient kids shrieking at their parents that the caricatures were autographed by Yours Truly..."
Cora nodded to Giselle who smiled humbly. She then pointed below from an effigy of a robustly dressed woman in a raffia crown leading a parade down a bustling streets.
"...and those would be the zealots of the Highfather, I guess."
Everyone laughed.
The Empire's magnificent castle had its four high steeples and turrets freshly donned in her royal colors. A long red carpet stretched out from the high double doors to the gravel landing courted by acres of mowed field. Carriages were already ridden in and parking.
Those elite Nobles who could curry favors from Her Majesty's handmaidens did: they would be allowed to reside in the castle for the feast.
Giselle could already see her loyal chefs and governesses scurrying about the byzantine archways to ensure things during the festival ran smoothly. To celebrate a win over so great a foe as Nephilims was no small thing.
"Yes, the kingdom is pretty." Giselle waved her off. "But I would that my Empire shines from the most stately mansion to the quaintest cottage."
"A noble wish, Your Majesty," Aya inputted.
Giselle looked to her and they shared a secret smile. Ever since last night, the fey Queen and the dark-haired succubus had come to a profound understanding only different sexual positions could cause. Cora noticed this, but said nothing of it. Giselle looked back to Rafel; her smile grew.
"So I'll be expecting you, Your Grace, at even."
She didn't ask. She left her words as a statement.
"CAYAT!" she called after, and her Griffin folded its wing. Her Lieutenant, Ser Romulus clutched to her like a fragile bird as the Griffin suddenly began to plunge down in wicked speed. The giant white bird fell like a dropped spear with a weighted head, thousands of feet from the skies. Romulus closed his eyes at the rushing wind. Tears leaked out the corner of his vision.
Just when he thought they would crash into some Bell Tower off a rugged cliff, the Griffin flapped out its massive wings and broke their fall.
They lifted up in the air, just above the roofs of the market stalls this time, and soared above the trendy festive season to the looming decorated Castle. Giselle smelled the overflowing bougainvilleas and enchanting Wyrm seeds fragrance the air.
"Yes you will." Rafel finally said.
"Y–Yes. Yes. Sorry 'bout that. I'm fine. I'm alright. Dandy as day!"
"Good." Rafel kept out all the emotion from his voice and eyes. "And her?"
Ravenna followed his nod with her eyes. They were somehow even greener than he remembered. Probably because he had been secluded in deep white for most of the past month.
"Oh, Annabelle!" she said.
"You're on first name basis now?"
"Yes, SIR. Please don't sound so tame!" Ravenna fired sarcastically. "Need I remind you it's been twenty four fucking days since you've been gone. The Manor was quiet, I needed a friend."
"How about Brunhilda? Percival? You could have invited them over, not release out prisoner."
"Well, I guess I just wanted to free her." Ravenna slapped the sides of her hips with her arms.
She was unapologetic. Rafel fought the urge to smile. There was his Little Raven: his firebird.
"Have you even looked at her?" Ravenna squinted. "Look at her?"
Rafel did look this time. He really did.
Annabelle was in a floorlength citrine gown. It had a bold slit running up the left side, all the way up to her upper thigh. The Huntress had killer legs. They ran for ages. It also helped that she was willowy. She had no breasts and her ass was small.
But her beauty was in her model physique. She was a gazelle. A leggy bombshell.
Annabelle's literal flood of golden hair was piled in a fat, dropping braid that weighed at least five pounds and scraped the floors behind her. She was a pure country Blondie.
And the dress she stood in was divine.
Her moon-white iris, pupils pale too so that her gaze was colorless, leveled warmly on Rafel's wild stature. She blinked once.
Ravenna saw the appreciation as it entered Rafel's eyes. She said, "This is the Annabelle we are keeping from the world. This the Huntress the world needs to see. This is her new Legend. THIS, IS ANNABELLE CRAVEN. Go on girl, twirl around for him!"
As Annabelle turned a round shy circle, Rafel only saw her legs and her pale eyes. She was sexy. Tok sexy at the moment for a thirsty soldier returning from war.
Ravenna said, "We were heading out to the party in the Capitol later this evening. Can she come please?"
Since when did they become friends? Rafel frowned.
"Party's at dusk." He growled coldly.
He abruptly spun on his heel and walked away. He was at the foot of the stairs when Ravenna called.
"Hey, one more thing?!"
Rafel halted and turned. He spread his hands, waiting.
Ravenna surprised him completely by jumping in them. He caught her small frame as she embraced him. He let one of his big hands stroke the small of her back. He wondered if she was thinking what he was thinking at the moment: that hot night she had taken his cock like a good, little girl into her mouth for the first time.
Probably not.
Ravenna pulled away after a moment. She deftly folded her arms over her chest. She had no corset on, and her nipples betrayed her. No matter how much she knew she should stay clear away, she could not. Howbeit,
"Welcome home, sir," was all she said.