Chapter 4
Molag Bal's POV
"Oww" the pain in his head refused to go away; the party was great, yet I was seriously regretting attending. I couldn't remember most of it, however, one thing I unfortunately did recall was singing to my nemesis, Boethiah. I, Molag Bal, does not sing – at least, not unless I was doing the washing up. I am a big fan of Taylor Swift – especially not to that Daedric Prince. I just seriously hoped no-one else was sober enough to remember that…abomination. "Heeeeeeeyyy, Molag, how's that hangover? Must be pretty bad, seeing as you got sooo drunk you sung to Boethiah!" Mephala breezed. Dammit.
It seemed every single Daedric Lord knew about my little… endeavour last night. Either everyone was sober but me or someone remembered it and somehow showed it to everyone else. It seemed exactly like the kind of thing only one particular Prince would do, and if not him, then maybe he could lead me to the culprit. which was why I was on my way to to see none other than the guy I drunkenly serenaded, the king of deceit, and the bloke I hated more than anyone else in the world.
Steeling myself for the stream of badly thought out insults and snide remarks, I knocked on his door. The door opened slowly as he glowered out, however, as soon as he saw me, he quickly tried to shut it. I stuck my foot between the door and wall. Wincing in pain, I gasped "I'm not here to try and destroy your High School Musical collection like last time." Suspiciously, he opened the door a little wider, and I removed my now half dead foot. "What do you want?" he snapped. "Great to see you too, Boey"
"Don't call me Boey"
"You see, Boey, I'm here because you, yes you, have been spreading the knowledge of the recent event that-"
"You mean the singing?"
"Yes."
"Why the hell would I want people to know about that?!" Boethiah cried. "Do you know how much I'm being made fun of?! I had to make loads of mortals fight to the death to calm down, you stupid, Vile-" It struck me then. Of course Clavicus Vile would have been the one to do it! Probably so he could strike some sort of stupid bargain with me. "Are you even listening?!" Boethiah fumed. "Not one bit! Bye!" I answered, then shut the door in his face, walking off.
On the walk there I fantasised about all the ways I would brutally murder Clavicus with a spoon, and so, by the time I arrived, I was in a fairly good mood. That is, until I had to actually talk to him. He could barely keep a straight face even talking to me. "Well, well, guess who it is, none other than the great Molag Bal! Terrifying, ruthless and also, a really bad singer. As we all know."
"What do you want?"
"Well, my masque needs fixing, I want Barbas to leave me alone for a few minutes, Dibella's phone number would be great, I-"
"No. What do you want with me?"
"You? Absolutely nothing." He seemed completely bewildered, and I didn't think he was lying. This meant that I was left completely bewildered, however. "Why did you tell everyone about my singing, then?"
"Me? I didn't do that!" He laughed, then narrowed his eyes. "But I can tell you who knows who did" There was something in his tone which told me I wouldn't want to do whatever he was about to ask me.
