Forced Emotions - Chapter 2
A Twisted Fate
"What's up?" Mint asked the plumpish old man sitting in a gold and red velvet throne. She made her way toward her soon-to-be throne.
"Ah, Mint. There is something I must bring to your attention. It is regarding your succession to the throne," the almost retired ruler said bluntly.
"What? Is my crowning date changed or something?" Mint asked, a little confused, yet unworried.
"Oh no, dear. It is nothing like that. It is more...serious," he said sternly, blinking away solemnly from his daughter. It was seconds before her voice made him face her again.
"...Well, are you gonna tell me or not?" Mint asked impatiently.
Clearing his throat, the old man began:
"For years East Heaven has always kept a royal blood line flowing that would be passed on for generations. In simpler words, East Heaven's heirs to the throne have married someone also of royal blood. Thus, this 'chain' has never been broken, and I am telling you to keep it in tact."
Mint shifted uncomfortably in her throne, not liking where the conversation was leading to one bit. Her father saw the uncertainty on her face, and spoke once more.
"To put it in one easy sentence, you have to marry a prince," the ruler replied.
Mint bolted upright from her chair, spinning around to glare at the aged monarch.
"Oh yeah?! Well, add this to the chain! I'll only marry someone capable of beating me in battle, royal or not! If you got a problem with that, fix it for all I care! My mind won't change about that!" Her eyes blazed with her ever-strong fury, the seeing orbs appearing to be on fire in the swirl of crimsons and auburns.
"...If that is how you truly feel, then I will not stop you from fighting these battles..." the ruler spoke gradually, his oldness really coming out not only from his voice, but also from the many wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
IYes! Now I don't have to marry no one since nobody can beat me!!!/I Mint thought with an evil feeling of glee, her eyes turning back to their normal brown hue.
Practically skipping back to her future throne, Mint sat on the arm instead of the square cushion. An awkward silence soon filled the fifty- foot tall room, the knights standing still even as the small gusts of wind threw itself harmlessly to the tall windows. It was so strange that after living in such an extravagant place for most of her life, that Mint still found everything so unfamiliar and bizarre...
"THAT IS IT!!!" the sovereign finally yelled, startling Mint so much that she did a perfect face plant into the pearly white marble floor.
Leaping up with her unforgettable stomp, Mint turned to the now hyper- than-ever old man for an explanation that nearly gave her a heart attack.
"What the hell is wrong now!?" Mint demanded out of sheer annoyance. Her dad, in the meantime, was dancing about like a little girl.
"Yes, yes, /I Mint, I am going to hold a tournament in your honor! That way, someone will be bound to beat you, and therefore will get the opportunity to wed you!" the old geezer spilled out jubilantly, on the verge of tears and giggles from this brilliant plan of his.
"But-" Mint started in protest, yet was stopped short by her father's wrinkle-infested hand that raised itself to her face. She crossed her eyes and blinked at the middle of his palm, then grumbled as she crouched down and folded her arms above her knees.
"No buts about it, my sweetheart! Your father knows what is best for you, and this is it! It is /I what our kingdom is in need of!" the sovereign butted in, smiling victoriously with surprisingly pretty well groomed teeth. "It will take place five days from now! Whoever beats all the challengers and my daughter shall have my daughter's hand in marriage! Did you get that scribe?!" he added more specifically, looking over toward his now nodding personal etcher.
"Good! Oh, there is so much to do! So many arrangements to prepare, so many invitations to be sent!" the king finished, arising from his throne and speed walking down the hall, his scribe a half step behind him.
"No way did that just happen..." Mint whispered aloud, the whole crazed idea of having a tournament finally sinking into her mind. Shooting up with a hop, Mint's fists clenched as did her teeth, and she gave the hardest, most powerful stomp she could muster up to the floor, breaking noises being audibly heard. The chandelier that was hanging lifelessly, so beautifully a second ago had came zooming to his the hardened flooring, and a very expensive painting broke off from one of the four walls, both classy objects ruined and totally irreplaceable.
"DANG IT!!! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR LISTENING TO A SERVANT FOR THE FIRST TIME, YOU MORON!!!" Mint scolded, her chest rising with her shoulders from the deep, heavy breaths of air that she was inhaling and exhaling. With her blood now flowing through her body more hastily than before, an idea of her own took over, and she ran out of the room instantly, a knight or two soon looking over to the damage that they themselves were probably going to get punished for.
A Twisted Fate
"What's up?" Mint asked the plumpish old man sitting in a gold and red velvet throne. She made her way toward her soon-to-be throne.
"Ah, Mint. There is something I must bring to your attention. It is regarding your succession to the throne," the almost retired ruler said bluntly.
"What? Is my crowning date changed or something?" Mint asked, a little confused, yet unworried.
"Oh no, dear. It is nothing like that. It is more...serious," he said sternly, blinking away solemnly from his daughter. It was seconds before her voice made him face her again.
"...Well, are you gonna tell me or not?" Mint asked impatiently.
Clearing his throat, the old man began:
"For years East Heaven has always kept a royal blood line flowing that would be passed on for generations. In simpler words, East Heaven's heirs to the throne have married someone also of royal blood. Thus, this 'chain' has never been broken, and I am telling you to keep it in tact."
Mint shifted uncomfortably in her throne, not liking where the conversation was leading to one bit. Her father saw the uncertainty on her face, and spoke once more.
"To put it in one easy sentence, you have to marry a prince," the ruler replied.
Mint bolted upright from her chair, spinning around to glare at the aged monarch.
"Oh yeah?! Well, add this to the chain! I'll only marry someone capable of beating me in battle, royal or not! If you got a problem with that, fix it for all I care! My mind won't change about that!" Her eyes blazed with her ever-strong fury, the seeing orbs appearing to be on fire in the swirl of crimsons and auburns.
"...If that is how you truly feel, then I will not stop you from fighting these battles..." the ruler spoke gradually, his oldness really coming out not only from his voice, but also from the many wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
IYes! Now I don't have to marry no one since nobody can beat me!!!/I Mint thought with an evil feeling of glee, her eyes turning back to their normal brown hue.
Practically skipping back to her future throne, Mint sat on the arm instead of the square cushion. An awkward silence soon filled the fifty- foot tall room, the knights standing still even as the small gusts of wind threw itself harmlessly to the tall windows. It was so strange that after living in such an extravagant place for most of her life, that Mint still found everything so unfamiliar and bizarre...
"THAT IS IT!!!" the sovereign finally yelled, startling Mint so much that she did a perfect face plant into the pearly white marble floor.
Leaping up with her unforgettable stomp, Mint turned to the now hyper- than-ever old man for an explanation that nearly gave her a heart attack.
"What the hell is wrong now!?" Mint demanded out of sheer annoyance. Her dad, in the meantime, was dancing about like a little girl.
"Yes, yes, /I Mint, I am going to hold a tournament in your honor! That way, someone will be bound to beat you, and therefore will get the opportunity to wed you!" the old geezer spilled out jubilantly, on the verge of tears and giggles from this brilliant plan of his.
"But-" Mint started in protest, yet was stopped short by her father's wrinkle-infested hand that raised itself to her face. She crossed her eyes and blinked at the middle of his palm, then grumbled as she crouched down and folded her arms above her knees.
"No buts about it, my sweetheart! Your father knows what is best for you, and this is it! It is /I what our kingdom is in need of!" the sovereign butted in, smiling victoriously with surprisingly pretty well groomed teeth. "It will take place five days from now! Whoever beats all the challengers and my daughter shall have my daughter's hand in marriage! Did you get that scribe?!" he added more specifically, looking over toward his now nodding personal etcher.
"Good! Oh, there is so much to do! So many arrangements to prepare, so many invitations to be sent!" the king finished, arising from his throne and speed walking down the hall, his scribe a half step behind him.
"No way did that just happen..." Mint whispered aloud, the whole crazed idea of having a tournament finally sinking into her mind. Shooting up with a hop, Mint's fists clenched as did her teeth, and she gave the hardest, most powerful stomp she could muster up to the floor, breaking noises being audibly heard. The chandelier that was hanging lifelessly, so beautifully a second ago had came zooming to his the hardened flooring, and a very expensive painting broke off from one of the four walls, both classy objects ruined and totally irreplaceable.
"DANG IT!!! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR LISTENING TO A SERVANT FOR THE FIRST TIME, YOU MORON!!!" Mint scolded, her chest rising with her shoulders from the deep, heavy breaths of air that she was inhaling and exhaling. With her blood now flowing through her body more hastily than before, an idea of her own took over, and she ran out of the room instantly, a knight or two soon looking over to the damage that they themselves were probably going to get punished for.