Snippet #2733078

"That does not belong to you." was the first words he heard as he lifted his eyes to see his Orcs holding a woman of nineteen. The Golden Princess was even more beautiful then he imagined. Though he supposed her beauty was being contrasted by the anger in her tone.

Granted, he did kill her father no more then two hours ago. So that anger was well founded. He wouldn’t hold that against her.

Amused at the statement however, he gave a small hearty chuckle. Albeit it sounded more darker then needed, but it let off the aggression he felt by being spoken to so bluntly. The Orcs holding her began to laugh too, before a glare from Maelthra made them stop.

“I trust you are undamaged. The Eastern Kingdoms would not like it and whatever Council they form will debate even less than anticipated.” He states as he then drew to his full height, staring at her before making a gesture to the Orcs, “Let her hands free. She has no weapon.”

He rubbed his hands silently for the next few moments. “You are partially right. This seat is not mine. It was your Father’s. Now it is yours, but you will answer to me from now on, like it or not, to keep your head Golden Princess.” His charming smile slowly faded to a frown. He then looked at her eye to eye as he allowed his grey eyes to turn yellow, to intimidate her. “Because your life now belongs to me, and that makes your throne, mine.” The last words he once more used his magic to make it as evil sounding as possible.

But both eye color and voice faded to normal, as his body couldn’t allow him to use his magic so frequently as he had in days long past. “You will be my magistrate to your lands to discourage rebellions, and my hostage to ensure Orina and the Other Eastern Kingdoms, including Valsir, keeps their attentions to their western borders.”

“Why speak of Valsir Lord? They’re just foolish Dragon worshiping barbarians, and fairy touched to boot.” A goblin spoke out as Maelthra stopped in his talking, angered at the interruption. His fist clenched, and dark tendrils grabbed the poor little green skinned being by the neck and hurled him out of a window.

“Is there any other complaints of my negotiation speeches from the dire wolf gallery!?” He asked harshly to the Orcs and they said nothing, allowing their master to calm himself.

“Forgive that rude interruption to our conversation Princess Clara. We were discussing your new role in my Empire.” Maelthra grinned a seemingly friendly grin and snapped his fingers. “A chair for her highness, and a table that’s not broken. I want supper, and that wine bottle.”

“You threw out Grunder. He had the bottle.” An elf in servant clothing stated.

“Well. I suggest you find a bottle that matched that year.” The Shadow King stated coldly, as the elf bowed and ran. “Now, do you have any statements or queries?”