Chapter Two: The Premonition
9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaGGiIGQmra
...
9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡECCtapAQbr
9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfLvzdV2NoP
9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5Ofu17LCmp
9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQlslmhtbJm
The prince sauntered down in the throne room, his bronze crown sitting proudly atop his head as sunlight streamed through the large, stained glass windows and danced in colorful geometric shapes on the marble floors.
Suddenly something barreled into him from the right side.
“Sire!-”
A quiet, squeaky voice yelped as someone slammed into his shoulder.
“Pardon thee!”
Leveret chirped indignantly as he stumbled back, his crown slipping down his forehead.
It had always been too big for him.
It had been his father’s when he was a prince.
Leveret blinked down at the heap of dark purple fabric and soft yellow frills at his feet.
“Oh ley… where is my cane?!”
She mumbled, feeling around on the ground with her twitching fingers.
She wrapped her fingers around the prince’s ankle and frowned.
“Alright… that is a leg… that is not what I am looking for but we shall speak to the owner of said leg in a moment!”
Martellus hurried over and pressed the cane into her hands.
“Philomath! There you go, dear.”
“Oh my who is that…?”
Philomath muttered, her hands hovering in the air as she blinked her wide, cloudy eyes.
Martellus chuckled.
“It’s just me, Phil.”
“Ah yez! Marty! I like you!”
She nodded and patted what she assumed was his cheek.
“Um… Phil? That is my forehead, dear.”
“...Oh. Pardon me then!”
She replied, pulling herself up with her cane.
The prince adjusted his crown back into place and huffed.
Marty stood up next to her, glanced down at Leveret and chuckled again.
“Does something amuse you, Martellus?”
“Indeed, your majesty.”
He mused, his mouth twitching upwards in a small smirk as he shifted the crown with his fingertips.
The prince gasped, flailing slightly.
“How dare- Cease and desist, peasant!”
He scoffed, his voice cracking slightly.
Marty chortled, bowing slightly as Philomath chuckled behind him..
“My apologies, your highness. I believe you have business with your adviser.”
Leveret smoothed the wrinkles out of his clothes and huffed.
“Indeed, Martellus. You may go.”
Marty turned on his heel and walked off, his footsteps clicking on the marble floors.
Philomath suddenly grabbed the young prince by his shoulders.
“What on earth are you-”
The prince started to say.
“Hush, child.”
She interrupted, placing a finger on what she thought was his lips but was actually the right side of his nose as she stared blankly at his forehead with sightless eyes.
“I have had another premonition.”
Leveret’s eyes widened.
“When?”
He whispered, grabbing onto her forearms.
“Last night. After I finished my conversation with your father and retired to my bedchambers.”
She replied, lowering her voice to match his.
“What… or who was it about?”
He inquired leaning slightly closer.
“You, sire! It was about you!”
She hissed urgently.
“What did you see, Philomath?”
He said, gripping her arms tighter.
She held her breath for a moment, as if contemplating as if she should tell him.
“Y-You… may not be in the castle much longer, your majesty.”
“How could this be? I am the prince of Phallowskleft!”
He half whispered, his voice cracking again.
“Indeed you are, sire, but your guess is as good as mine.”
She mumbled before hurrying out of the room.
Suddenly, a large, rough hand rested itself on his shoulder.
“Leveret! Virelai’s betrothal banquet is in an hour!”
His father cried, turning his son around and dragging him out of the room.
“But Father-
“No buts son!”
“-Father! The premonition! The adviser-”
“Oh hush, Leveret! Your mother and sister are waiting in the dining hall.”
9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsc1it97U7E
and then Add to home screen.