Lord's Aggression

21

The Eight states of Sebria were under the risk of imperilment, for their king was in a towering rage. His fists were painfully clenched, cutting his palm’s skin as he madly paced around the stage of the courtroom. It had been seven hours and twenty-six minutes yet there was no sign of her being dragged back to him. Oh, God save him, for all he saw was red, blood red. He felt this abounding hunch of making every member of the royal harem feel the pain he was going through by thrashing, flogging, waterboarding before finally executing their pathetic beings for being reckless.

For they couldn’t nursemaid his greatest possession. His need. His rose.

He cracked his neck in a circular motion with his shoulders tensed. His feet couldn’t stop marching here and there. His heart was crushed as if someone had placed mountains of rocks on it. It was bleeding, it was screeching, it was calling her out. Fuck for being the king and still not being able to clip her wings.

He loudly fumed as his