8. Twelve-Eyed Chicken On A Platter
1048 Words
"That is NOT chicken." I looked down at the platter holding a large two-headed sea creature and scrunched up my nose in disgust. "A chicken has a beak...not a mouth that's unable to close properly because of its 6 inched teeth...And it doesn't have scales...it has feathers! Have you never seen a chicken before?" I shifted my gaze to Wardrock who was staring down at his feet in shame.
"I thought it best fits your description, but I'll remove it now, if you do not like it." He grabbed the platter and hurried out of the dining room, brushing the shoulders of a bustling Sapheme who was just entering.
I rolled my eyes. They've been running around for about two hours, bringing me several food that they thought were similar to chicken. Wardrock was obviously fed up with searching...while Sapheme was still quite enthusiastic. But no matter how energetic she was, she must be tired from going back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room every second. I won't stop her though. They were the ones who offered to bring me whatever I wanted in the first place. And plus, it feels nice to see them work so hard just to please me.
"Sire!" Sapheme shuffles over, almost dropping the platter she was holding. She noisily placed it down as soon as she reached the table, heavy pants leaving her. "Is this what you are looking for?" She asked breathlessly.
Still in the process of figuring out why she was trying so hard, I moved my eyes away from her and studied the creature in front of me. Black feathers, wings, human-like ears, curved beak and twelve eyes in total. It was the closest thing to a chicken and the only edible thing I've seen so far.
"I guess. They're kind of similar, I think."
Her face instantly lit up, her lips parting to expose her teeth as she turned to give her brother a smug smile. "See Gylador? I told you I'd find it before Wardrock!"
"I didn't say it was exactly what I asked for, I only said they're similar." I mumbled quietly, frowning as I drew back in my seat. Sapheme seemed too happy to even process that I had spoken, not that I cared.
Gylador grunted, drawing my attention to him. He was standing beside me like a guard. Hands at his side, shoulders straight and eyes transfixed on nothing but me. Instead of replying to his sister who desperately awaited her brother's praise, he addressed me. "As soon as you finish eating, Delari will help you with you bathe and dress, after which she'll escort you back to your chambers to rest."
I squinted. "Darthy will do what?"
I must not have heard right, cuz ain't nobody gonna witness me naked!
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I dropped my fork on the glass plate and pushed it aside, right hand softly patting my oversized stomach. "Where's the bathroom? I do not need this Darthy person to bathe nor dress me. I do perfectly fine on my own."
"It's Delari, sire." Sapheme corrected as she began ridding the table of the mostly empty dishes.
"Whatever." I rolled my eyes.
I didn't know what it was that I said or did, but Sapheme stopped her task and made it her priority to stare down at me, her gaze circling my face repeatedly, as if carefully studying every little feature I possessed. She was almost as creepy as Gylador...almost.
"What?" I asked, shifting in my seat as discomfort plagued me. Her stare was a scary one, one that was penetrating and calculating. I couldn't help but have the feeling that she's contemplating on strangling me to death.
I don't remember saying anything too bad so I think I'm safe...emphasis on 'think'
"Such etiquettes are not of a king." She told me in a somewhat disapproving tone as she resumed her task whilst occasionally glancing back at me.
Upon hearing that, frustration came back at full force. "What? Me bathing myself?"
"That too, but I was referring to the rolling thing." She pointed to some place on my face and I cupped my cheeks defensively. Rolling thing? What kind of crap is she sprouting now? "The thing you do with your eyes." She added for further clarity.
I dropped my hands, eying her flatly. "It's a human way of saying I understand."
"Please refrain from doing weird things like that to communicate your feelings." She adviced, in a very irritatingly nonchalant and demanding way that said I could not refuse.
I rolled my eyes without making a single effort to resist the urge. "You're practically asking me to abandon my humanity." I said, the exaggeration working as a form of indirect opposition to her outright demand.
If I knew what was best for me, then I'd shut my mouth and go ahead with whatever they wanted, but let's just say I'm testing the waters. Hopefully, I won't be dying before my time.
And besides, I'm the supposed king here, I'm the one who should be giving orders...not her.
"If you want your subjects to acknowledge you, you cannot keep displaying your humane habits while you-"
"My lord, your bath is ready." The impassive voice of Gylador, drew me back to moments before Sapheme brought up the unnecessary. "As you wish, I've told Delari that you will not be needing her services for bathing, however, I hope you'll at least allow her to dress you."
I pursed my lips into a thin line and pressed both my palms against the table, using them to aid me in standing. "Uh...no. I'm not paralyzed, I can do these stuffs on my own."
I don't even know why they're trying to get me to change my mind...My body, my rules. They don't get a say.
"Yes, but as for a lowborn like Delari, serving you is her only source of income. If you take away her job, you will only make it hard for her to survive." Sapheme butted in.
I chewed on my bottom lip, eyebrows meeting as I narrowed my eyes on Sapheme, silently cursing her six feet under. Quite annoyingly, she's a pro at guilt-tripping.
"Alright," I sighed, "let's go before I decide I don't want to bathe."
- Writer
