Great Britain: Prime Minister's Throne

[Tiffany Brick]

Where William Henry Hyde take his seat.

 

[BaileysGold]

William took his seat on the throne that he earned through sweat and blood. He then reads a news on papyrus inclining about how revolutions were stirred up everywhere around Europe, and even in Great Britain; even so, none of this stirs up his anxiety and go paranoid through things that he can thoroughly control. Who knew that this Lucian, William; could lead a country? No one would have ever guessed, not even in his wildest dreams. Resided to the chair in his office, and then sank into it; dreaming, thinking and perhaps reflecting. This was the routine that was very common to William ever since he was declared the Prime Minister. The sheets of paper that you would not dare to count; which were problems during the past reign. Was now gone, there is nothing left to do. But in his office, he saw an unopened letter; one for the deceased Prime Minister that loved him like a grandson, and him; a granddad. He decided not to open it for the mere curiosity that lingered in his figure could be controlled and pay its respects to the deceased honorable man. But beyond all these thoughts, he knew that someday, he would have to meet Aurora and Fernando. Perhaps it would not hurt him, perhaps it would: only fate can tell. But William, formerly Lucian, was a man of extreme daredevil attitude. He wanted to try and test the old sepulchral and grave feelings that "could be" awakened in meeting Aurora. But even so, he dared to try. Which is why he scheduled his leave three months from what date it is now. He smiled the old smirk that he wore, the wicked one. But in which he did not plan no wrong. But there is always a lingering part to do what his pride tells him to.

 

[Carina Smyth]

Princess Elizabeth knocked on the door. She hoped that she was not disturbing the Prime Minister. She knew that he was a very busy man but had to talk to him.  

[BaileysGold]

Lucian sighed at yet another knock on his door, but he did not any job to do and he was extremely disinterested by the books and all of the activities he was reading and doing. He missed his old life in France, where everything was an excitement. Where he can buy whores whenever he wished to, Where he can join in with the other street urchin's into their homes and venture with them and all their vices. But he was feeling this mainly because he was a child, no less than the age of 20 or something like that. He had all the vices, and aspired to all crimes before. The digestion of evil aroused in him an appetite for worse. It was the street boy turned pickpocket, and a pickpocket turned garroter. He was genteel, effeminate, graceful, robust, sluggish, ferocious. The rim of his hat was curled up on the left side, in order to make room for a tuft of hair, after the style of 1829. He lived darkness. His coat was of the best cut. Lucian, as we said was a fashion-plate in misery. At eighteen, he had already numerous corpses in his past. More than one passer-by lay with outstretched arms in the presence of this wretch, with his face in a pool of blood. This was how dark Lucian's life was. But back to the main story, he opened the door inattentively and said, "Welcome to my throne."

 

[Carina Smyth]

"Thank you so much William. I have been meaning to ask you about France. I am concerned about the power they have and the threat they may oppose to us. It has been showing up this way in my dreams as well. Not that dreams really mean much but I still am concerned. Have you visited France at all?" Elizabeth asked. She knew that she had bothered William at the wrong time.  

[BaileysGold]

Lucian looked at the princess with disinterest and boredom; on about what she was speaking of, and what it contains. Lucian knew that France had no power over Great Britain and both countries did not stood as a threat to one another, and being professional enough; Great Britain wasn't at a state of war with any other countries in Europe, even Spain. That was because of the brilliance that people in Europe brought, and this; Lucian knew well of. "Mademoiselle, I am not bothered by this dreams, as much as you are. Perhaps, I am more bothered at the rats in my place than these threats of conspiracy. And visited France, I believe so; before. Remember, I am a guy with French blood." he said, with a bit of the disdain nature he was so used on wearing. Lucian rose from his seat to fix more papers that are to be submitted to different countries that needed maintenance in terms of the peace treaties they signed. Some are invitations, but some; he didn't mind.

 

[Carina Smyth]

"Yes I'm sorry I did not mean to insult you or bring it up but I thought of course you knew more than I did. I need to get back to working but thank you so much for putting my mind at ease. I should probably get back to working. I hope you have a good rest of the day." Elizabeth said. She felt bad about wasting the Prime Minister's time and she walked out.  

[BaileysGold]

"You did not Insult me, Mademoiselle. In fact, I've been sinking into disinterest with this that are happening. Actually, the problem is; there is no problem at all." he said, placing the papers back to the vault and moved through the red-carpeted flooring covered with secondary lining of gold, curved to an elegant manner, in which magnified his place even more. "Perhaps I can visit other lugubrious beings of Great Britain, or perhaps I should visit the living miseries on jail. Perhaps, I should join the rangers upon their aim towards a better dexterity. Perhaps I should join the knights, marching with valiance and chivalry. Or perhaps, I should run with a thief and match his agility.?" he said, sinking again on the extremely soft crimson cushion and stared at the curtained window. "What a bright day it is! But what is the use of a bright day without seeing the sunlight?" he exclaimed opening the curtains to reveal the restrained light which is now a light freely flowing across the room. "I really do not have much to do." he said, with disinterest upon the whole room.

 

[BaileysGold]

Lucian glared at the familiar man and was not even shocked by this. He knew this day had to come, when he finally meets his problem. The problem that was before a solution. "I am not entirely wicked as you are, even if my humanity was stable by this. It is the thing that you taught me. But there is time for us all to decide who we are. We are who we choose to be, and that, my friend. Is what you'll do." he spoke, in calmness and tranquility. Unafraid and tough; yet gentle like the calm ship in an open storm. He aimed his pistol at Monseigneur Antoine, "Now is your time. Choose! Who are you now? Would you still remain in the darkest realms of your hidden agenda? Or would you decide to keep your mouth forever? Choose!" He said, sitting tranquilly on his table. Without a grave expression nor one filled with glee. His right brow was roused, and his mouth tightly sealed.

 

[sir zombashes]

Antoine turned back around and stared straight into the barrel of the pointed gun. "Finish me, pull the damned trigger. I will always be in the dark, I was born in it. Finish me off so I can be free of this accursed place, this world. You are more twisted inside than you lead yourself to believe, and you are a damned fool if you deny it." He began to inch forward, eyeing the barrel more and more intensely. The tension in the room increased with the closing distance between the two men. "Who are you, Lucian? Or should I use one of the other false names you seem to keep using. You're as fake as your intention is to pull that trigger!!" With that, Antoine leaped at Lucian, an agile move for an older man.  

[BaileysGold]

It has been a few weeks later ever since Lucian had sealed the fate of the man who ensnared him with counterfeits. There were all but empty promises in his words; perhaps sealing his fate is for the benefit of everyone. For everything doesn’t seems to be what they appear to be; these words haunted Lucian, It was a proverb that he heard from the bourgeois on his way to Great Britain a few months ago. But being on the slight reverie that appeared to be somewhat a mix of a sweet dream and a horrendous nightmare, Lucian shook all the conflicts upon his mind and took the letter from the mail box near the door of his throne room. He paced closer to the mailbox and saw one solitary letter; it had the seal of France. His heart thumped faster and fast, as if it was following the beat of the upbeat parade. He mustered up all the courage to open this letter; it might contain something that would place into despair, or something that would raise him to ecstasy. He never knew. He opened the letter and read it, scrutinized it and deliberately read the signed name again and again; to the point that he memorized what it contained. But even so, by reading the signed name again and again, the idea never sank into him until he read it for the twentieth time. That’s when his blood ran cold. One would think that it drove him with either ecstasy or despair; but none of them was felt, for it was a mixed emotion that even Lucian himself could not explain.

Lucian did not feel overjoyed or excited; it was the ghost of the past that will haunt him. There is no vague obscurity upon great pretense. He knew he had to pretend he was someone else, but what happens when you’ve placed too many mask upon yourself; then when you look upon your reflection, you see nothing but a masked person, with so much masks, that you could not dig out who are you and who are you not. This is the danger of pretense. Lucian’s knowledge of things grew stronger and stronger once he was in Great Britain; he grew to be quite wiser than he already was. But he was not wise before, in fact, he was foolish; but he too, was clever. And that was what mattered; to contain the natural brilliance that people would have been astonished to have. By these, Lucian expected the Queen’s arrival to be this day which is why he ordered the guards of the elite to wait for the Queen’s arrival. Everything is going to be formal and nothing shall get out of hand, this was what Lucian thought.