Amraphel stood as his watches perceived the servant's work for the best of the banquet that was to transpire later in the evening. He thoroughly scrutinized their endeavors.
Gavryll appeared in the ballroom where the banquet will be taking place. Soon as his eyes lay on the servants, he saw Amraphel who was leading the preparation. Therefore, he footed toward him with his brows creased.
"Prime Minister Amraphel…" he spoke.
Amraphel averted his watches to where Gavryll was, he had a stringent look on the surface of his countenance. Amraphel could feel the tension between them, he could surmise that Gavryll was here to beef with him solely for the motive of taking Hera back into his arms.
But what would be the use of it?
Amraphel never shared openly of his love for her, Hera on the other hand only wanted to fiddle with him. Both of them found no iintentto be in love, more precisely, it was Hera alone who found no intent of ever falling in love once again. Up until now, Hera still harbor that tinge of love for Gavryll.
Love does not disappear in a minute, it never did.
"Your Highness…" he curtsied.
Gavryll looked at him whilst he crossed his arms, "You do know that you are the imperial constitution's prime minister, do you not?"
"Yes, Your Highness. I know very well what duty I should commit to and what rules I should impose on yself to obey. I am the Prime Minister of this empire…"
He was polite and civil whilst he grinned at him. Behind that grin was his competence that pictured his countenance.
"Very well, then I surmise you know that you held no responsibility for the Empress. You are accounted to dedicate yourself to conforming to me and satisfying me with your duty. Then why is it that you fiddle with her?"
"Your Highness, you might have misunderstood something…" he promptly responded. "Not long, the Empress declared that she will solely be accounted for the throne and your duty as of now is to proceed with taking portion in planning with the imperial board. As I, the Prime Minister of this empire, I am obliged to heed unto the sovereign who reigns this empire and to which is the Empress."
Gavryll grimaced harder, "I knew what decree was there, but I surmised that I have to remind you that a minister shall have no affair with the Empress in an intimate manner. I will have you warned that she is my wife."
Amraphel scoffed, since he was taller than Gavryll, he subtly lowered his head to meet his face, he fazed at him with sinister that was present on the veneer of this countenance.
"How long have you known her, Your Highness? And how long was it since when you started betraying her? Then, if you have considered this already, Your Majesty, why is it that you still regard her as your wife? I surmise not even once did you treat her as a wife, you only treated her as an object to ensure your reign in her land. You treated her not a wife, and I am a witness of all this, you may be bound with the policy of the imperial nuptial, but you were scarcely husband and wife for you treat her as if she were not the woman you married."
His voice was full of truths, there was no use of denying. it For certain, Gavryll would have been found himself in a stupor with the inability to speak. Every time Gavryll was hit with the sharp truth, he would react this way, but he knew not why he should give up.
He could use this to his advantage to improve rather than take Hera back. Maybe he had a motive of loving her back, but at the same time he could be held on to a secondary intent and that is to have her close, so he could regain his power and influence.
"And that is why I was striving to make it right. I need you not to meddle with the liaisons of couples…"
"Indeed I need not to, if it was not Hera you married…With all due respect, Your Highness, Hera is the foundation of Zemira and if you dare be a folly and commit something that may harm her, I as the Prime Minister will not recline whilst you do this. If Hera could not find it in herself to avenge herself from you, then I will…as the Prime Minister, as her friend, her standing family, and a person who significantly care for her…"
Gavryll scoffed. His face came close to his, it was as if their eyes were dueling with each other, and they only share one purpose — Hera.
Even if their purpose were similar, they do not fraction the same intents. One which was purely for good and one which was sinister and of evil.
"Let us talk this out man to man, Amraphel..."
His hands tapped Amraphel's shoulders as Amraphel grimaced.
"Your Majesty, I surmise we have nothing to talk about. May you find it in you to lend a hand with the work that is yet to be fulfilled before the night comes. We may be wasting time because of this idle talk…"
Gavryll raised his head, aggravated yet pride arose from the glisten of his vigils, his hands tightly embraced each other.
"You speak with your Majesty, the Emperor, Prime Minister Amraphel. Did you perpetually think that a talk with me was idle? Such disrespect you harbored for me, you ought to ask for my forgiveness, do you not?"
Amraphel snickered, "Would you ask for my demise if I lie to you and not tell you that I always believed that you spoke countless idleness? And would you wish for my death if I truly disrespect you and I held no regard or respect toward you, even if you are the Emperor?"
"Indeed, I would. But I'd rather have you die if you lay a finger on my wife. Only I shall possess her."
Amraphel threw his hands on the neckband of his apparel, his nose flared, his eyes were tinted with the shade of hatred, and his brows creased as they met.
"Dare not depersonalize Hera, she was never a thing to fiddle with or use. If your words speak mightily as if objectifying the Empress, I will not let you off, even if I am just a Prime Minister, and even if I will be sentenced to death, I will haunt you until your sleep…even if I turned into a ghost."
"What impertinence you portray, Prime Minister Amraphel. Have you forgotten who stands before you to speak words of imminence? You do appreciate that you can leave with no head if you do so, do you?" Gavryll spoke with words of peril.
Amraphel could only scoff as he heard his supposedly threatening words. "Do tell me, who am I talking to? I seem to not know who you are, enlighten me of your name, sire."
Gavryll clenched his fists, "Such insolence!" he yelled fairly enough for everyone inside the stead they radiate their presence with to hear them.
"My, what could have been wrong?" whispered a court maid.
"Is the Prime Minister arguing with the Emperor? My, he's only making a folly out of himself. I greatly pity him once his head gets loose." said another.
The room radiated with words of mockery against him. "There are bumblebees around the place, and they're taking their ruler's side. How do you suppose they will respond against your rudeness against me?"
"Your Majesty, I daresay, you still harbour great pomposity among all. I praise your conceitedness, you are to no doubt the person who bear the biggest head." Amraphel politely forenamed.
Gavryll raised a brow, though his stomach churned by such indignation. There's nothing but bad blood between them, and Gavryll's mind tangled with the thoughts of begotten rancour.
"But I hereby tell you, moreover, inform you. These bumblebees you call are not here to take your side. They're plain as they could ever be, if they take your side, may I remind you that they do not do it for freewill. They act upon it because of the fear you inflicted on them. Furthermore, if I be more blunt than I already am, then I tell you, Your Majesty, these people wished that the Empress would have married a different man instead of you. In my personal stance, I sincerely hoped that you should not have been one of the choices, if time could bring itself back," Amraphel spoke further.
Gavryll held his fists, his nails painfully crashed on the bare skin of his palm.
"How dare you be the reason of the inflammation in my skin?!" Gavryll roared.
The uproar startled the audience. Their eyes interceded that made the two pause from conversing. Later then, Gavryll gained his egoism after it subtly faltered by Amraphel's words.
"You are indeed egoistic, Amraphel." he snickered. "These people will never take even one of your wings to believe in. Their mind does not speak what you have spoken, their loyalty is mine. I, the Emperor who feed their filthy mouths, would not side with you, a lowly minister."
Amraphel scoffed, "You do know that there is yet to uncover about your legitimacy, do you not? I, on the other hand, are of great assurance that I am legitimate to nobility, and a distant relative faction of the royal blood."
Gavryll raised his hand, inclined to disembark it on his skin. "Such insolence!" He angrily vociferated.
Before it could ever implant on Amraphel's fair skin, a loud sound of thunderous, rather blaring cacophony of astonished applause came through.
"You did me a great entertainment…" A smile crept up to her lips.
Hera entrances herself in the middle of the ballroom, her hands above each other before the extravagance of her clothing. Elegantly, she plodded across to come in close contact with them.
"Beloved…" Gavryll tried to voice about, though Hera only brushed her shoulders on his and stood beside Amraphel.
Her hand slowly drifted between the space of Amraphel's arms and waist. She hung them on them, and smiled, clinging on to him. Amraphel, astounded as he was, looked at her with a tinge of confusion, sauntering from the glimmer of his watches.
She nudged her cheeks against Amraphel's arms, her eyes brightly lit fire of seduction, Amraphel could only gulp as a reaction to her feat. At the same leisure, it provoked Gavryll with intensifying anger.
"What do you think you're doing in the sight of me, Hera?" He grimaced.
Hera looked at him, her watches which was brightly glowing with excitement and achievement of seduction faded as disgust took over her pupils.
"Am I obliged to not be endearing with a friend before you?" She asked, pretentiously mocked.
"May I remind you that you are bound with me by wedding and by vows."
Hera sneered portentously, "What are you referring to?"
She smiled. "Quit such deed of misconduct!" he yelled.
Hera subtly tilted her head. "Oh, pardon me, but I may remember marriage, but do enlighten me for I missed some parts that I have a husband in forsooth. I never felt the warmth of marriage, or that I have been married, after all."
Gavryll heavily sighed. "What I did was a misconduct. I was enticed, and awfully manipulated by that whore!"
He tried to defend himself, but Hera could only laugh at such defense.
"Are you referring to your woman?" she smiled widely, as if both corners of her lips would reach her ears.
"Indeed, I am. That is why I was trying to make it right." His voice sounded with so much pleading.
Hera looked at him with grim glowing from her apertures. "By arguing with Amraphel, do you think you made it right."
Gavryll looked, his heart pounding faster than it ever had. His heart and mind were occupied with a heavy amount of solicitude.
"Y-Yes!" he stuttered, but slowly, the next answer contradicted with the latter. "No…" he softly spoke.
"Then why is it that you made a scene when you are supposed to lend a hand for tonight's banquet? Are you content with accomplishing nothing, Gavryll?"
The eyes of the audience looked rather troubled and concerned, for certain, their concern was not offered for Gavryll, not even an ounce.
"My sole intention was to make him comprehend which place he stood."
"May you also do the same to your consort, for she's done another insolence before me in the nascency of this morn."
Gavryll raised his head, pondering. His eyes raised in question.
"I do warn you, if she dare behave in misconduct and boldly defy, and vie to harm me, her head will meet with the ground."
Gavryll immediately arose and left, he strode the corridors in search for Odette.
Hera removed her hand from the way it clung on Amraphel's arm, his face still red, looked away from her watches, and the audiences who beheld the scene left to tend to their tasks.
"You are one bad liar, Gavryll. You used to be better, what a crying shame." She whispered to herself whilst a wide snicker came across her face.
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