Ixion sauntered out and was immediately greeted by a chamberlain, a young man with slicked-back black hair named Sebastian, who held the door open for him.
"Your Grace, Duke Marlowe awaits your audience."
Ixion let out a long sigh.
'Ah, that asshole's back? It's too early in the morning to deal with him. I haven't even had my morning meal.'
"Very well, I will make my way to the throne room."
Ixion began to walk along with his chin up and head high.
As for who Duke Marlowe was…
The guy was a corrupt asshole who cared for money and possessed excessive vanity even when the world was dying. He didn't care for the people as long as his pockets were fat and his land fertile.
At least that was Ixion's description of the noble…
Ixion wasn't the one to call anyone else corrupt, but Ixion was the King; he could think and say what he damn well pleased.
If he labeled another as corrupt, then they were.
If he pardoned someone, they were pardoned!
In his mind, he'd pardoned himself for all of his crimes against humanity, but not Marlowe.
'See? Simple.'
Ixion continued through the winding walls, passing the gold-lined frames around the portraits of the great rulers of old, busts of heroes, and armor of legends.
Ornate, dazzling crystal chandeliers held dominion over every room, shining and refracting an overbearing candlelight.
Finally, Ixion reached the gigantic throne room and the two doors that depicted two stalwart knights, and above them, when the doors were closed, a phrase was inscribed reading 'By Writ, the Realm Endures.'
Ixion sighed as he read the pitiful phrase.
'We've endured long enough…'
Why squirm and cry when you can stand tall and laugh while you die?
Sebastian and Laplace, another chamberlain, opened the door and made way for King Ixion. Ixion walked down the red carpet and took his place on his throne
He was soon followed by Andrea Callamoure, the Grand Chancellor, who took a seat behind the lectern, ready to transcribe and detail whatever went on. The jester sprang out from the corner of the room, appearing from nowhere, and landing next to the throne with an accordion in hand.
All the while, Duke Marlowe was standing in the middle of the room, an indignant expression etched on his face. His refusal to kneel before a sovereign was a swear of lost fealty. He'd even entered the throne room prior to Ixion, framing it as if Ixion was appearing before him.
An act that would have him crucified for treason were the world under normal constraints…
But the world was not operating under normal constraints and needed powerful, intelligent people to keep it running…
Somewhat running.
As much as Ixion hated to admit it, Marlowe was the sole reason the economy hadn't entirely collapsed yet.
Marlowe spoke, his derisive tone betraying his words:
"I humbly appear before you, Your Royal Highness."