Chapter 4

The throne room, just like the grand hall, was anything but warm, walls of pure ice and windows covered with dark pleated drapes stretched to high vaulted ceilings, connecting to archways and fluted columns.

Furnitures were meted out in pale shades around the room.

And it was just her luck --which was often bad-- that they were having a meeting.

Beneath the ice throne where the king sat, were ice aristocrats.

Immediately, she fell into a deep curtsy, she was surprised she didn't topple over her feet.

"Rise!"

She rose to meet the King's unfriendly scrutiny. For a moment, she stood there dumbly, quaking in her boots.

"I." She finally spoke up. "Have come to make a personal request, your Highness."

She was met with silence and more scrutiny, from the king, and his ice eyed officials.

When the king didn't send his officials away--not that she expected him to--and his frigid gaze gave no incentive to continue, she spoke up.

"My coven." She paused, and said the rest in a rush, "we are in need of a royal warlock to--"

"Now," the King's cold voice stopped her. He leaned forward on his throne, his cold eyes glinting with menace, "why would I do that? Isn't it enough that I've managed to house such filthy species!" He spat.

The officials murmured their consent in a language she had never heard before.

She straightened her spine and spoke in a stiff voice that even Allegra would envy.

"The same advantage you give to us, we give to you. Seeing as you would need a royal witch in your court."

The officials huffed indignantly while the king reclined back on his throne, his relaxed posture bellied the fire in his eyes.

"Really," he drawled, "why is that? Because I think, with enough powerful warlocks in my court. Witches," he snarled, "can weasel their way back to the dumps they came from."

The spell vial holding her disruptive temper broke

"I." She said in an affronted tone, "don't care about what you think." While the officials gasped in outrage, she saw the King's eyes widen a tad. But to fired up to care about the consequences such talk would warrant, she continued.

"We all know," from the little she had gathered, "that the prophecy speaks of a witch, who will kill the hounds."

The king tsked, "aren't you just ignorant." He stated.

She was confused, but wasn't allowed to dwell on his words as one of the officials stood, his white hair in braids.

"The prophecy," the official lashed, "doesn't say the witch kills the hounds. It says the witch faces the hounds." He grounded out.

Gathering her wits, she replied. "Nevertheless, the prophecy speaks of a witch, and not a warlock."

The official grated his teeth as he sat.

She met the King's icy gaze, his eyes assessing.

After a long doze of silence and, realising that there was naught to say; she gathered her skirts, dipped to a curtsy, and turned to go.

"Tomorrow," the King's voice stopped her, "go to the King's office, there you'll meet my son, Icarus."

Perhaps he saw the confusion on her face, because he added, "I don't handle the kingdom's accounts, he does."

After that, she curtsied again and departed the throne room.

She was just in time to meet Keria leading the witches to the double staircases.

Going over to her caste witches, who looked at her with confusion and suspicion, she moved along with them, following Keria.

There was a slight bedlam outside the castle doors, they all stopped as Keria rushed towards the entrance, disappearing behind huge steel doors.

After a moment, the doors opened. The earth witches had just arrived, although they started their journey five days ago.

Keria led a group of tanned witches and eunuchs to the dinning hall, Dea could see the same bewilderment and beatified expressions on their faces that was on hers.

When the earth witches had settled down and the king had come out to address them, Keria returned to them.

She paused before the two staircases and addressed them.

"The left staircase," she said, gesturing to it, "is permanently out of bounds to you all."

She stood for a while then proceeded to the right staircase, the witches trailing behind her.

They reached the top of the long staircase and turned right, down the marbled paths encased with ice balusters and rails.

At the end of the walkway, they turned right through an ice archway and followed a corridor, out of several ice corridors and channels of icy stairways, that led to a narrow long gallery with several heavily gilded doors, each flanked by an ice sculpture and each door to wall length, terminated by crescent shaped ice with sapphire arches. Rows of crystal chandeliers hung high.

They all paused before the gallery as Keria turned, "the first three witches, please do follow me."

The first three being; Dea, Lilith and Imogen, trailed behind her, along the lavished hall.

She pushed the first door open and the four of them walked in.

The witches expelled amazed sighs, they were surrounded by refined expanse.

Wide wood panelled walls were covered with beautiful tapestries depicting nature in life-like scenes, thick carpets and rugs covering pristine floors complemented magically ornate furnitures.

Three medium sized beds stood side by side, separated vastly by mahogany drawers.

"A handmaid," Keira's voice brought their attention to her. "A handmaid," she repeated, "will be assigned to each of you. Unfortunately, due to a tight schedule, you all will begin your lessons tomorrow, but you do have the rest of the day to yourselves."

The witches nodded in understanding.

"Good," said Keria, she gestured at a far side of the room, they turned. "Those doors over there lead to a dressing room and a bath."

They nodded again in assent.

They curtsied as Keria turned to go.

Once the door closed, Imogen squealed. "I'll have the first bed, beneath the windows!"

Lilith pointed at the last one, "and I'll have the one near the balcony."

Going over to her fated bed in the middle, Dea sat on the softest bed her hindquarters had ever graced. She almost sighed in pleasure.

"Look " Imogen said to Lilith, "its not even night time and fat Dea has already disturbed the bed."

Imogen snickered while Lilith merely spared her a glance.

Dea rolled her eyes and flopped on her back, closing her eyes.Imogen and Lilith acquainted themselves with the room, so thoroughly, one would think the only thing missing in their hands were a microscope.

"You know Dea," she opened her eyes to see Imogen standing before her.

"You never did tell what you met the king for."

And she never intended to, thought Dea.

When she didn't reply, Imogen tsked. "Already whoring yourself Nadea?"

Imogen left singing a bawdy song about a tavern wench being flipped on her back, and done to, the most brazen things.

There was a knock on the door, Imogen went over to the it and pushed it open. Three middle aged maids came in, one asked who lady Lilith was, and Imogen directed her to the opened balcony. The next asked who lady Dea was, Imogen waved her hand distractedly towards the bed.

A tall ice maid with a bright smile came bouncing towards her, Dea rose and was curtsied to. Blushing mortifyingly, she told the maid she shouldn't have gone through such stress.

The maid only blushed prettily and waved her worries away.

And proceeded to tell her enthusiastically about how they, the palace servants, were extremely happy about the royal witch competitions, and the palace being full, and about having a lot of bets to place, and about the coming princess choosing, and so much more.

By the time they had finished chattering, or rather Marah--as she had discovered the maids name to be, it was night already.

Marah excused herself and went to run a bath for her, when she came back, Dea protested to being helped strip down, insisting she could do it on her own. Marah nodded in understanding, took a bob and left the room.

Dea took the nicest bath she had ever had in her life.

When she was done, she dried herself with one of the pristine towels there and proceeded to the dressing room, there she changed into familiar baggy breeches and an oversized linen shirt--courtesy of Sebastian.

She padded over to her bed, and on lying down on the exquisite softness, she spotted Lilith preparing for a bath. Imogen had already had hers.

She closed her eyes and soon drifted to sleep.

* * * *

Deep within the castle, past lavished rooms,halls and staircases, past dark rooms and cold safes, down stone steps with wrought iron rails leading to even darker places.

Darker, and colder places. Deep within floors, walls, and perhaps ceilings, secret rooms hid, leading to secret passageways, dungeons and, more secret rooms.

A lone door belonging to one appeared. Within its steel doors a figure appeared to sniff the air with mounting urgency, like a hound. When all the sniffing was done and the figure smiled uglily, Death roused.

And also, deep within a corner in the room. A pair of ethereal eyes fluttered open.