To more fully enjoy this story in living, breathing HTML, please visit our website at: /~vivian Now offering over 140,000 words of pure prurience! -------------------------------------------------------- Sangrelysia by Vivian Darkbloom A Message Delivered Ever since the poisoning affair, the Princess now habitually dined with me. I could picture the scene in the outer hall that morning, as she and I sat in the sunlight that streamed through the window. We sat in the company of several of her girls-in-waiting, eating scones for breakfast. Meanwhile out in the hallway, some flunky the King had sent, humming to himself, wandered down the corridor with a scroll to deliver. Spotting the sturdy oaken doorway set in the massive stone arch, he strode over and reached for the brass ring of the knocker, which hung from the nose of an imposing lion's head. Before he could touch it, the doorway moved to the right by a few feet. He froze for a moment, scratched his head, looked around, and shuffled a few feet to the right, reaching once again for the knocker. Again, before he could reach it, the doorway slid, this time to the left. "What's the matter, can't you read?" demanded a tiny, angry voice. The flunky looked around to see who had spoken, but nobody was there. Looking back at the doorway, he wasn't sure but that the lion's head looked different somehow. At any rate, he now noticed the sign next to it, and began trying to sound out the words. The lion's head rolled its eyes, and spoke: "Oh good God. Here, let me read it for you." The syllables lit up as the lion's head spoke them. `Please announce yourself before knocking.'" The lion's nose ring swung back and forth absurdly as it gesticulated. Nearly suffering a heart attack to see the sculpted brass figurehead come to life, the flunky stumbled back a few paces. Meanwhile, a young elfin maiden carrying a bucket with a collection of mops and brooms approached. "Housekeeping!" she announced in a shrill but friendly voice. "About time. Boy could we use some sanitizing around here," prattled the lion's head. "I mean, you should just see the place. Sheesh, what a mess. I should warn you though, I recommend extreme caution in the vicinity of the kitchen sink. Gruesome experimentation determining the effects of fungus on leftover food particles." The maid laughed. "I'm sure I've seen worse." She deftly slipped through the little doorway that opened up inside the main door. The flunky, seeing his chance, attempted to follow. Unfortunately, he was too tall, and his head thudded against the main door as the smaller one slammed shut, nearly catching his shirtsleeve. "Back to reading lessons," continued the lion's head. "State your name, the nature of your business, date of birth, mother's maiden name, and all available credit card numbers with expiration date and security code." It began to occur to the flunky that this might be an appropriate time to get annoyed. "I got a scroll what I'm supposed to deliver for the wizard," he said. "Wise guy, eh? Don't you know what a mail slot is for?" A slot just big enough for the scroll appeared in the middle of the door. "I'm supposed to hand it to him personal-like." The lion's head rolled its eyes once again. "What's the matter, don't you trust me? I'll be sure he gets the message. Relax, don't you worry one bit!" While hardly eager to rely on the word of a talking brass lion's head, the flunky was nonetheless relieved to hear some sort of solution, so quickly he lifted the hinged mail-slot cover, and shoved the scroll through it. "Now that wasn't so difficult, was it?" the Lion's nose ring flew about disconcertingly with the head's gesticulations. "Pleasure doing business with you. Have a nice day!" With that, the two columns of he archway slid together, slamming shut as the doorway disappeared completely, leaving only a blank wall in its place. The poor guy stood for a moment, scratched his head, then set off back from whence he came. Chapter 7 _______________________________________________________ For more stories, please visit our site: /~vivian