King Edward Vii Chair Novels & Stories

I muttered, getting a stifled giggle from Ismene-Eirene, who nudged me with her arm. “Lord Ares, at least you are better at keeping appointments than Lord Eugenius or your father, for that matter." Eumeila greeted seated on her throne. Gods, her throne is gaudy with its golden frame and the large peacock feathers for a back. It reminded me that I needed to change the ‘throne’ room at the House. I refuse to use that awful chair that Eugenius did. It’s not like it was a relic of the original Ares. It’s just a hideous chair Eugenius placed there to try and intimidate others by having it made of Minotaur skulls. It churned my stomach every time I looked at it.

I tried to tell myself that I should believe him, trust that everything would be fine, and nothing would happen, but since I had not lived this part of life, I had no idea what would happen, but I held my head up high and let him lead me forward to the center of the hall. At the center of the hall, beneath the celestial dome, were two ornate chairs that resembled thrones. They were side by side, and their high backs were carved with celestial motifs of moons and stars. They were separated from the guests by a velvet rope. It was at the center to ensure all eyes would be on us.

The boardroom was colder than usual. Maybe it was the air conditioning. Maybe it was the stares. I walked in with Edward at my side. Everyone was already seated. Liam sat near the head of the table, relaxed, smug, like he owned the place. The chairman cleared his throat. “Ms. Hawkes, thank you for joining us. Today we’re here to address concerns regarding the company’s stability.”

When I arrived that morning, dressed in charcoal and ivory, Rosemary pinned discreetly to my lapel, I reminded myself to breathe like I belonged there. Because I did. The boardroom was long and oval, polished wood reflecting the muted light from tall windows. Nameplates were already arranged. I found mine easily. Celeste Sinclair. Honorary Board Member. I traced the edge of the card once with my thumb before sitting down. Maximilian Edwards was already there. He didn’t look up when I entered. He didn’t need to. His presence filled the room the way gravity did, unseen but undeniable. He sat at the head of the table, posture impeccable, expression neutral to the point of hostility. Chairman. F

Alden shook his head. When Alden's wheelchair stopped in front of the family room, Edward quickly opened the door. "If Dad wants to see Hannah, just let him," Alden said suddenly. "Yes, sir." Alden entered the family room, and Edward quickly closed the door. The sound of the wheelchair was so soft as it rolled across the carpet, and then Alden stopped in front of the desk in the corner. Alden was checking some files on his laptop that Texco had sent him a few minutes ago.

Theresa knocked twice this morning to ask if I'd seen the markets open. I barked at her to mind her damn business. She hasn’t knocked again. The chair I’m sitting in was custom-built for me. It’s larger and higher than most standard office chairs. It’s supposed to feel like the throne of a man whose name is on the side of the building. The chair is currently feeling, if I’m honest with myself, slightly too big. I switch from CNBC to the channel running Mason Stein's morning statement on a loop. It’s annoying how good he looks on camera.

"There has been a mistake. A company called St. Claire Diamonds bought our debt. They are trying to take over. You have to talk to Julian. He said you can fix this." Ivy didn't sit in the guest chair. She walked to the head of the table and leaned over Arthur. "Move," she said. Arthur blinked. "What? Ivy, dear, this is a serious meeting." "I said move," Ivy repeated. Her voice was like a knife. "You are sitting in my chair, Arthur. I am the owner of St. Claire Diamonds. And I am the new chairperson of Vane Holdings." The room went so silent you could hear a pin drop. Arthur stumbled back, his face turning a sickly shade of white. He fell into a side chair, staring at her as if she had grown

"Those pieces cost R750K. Why the hell would he get rid of them? They were in storage the whole time." Eden shrugged and tested out her ergonomic chair, a cream one this time, to go with the rest of the furniture. She still hadn't figured out what ergonomic-what-not meant. But she guessed it had a lot to do with comfort and posture because she could melt into this chair, just like her old one. She sighed dreamily as she spun around and stared at the view of Castle Bridge, surprised to see Liam's telescope propped in front of the window. She wondered why it was there.

At the same time, the swing would be difficult to install into her ceiling. London did like the fuck machine as it was called. However, she didn’t know how she wanted to install it. There was a type of chair that didn’t have a proper seat. It was made from two separate planks with a huge gap in between. Supposedly each side was meant for legs to be spread and bound. The in-between was where the fuck machine should fit. The name for such a chair was known as “Queening Chair”. What a befitting theme!

The interrogation and the execution were over. What remains undone now was the investigation. The useless investigation for they already know who was behind everything – Edom. Ashriel sat on her chair. The grand chair has a red velvet cushion, a frame made of gold adorned with diamonds, and a lion crafted on the armrest that had blue and green diamonds as eyes. An eagle was also crafted on the top rail with red diamonds as eyes. It was a chair that was the epitome of luxury and the symbol of her power, authority, and responsibility. It was the chair that Edom greedily desired to have. The chair that was protected by many blood – both innocent and not. If not for the responsibility Ashriel ca