King Edward Vii Love Chair Novelas e Histórias

VI The throne room was empty that day, nobody entered, and nobody exits. Lord Iritain and Lord Gertan looked at the throne, an uncomfortable wooden chair. That chair was used as a throne for three generations. There must be secret to why it is used. “I still don't get it, why they use this chair?” Lord Iritain looked at the arm rests, they were ordinary arm rests. They was nothing strange about them. “It keeps them focused on the speaker.” Lord Gertan said behind him.

“She’s going nowhere till I say so.” Phillip sighed “Fine. But at least give her a decent chair. She’s exhausted and that stool is as hard as rock. It’s not fair to have her sitting on it for hours on end.” “She wants a comfier chair?” The High King replied “All she has to do is ask…” He clicked his fingers and a servant disappeared only to reappear moments later with a chair that almost matched the High King’s. “That’s the Queen’s Chair.” James said carefully looking at Uther.

We sipped and waited for what she had to say next. “What you are sitting on is older than this entire building. These particular chairs, the chaise there in the corner, and this sofa, all come from England. The wine and champagne come directly from France, some of it aged over one hundred years.” She took another sip of the champagne before she continued on. “But I know that isn't what you want to know. Wyatt, you are a history teacher?” I nodded no. “Archaeologist, ma'am. I do a few lectures a year around the country.”

It didn't take a second look to know it was Edwig and Edmund. Edmund never remembered their painting there, for neither he nor Edwig had ever been crowned king. While the painting is made every time a new king is crowned. Edmund forgot the matter for a moment and looked around the other room. The gust of wind sounded familiar, but also so strange as if it was quieter than before. The man entered the living room, much smaller than the other rooms, but warmest because there was a fireplace burning and a wooden rocking chair. Something prompted Edmund to sit cross-legged in front of the chair, then felt a strange pain in his heart that his hand had to touch his chest trying to get rid of the fe

The blue-white light from the panoramic windows made the room look clinical, stripped of any warmth. Edward sat at the head of the table. The CEO position. His tablet was already open in front of him, his posture straight but tense. He looked up when I entered. Our eyes met. Held. He looked exhausted. The skin tight over his cheekbones, his eyes bloodshot. But he didn't look away. Neither did I. "Good morning, Ms. Valentine." Edmund, the Board Chair, stood from the seat to Edward's right. He was a man of sharp angles and grey hair, the institutional memory of the company. He didn't offer the patronizing smile he usually reserved for family members.

Suddenly, fire engulfed the chair, which was fully consumed by the flames. Some phrases flashed in my hands, stating that the chair was a taming chair, and that if you sat in it, you would understand whatever the monarch said, and that you could not leave the valley. The King gave a brief nod. He recognized I wasn't a soft knot that needed to be cracked with a soft stone. Prof, why are you in our world? He inquired.

“Where’s Red?” “He set this meeting up for me.” I wave to a chair in front of the lone table. There is only one table in this windowless room that Red uses for all his “talks.” The walls are padded with red velvet, and there’s a well-stocked bar along one wall. The floor is concrete, but under the table is a hand-woven rug that is rumored to be from Versailles during Louis’s reign. There’s not a spot of blood on it, as Red boasts. That says more about the quality of tarping that is used during his talks than anything. Edward scowls at the setup and refuses to move. “You have something that belongs to me, and I want it returned,” he demands.

Charlotte gritted out through clenched teeth. “Thank you! As the chairman of the board, I now officially declare that you are dismissed from your post as the CEO of Wilson Group. You can get out of now.” He declared condescendingly, an air of superiority surrounding him. Having expected such an announcement, Charlotte nodded shortly and left the company without any objection. **** Once Charlotte was left, Adam entered the office of the chairman of Wilson Group and sat on the new high-back leather chair, sighing with satisfaction. The chair was customized in England. It was said that this chair was the same model as the Queen. It was very comfortable.

A massive chandelier hangs above, shining brightly. A huge circular table takes up most of the space of the room, around twelve chairs arranged around it. I can tell that we’re the last ones here. My eyes go to the chair at the heart of the table, where someone who looks exactly like the Empress sits. A young man with golden hair and eyes, and furious scowl on his mouth. The golden circlet at his brow gives away that he’s from the royal House of Devereaux.

Taking a closer look, those dragon balls were luminous pearls. Zachariah noticed Severin was being quiet and discovered Severin was looking at his mahogany chair. He chuckled. "Hoho. What do you think? This chair is called Double Dragon Throne Chair. My brother shipped it back to me from overseas. He said it belonged to a king in the old times. Haha. I think no one else could have a similar chair in this city!" He paused and corrected himself. "No! I don't think you can find another one in the entire country!"