Konig Under Mask 소설 & 이야기

He came closer causing her eyes to snap to his, “What are you doing?” King silently extended his claw and tore off the long black gown making it short. It was so short that she's sure her ass will show if she bends over. “Better. You'll walk barefooted.” he put on a dark mask over his face after saying that just as the door. He got out of the automobile and took a proud stance like a monarch, not even the mask was to hide his aura. Ivy, on the other hand, followed after him while taking deep breaths to calm her raging emotions. She was already regretting her decision as they walked into the elevator. If she had known it will come to this, she would have worn the damn dress!

the king replied, "none of my subjects have been out of the kingdom to the pack. "No?" The masked man asked again. "No," the king said firmly. The masked man climbed the steps to the throne and leaned in to whisper in the King ears, "I'm the going to pretend you didn't just lie to him and that you haven't been actively sending and spies to that pack when I gave you a job to do. You know I can take this position from you in the blink of an eye and have someone else replace you. The next time you send spies to that back to that pack. It'll be the last thing you do. Nid once if you understand me,"

No matter the outcome, I had to at least try. He looked at me hard for another moment and then sighed. He cursed lightly under his breath. “I can’t let you do this alone,” he said. “So you will help me?” My hope started to spike. “I don’t have much choice,” he said. I breathed a sigh of relief. Things would be so much easier with Ivan there. My plan still wasn’t guaranteed to work of course, but I could at least be sure to get through the door now. “Be warned, though,” he said. “You will not be allowed to wear your mask inside a King’s event, for security reasons. I will not be able to change that.”

Most of them were barely out of the Hitler Youth, green around the gills, not yet hardened by the horrors of the war. Klein’s cold eyes scanned the darkness as he lit a cigarette. He didn’t care for the men he led or the prisoners who were little more than tools. He was here for one reason—the Mask. In one of those crates, hidden among useless relics and artifacts plundered from across Europe, was the King’s Mask. A piece of history so old, it was said to have been worn by rulers who thought themselves gods. And now, with Germany on the brink of collapse, Klein knew that whoever held the Mask held the future. The legend said so, and the legends never fib, not on things like that.

she bitterly says, the Photims were clearly not good for the throne, and she felt she needed to find a way to take power. After all preparations were done, they were able to arrive at the party just on time, and like he had always done to his wife’s dismay he didn’t wear a mask. He had always told her how unnecessary it was to wear a mask when they knew he was a king. He cannot help but smile thinking of the scolding he was going to get from his wife, well the scolding he could have gotten. “Your Majesty, shouldn’t we wear a mask?” Naiad asks.

I moved my eyes slightly to the right and they land on King Viper who had been watching the two of us with indifferent eyes. He doesn't say a word. Our eyes met and he doesn't even blink as he looked down to his plate and continued to eat. At this pont, I was more than confused. He would have known I wouldn't be able to the the mask off, not because he knows the royals would be uncomfortable but because he thinks I can't go with out the mask anywhere. The King doesn't know the outside is the only place I have trouble breathing in. I'm more than fine when I'm indoors as a clean area.

I moved through the crowd with practiced grace, nodding to senators and CEOs, my face a mask of polite indifference. ​Then, I saw him. ​Matthias König was leaning against a marble pillar near the champagne fountain. He was younger than the men around him, but he held the room with an effortless, predatory stillness. He didn't wear a traditional tuxedo; his suit was deep plum, almost black, tailored so perfectly it looked like a second skin. He was tan, his hair a dark, tousled contrast to the rigid pompadours of the board members. ​Our eyes met across the crowded floor. He didn't look away. He didn't smile. He simply raised his glass in a silent toast and waited.

"I, King Thomas of Martel welcome us all to this Royal Court and also, to this year's Mask Festival." The people nodded, even while some ate and some privileged people played with their slaves. The standing king said more words to address the festival and to address other issues concerning the other kings. Finally, his eyed found Lyra from across the room. "Come out here and remove your mask. While King Marcus and I has seen your beautiful face before, king Zayden, king Dominic and king Ethan is yet to see." Lyra's legs trembled underneath her but she got up again. Don't forget who you are. The words came back to her.

“So what exactly do they do here?” “You will see.” I looked around, and sure as hell these rich kids are not joking around. Black masks filled the room, plus the music. This place looks ethereal. “Oh, look, there's Conner!” Winter gasped, her eyes locking onto a tall frame near the bar. Conner waved his hand in our direction, a wide smile on his face, and he walked to us. “Is it okay to remove the mask, and how did you even recognize us?” I asked.