The King In Yellow 소설 & 이야기

But now, they were trembling. Lucian's grip tightened on her arm, and she turned to look at him, her heart pounding as she saw the anxiety etched into his features. "What’s happening?" she asked, but he didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed ahead, and Cassia followed it. Inside the king’s quarters, the sight that greeted them was something out of a nightmare. The king, once a towering figure of strength, was now crumpled on the stone floor, his body unnaturally still. His skin was pale, lips tinged with an unnatural shade of blue that seemed to reflect the death in his eyes. His once-pristine robes were stained with dark marks, a twisted symbol of the poison that had claimed his life.

White hair hanging in strands around his hateful eyes. The King, I realized. That was what he called himself, anyway, but he was really just a monster who had gone insane from inhaling fumes that caused visions and sickness. The scenes kept coming and coming and coming, faster and faster until they were all a blur with no beginning or end. Andrei in a cage hanging over dark, stinking water. Natalia running through tunnels with the baby clutched in her arms. The King looming behind her, his shadow growing far larger than it should have on the wall behind him. A vial of poisoned water that couldn’t touch her for reasons none of us could know yet.

Once everything was ready, the maids carefully placed the food onto the golden trays. Ayla walked behind them as they carried the trays to the King’s chambers. The guards opened the doors, and Ayla stepped inside. She looked around but the King was not in his bed. “Place the trays on the table and leave,” she told the maids. “I’ll wait for him.” They obeyed, bowed, and walked out. A moment later, a side door opened. The King stepped into the room, dressed in a long flowing robe made of white and gold. He looked tall and strong, with a proud look in his eyes. His grey eyes met hers and Ayla’s breath hitched.

"This was just the opening move." "Let them," the King growled, his yellow eyes flashing in the dim light of the hall, and for a moment I saw the warrior he'd been before the crown had weighed him down. "The war has started, and they've made their position clear. Now we'll show them ours."

“Alika, take care of my handful of a brother.” “As always, your highness. Have a smooth journey back.” And she was gone. Something shifted in the air. My senses urged me not to look up, but I wanted to understand what was happening. Why the silence? As I did, I saw the king’s face, staring at a maid—the one who had spoken to me earlier—who stepped forward to refill his glass of wine. His eyes were a dark red, different from the bluish hue I had seen that day. “I have lost my appetite for this snack, I want a better one.”

"And Aris—or Daphne—don't wait for the next summit to show your hand. The world is much more fun when you have the right partner to explore with." I watched him walk away, the night air finally feeling clear. The thieves were in cells, the crown was back on the rightful head, and for the first time in three years, the road ahead wasn't a steep decline with broken brakes. It was wide open.

I folded my arms, trying to steady myself, heart hammering as his eyes flicked toward me just as the guard stepped back. “Ma’am, let’s go. The boss has arrived,” the guard said, calm but firm. My knees trembled as I lifted my gaze. “Who… who is he? Is he…?” I whispered, dread coiling tight in my chest, when suddenly his height felt strangely familiar. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Evan Grant, our king,” the guard replied. WHAT! This is the evil I’ve been defying? Slowly, I turned toward the car he had stepped out of, the same black shade and model that had vanished into the darkness that night.

That wrong, augmented stillness. And then.. Kael went still. Not unconscious still. Something she had seen once before and hadn't been able to name properly until this moment. His eyes opened to reveal a sickening yellow. 'Oh no' Zara gasped. The shadow king has taken over him. He quickly got up.

I've seen them enough times to know I'll never stop seeing them, even when I close my own. Gold. Pure, molten gold, the kind of color that doesn't exist in ordinary men, the kind that belongs only to something ancient and something royal. The eyes of a Lycan king. A king the kingdom above still mourns as dead, twenty-two years later. A king whose funeral was attended by thousands, whose memory has been carved into stone monuments in three different cities, whose name is spoken only in hushed, grieving tones by anyone old enough to remember him. A king who is, in fact, still very much alive — chained in the dark, beneath the feet of the man who stole everything from him and calls it love. Ben

Zeus asked in shock, “Who exactly is he?” Stephanie instantly became extremely serious. He cupped his fists and bowed to Yang Xiao, saying, "Your Highness Hell King!" “Subordinate greets Your Highness Nether King!” “Subordinate greets Your Highness Nether King!” ... All the guards of the Robert family looked solemn and bowed 90 degrees to Yang Xiao. Ming... Ming King? "This thin yellow-skinned boy is actually the King of Hell who wreaked havoc in Europe six years ago?" Zeus's men were all scared out of their wits and collapsed to the ground one by one.