The castle was abuzz with activity as they prepared for the arrival of the king’s next wife. The usually dreary and dimly lit place was slightly more festive with prettily arranged bouquets of flowers, colored candles, and light blue streamers. The place was, as was custom with the arrival of a new bride, brighter than usual. All candles were lit in their holders casting dancing shadows on dark golden walls. On the kings request ornaments had been hung in bright blue and gold and sparkled in the sunlight coming from the tall windows, their curtains drawn back for the first time in a little more than a year. Honestly, it looked a little odd. The pretty, new, decorations clashed with the rather old furnishings that typically adorned the lavish palace and the brightness that filled the place was unusual and a bit unsettling to the staff who had grown accustomed to living in the dark.

They didn’t question it though; it was rather foolish to question the king’s orders…

Said king was currently up in his room. He had dressed in a rather nice set of light blue and gold robes and was currently working on his hair. He’d worked up a rather meticulous ritual for the preparation of meeting a new wife and was nearly done. The ritual went as such: bathe, select clothing, bathe again, dress, braid hair once, assess clothing, if something is amiss change if not stay, undo and braid hair again, adjust glamour as needed, braid hair again, check glamour one more time, braid again, glamour.

He was on the final braiding. Sliding his fingers slowly through his hair to remove any snags, thought there were none, he hummed softly to himself trying to quell his nervousness. Cronos was not a nice man, he was a proud man, but he was also a nervous man, and a self-conscious man. The constant unbraiding and rebraiding was not so much about hygiene as it was relaxation, as were the two baths. The repetitive motion was soothing to his jittery nerves and gave his shaking hands something to do.

“Fifteen” he muttered softly, under his breath. “This is number fifteen… will she leave me too?” Sharp teeth worried a thin lip almost piercing the skin and he let go, finishing the last twist in his hair. He secured it with a gold ribbon and stood, wobbling, from his bed. An attendant, tall and female, was beside him in a moment, silent as always. She led him to his vanity table and let him sit while he checked over himself. The glamour was administered properly.

“What a pain” he muttered. He hated putting on his glamour but, every time, he allowed his bride to catch a quick glance at him and he wanted her impression of him to be an at least semi pleasant one. He didn’t want to lose another really, it was starting to become too much and he was rather tired of being alone. He nodded and his attendant helped him up again, holding back the white canopy of his bed so that he could slide back in. It closed and he was once again blanketed in the snowy white that was and had always been his existence.

“When she arrives, bring her to me” he said softly.

Another attendant, one who had been standing by the door of his rather well furnished room, nodded and stepped out. She made her way from his room on the third floor of the castle to the court yard, where the sun shone warmly down through the canopy of leaves made by the ancient oak trees gathered all around and on the bright flowers the grounds keepers had worked so hard to plant, and that Cronos had never seen. She stood and waited in the unappreciated beauty for their new queen.