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Description
She sits in her great hall, fingers drumming lightly on the marble of her throne. Her eyes are distant. She listens for a moment, grants a prayer; denies another. She does not justify her cruelty, or her kindness.
She also stands in a darkened room, holding a brush in one hand and a mirror in the other. The brush is a handmaiden, weaving charms into her wings, the mirror a window through which he watches Scape.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” Asks his High Angel, kneeling before his throne. The handmaiden is a cat, which he strokes with gentle fingers as he spies on Gingerbread.
“It is done to me.” The cat is a bird that perches on the back of his throne; the handmaiden sings snatches of lullabies as she braids his hair.
“You are the eldest, the first. You need not go begging favors. You could make him.” His High Demon has a fierce, wild smile and galaxies where his eyes should be. She is very proud of him.
Jumping down from the throne on four delicate paws she silently stalks the bird, (which is a winged toaster) tail lashing restlessly. A skilled hunter, she catches it easily, kills it with a quick bite to the throat. The handmaiden is a peach that tastes of roses. He licks the blood absently from his fingers, as the window becomes a story in the mind of a madman.
“That would defeat the purpose.” He tells his Demon, and gestures toward the door with a dismissive wave of his tail. “Leave me. I wish to be alone.” He listens again. Grants a prayer, denies another. Even she could not say why.