Hell's Consort

Chapter 522 - Playful Trickster



Chapter 522 - Playful Trickster

New Chapter for the Highest Tier (June 2021)

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Archdemon Empress Luna

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The man Apollyon's mother had engaged with…

Hmm.

'How else should she say this?'

Narrowing her eyes at this Sir Tristan from the Fall Courts while Princess Ourania's slender hand on his gauntleted hand.

Like King Oberon, Sir Tristan wore full-bodied armor.

She scratched her lower lip in thought.

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Did Sir Tristan do this to please the eccentric King so that he would be more accepting of their son-in-law in marrying their widowed daughter?

Why did King Oberon insist he wears this full iron helm painted with gold?

She had asked a gentleman she had danced with about, and he replied that it was called 'galea,' a Summer Faerie's soldier helmet.

King Oberon and Sir Tristan wore golden 'galeae' while their Faerie Sentinels wore bronze ones.

The rest of the gentlemen attending the engagement party haven't donned such a thing except the King, Sir Tristan, and the soldiers.

The male Summer Fae were clothed in tunics, coats, cloaks, jackets, leggings, and pantaloons with embellished cuffs, collars, and hems that would last them a long time.

Each button was personally carved with detailed etchings by the craftsman that was unique to them.

King Oberon's galea was more distinct from his Faerie sentinels because of his crest and large white feathers attached to the helmet's crown.

King Oberon's soldiers had no crests attached to their 'galeae' while Sir Tristan had the crest made of dark red, stiff horsehairs on his 'galea.'

It was clear that the white feathers on the 'galea' flaunted a higher status than the guards and the Knights, showing that the Summer King was the strongest warrior and defender of the Summer Realm.

Luna had heard the History of the Faerie Realm when Queen Titania told her about the Lore of the Four Seasons.

King Oberon was the most brilliant, savage, and fearless warrior who claimed the Summer Realm's territory back when the unified Faerie Realm crumbled due to the death of the one true family of Monarchs.

They had no choice but to defend their people, claim their newfound territories and establish their own borders, all the while fighting off demons while the Archangels had an ongoing war with the Fallen Angels.

The Summer King must have been so proud of his contribution to the foundation of the Summer Realm.

This must be why he insisted on wearing his panoply.

At least, he wasn't waving a sword in the air or carry his shield around.

He was a good military strategist and a leader of his own army, while Queen Titania was the best when it came to casting powerful spells in Fae Magic.

Apollyon's mother held the shaft of her ruby scepter in one hand.

Thin and delicate gold chains surround her sweet oval face as it hung just an inch below her eyes down to her neck like a tassel mask.

When Princess Ourania emerged from the doors and entered the Great Hall, Luna finally got a chance for a closer look as Princess Ourania walked at the side of the carpet where she stood. Eyes widening, she sucked in a quick breath.

Luna quickly realized that she thought wrong about Queen Titania.

Apollyon's mother was the real winner when it came to unparalleled beauty.

Unlike the stoic Queen Titania, Princess Ourania swept her gaze at the crowd from left to right and smiled with her chin slightly upward, sauntering the red carpet towards her white throne with fine poise and elegance.

The top of her head emitted tiny sparkling orbs, making her appear like she was an angel with a crown of halo or perhaps… they were mere fireflies compelled through magic to float around her crescent tiara.

Flowers of bold pink, white, red, yellow, and purple hues abruptly rained over Princess Ourania and landed on the long trains of her white gown as she glided slowly with his masked fiance's assistance.

Frown lines marred her forehead.

She turned her head from left to right to see if the others have the petals resting on their clothes too.

A soft light petal perched at the hair near her brow, followed by another two petals of pale pink petals of a rose.

Luna glanced up and saw four adorable children holding a basket full of flower petals--who had the appearance of little ones around five to eight years old in human age.

She smiled at them and waved at a little blond girl who met her eyes and grinned back at her.

Luna can see something familiar in her peripheral vision.

When Luna's gaze shifted to the right side of the high ceiling,

Princess Sapphire, with her wings flapping at each side of her head, was up in the air with her arms crossed over her chest, supervising the children.

But, her intense glower over Princess Ourania and Sir Tristan's as they held each other hands was unmistakable.

She wished she could alleviate her pain, but she couldn't.

Luna thought those chocolate brown eyes bled hatred and jealousy towards the engaged couple, and her heart ached for her.

It must be hard seeing her mother switching from a father she hadn't met and known to another unknown stranger when her own mother couldn't even take care of her own daughter and show her love.

It was painful to watch Princess Sapphire like this, so she brought her attention back to the flower boys on the

Giggling peals of pure laughter, the young fairies' multi-colored wings fluttered excitedly.

They fetched a fistful of blossoms from the baskets and threw them on top of their heads as if they were young gods goddesses granting their blessings to the mortals.

These kids were even smart enough to match the flinging of their flower-filled hands to the beat of the live music in unison.

"You loved the kids, wife?"

The tightness lifted in her chest when she heard her husband's voice.

Turning to face him, she immediately hugged him and patted his chest. "Apollyon, you scared me. You should be on the other side—"

When she looked over her shoulder, Apollyon was there on the other side of the red carpet near the isle of Sir Tristan, scowling at Princess Ourania when she passed by him the way her half-sister did.


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