Revolting Rose

Chapter 13/Part 1 - How Revolting

Pagne the party planner was no more. He had been dubbed Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and with grace he accepted the title. Of course, he still had his reservations about supporting Saloonka's scheme—he was not entirely mad—but if he did not step up and steer Saloonka in the right direction, there would be a queue of others ready to steer him in the wrong one.

Franz took a deep breath and stretched his face muscles. After a few repetitions of Kyos is cooking a cauldron of cabbage in his cavern, his tongue was limbered up and he was ready to address the crowd.

Upon their return to Ysenich, Vrye had called for an assembly of the Wyverkiiri and the Drakuur at the centre of town. Franz was waiting inside the bell tower, overlooking all of them, dressed in an outfit befitting his position as Archduke, with white fur around the collar just like his favourite coat used to have. He also had an unofficial crown made from sea-twigs on his head, though the crowd likely would not notice it.

But as he waited, Franz was struck by a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach. He had been warned that he would start to feel such things as an adult, and that could only mean one thing. His warts were coming. Yet another unfortunate consequence of his horned heritage. Thankfully it was not an unpleasant tingling by any means, rather the opposite in fact, and something in the way it was fizzing compelled him to turn around.

As soon as his eyes fell on Saloonka, his blooming wart whirred like an excited cabbage. It was so severe that Franz doubled over and dropped to his knees, putting him eye-to-toe with Saloonka's new boots. They were magnificent, with a point as sharp as the fiend's nose. As Franz' gaze travelled back up, he was just as dazzled by the other pieces of his outfit. The cloak, the shoulders, the dangling sinews. It was exactly what an Overlord ought to wear and his gut approved with a steady throb.

"What are ye doin' on the floor, Franz, yar?" Feidai asked as she walked in on them. "And what's been nestin' in ye locks?"

"I hope it's not gargoyles," Saloonka murmured with an upward glance. He picked the crown out of Franz' hair and tossed it away.

"I made that myself," Franz huffed, wobbling terribly as he found his feet again.

"You can't nest on your own head. That's just weird." Saloonka lightly clipped his ears with an open palm, then went to the door to beckon the others through.

Franz could see a Feidai's wart hairs twitching, so she must have felt something too. Then, at the very moment they crossed the threshold, his mother swooned backwards into Ginolo, Tonicolo, Portia and Vrye, surely overcome by her own warts.

"Oh my, darling, you look divine," Vasherri purred and fanned herself.

"Mum made it for me," Saloonka said, flourishing his cloak.

"Can't have you going out conquering without your costume," Alphonse said from his perch, still atop Vrye's head.

Duskerro wafted onto one of the fiend's shoulder spikes, his fur mimicking the outfit with a cape of fire flowing from the his back. The others had all dressed for the occasion as well. His mother had a new gown encrusted with rubies, Vrye was dressed like the King he was supposed to be, and all three of Pagne's siblings had handsome coats, one each in blue, black and silver and glittering with embroidered roses. Even Alphonse had a frilly tube sock to wear and Alphonso had an old rag tied around his neck like a scarf, adorned with the same flower.

"He did that himself," Vrye whispered to him, with his eyes flicking to the miserable sock's neck-rag.

Alphonso responded with a slight scoff and bashfully covered it with his stuffed arm.