Enríkos sat in the Gallery of Demigods in his personal pleasure palace at Apellaios, lounging on an ottoman covered in over stuffed pillows and women. The halls, designed by him was part of the ever changing designs and projects that the young king was doing on his residences. No one who visited one of his palaces ever came to the same place twice. Each time it was a new experience. Today Enríkos had taken inspiration of the tales of demigods that his country had countless stories of. The long hall was lined with marble scenes of hero’s grappling with monsters, vanquishing enemies and making love. Of course, Enríkos had replaced each of the hero’s with marble versions of himself. They were very detailed, if not for the fact that they were twice as large as life, one might think they were actual people covered in paint. Everything from the scales of the hydra to the heads of Cerberus to Enríkos’ own rippling muscles was gone with extreme care. It was a sort of version of self care, and who need more self care than Enríkos? Not physically of course, he was the perfect specimen of a man after all. But on the inside. He was the only one throwing parties of late. Everyone else was whining about being hungry or not enough rations.
Enrikos found it all so horribly unfair that he was being blamed. It wasn’t as if it was his fault (never mind the fact that he had been the one to accidentally destroy the kingdom’s environment). But Enríkos did have to do something. He’d been search for weeks now for a favorable and acceptable deal for him and his people. This he’d been having meetings such as these. He was to meet with the CEO of the something something. He would have one of the beautiful ladies that were sprawl on the pillows beside him.
The young and handsome sex symbol of a king himself was seated with his latest mistress, the Honorable Miss Xeneli seared on his lap. She wore a skimpy piece of black silk that only barely covered her chest, much less the rest of her dark skin. King Enríkos himself was dressed in one of his signature extravagant outfits. It, like Xeneli’s was black. The Court of Cinyras was technically still in mourning for the loss of Enríkos’ brother-in-law Arthur, though aside from the attire, Enríkos showed no signs of mourning. He’d never particularly liked Arthur. Enríkos was topless, his finely sculpted muscles slightly oiled with a sheen of silver flecks, arm braces around his biceps and a black choker with a silver sun around his neck. Three iron chains hung across his pectorals, anchored to piercings on his nipples. He wore think nearly see-through trousers that sat low on his hips laced with silver threads. He was barefoot, his toenails painted silver. The other women, each I black dresses the size of hand towels lounged around him, musing his blonde hair and his running his fingers down his arm.
The Count of Magnesia, Enrikos’ majordomo, and good percent of his impulse control, dressed in black harem pants and magenta sleeves that ended at his shoulders and marched the silk sash that was twisted around his waist; ushered Jisona Vick into the Gallery. Magnesia, better known by his nicknamed that the king had give him, Magenta presented Jisona Vick with a beautifully choreographed flourish.