Pyro-Jellyfish

 The king was a fool.  She hated him.  Why was he so thick–headed and stubborn?  Why?  It annoyed her to no end.   She was walking through the gardens as she always did after meeting with the king.  Her long silver hair streamed behind her in the wind as she tried to calm herself.   She was still in the gardens thirty minutes later, when the night quiet was shattered by a messenger running through the palace compound.  He was shrieking, at the top of his lungs, “The kind is dead!  The king is dead!”   Now what’s the bloody fool done? She thought in irritation, and hurried off to investigate.