Prophecy of Death

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2: THE EYES BENEATH THE STORM

As the illegitimate son of the king, Zayn wanted nothing more than to prove himself. He was always belittled, may it be by his step-mother whose obvious hatred for him drove her to the edge, or the priests. He was proof of unfaithful relationships and would probably be hanged from the castle's highest tower if not for the fact that the king favoured him more than he did his legitimate one.

His father married Queen Victoria under the alliance of the neighbouring kingdom, now uniting to become one. It was an arrange marriage, and though he himself never agreed to it, the court and his own father were pressure enough to do so. Even so, he choose to love Zayn's mother, Katherine, who belonged to the family of the head holy priests. He was born after Christopher, which was all the more reason to demean him.

Christopher and Zayn never got along. They were friends when they were little, but the difference of their treatment was powerful enough to draw a wedge between them.

The head priest expected Christopher to be one of the prophecy, but was excessively disappointed when it turned out to be Zayn instead. His own uncle was never there to support him, but he always brushed that off as work.

Zayn, surprisingly believed in the words of the priest. He never questioned them, never asked for an alternative. He was probably the only one happy to be on this little adventure list. If he could complete the prophecy, whatever it was, he might finally get accepted. He didn't want to be king, not that he would even be an option with Christopher there, but if his own people could understand him and stand by him, there would be no one more powerful than him. Christopher of course, thought differently. He never cared to visit his people, unlike Zayn, who knew them well. He never cared to understand them well, which Zayn thought was important. As long as he would sit on the throne, thought Christopher, he could do whatever he wished and no one could stop him.

"Prince Zayn presents himself to your chambers, Your Highness." Said the butler.

"Oh, enough of it already, Darwin, I'm his son. I don't need to present myself." Said Zayn.

"Yes, you do, Zayn! You cannot just waltz in to His Majesty's chambers. That would be highly inappropriate. Where are your manners, boy?" Darwin said.

While he already had a loving father, king Myron could not always be there for Zayn. His kingly duties called him too often. So, Darwin, his personal butler had taken it upon himself to parent little Zayn. Even if that meant running around the little seven-year old vandal all around the castle or risking his bushy beard being panted in the dark of the night. He had been there for Zayn all through his life, and that was what mattered to him. He couldn't be more thankful to the gods to present Darwin as his butler. He wouldn't wish for anybody else.

"Go now lad, I haven't taught you to make the king wait now, have I?" Darwin grumbled.

"No, but you have taught me how to handle old grumbling butlers, haven't you?" he smirked.

"Zayn! Wait until I get my hands on you." Darwin replied with a sharp glare.

Zayn simply shot him his mischievous grin and sauntered to his father. He loved his father with just as much passion as the latter did to him, and it pained Zayn to see him ill and in bed, barely able to stand on his own two feet before falling apart. Wars and age had worsened the once lively young king that kept him in his bed, bones and muscled refusing to support him unless absolutely necessary.