A king with a bad attitude must change for his subjects or else face the rebellion. He thinks power can stop it all, little does he know power can become the reason for his fall.
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Book 1 | R...
Once upon a time, there lived a prince, awaiting the day when he would be the king.
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A crowd of hundreds beset the stage where the king stood. With ashen faces and pity in their heart, they looked at their king who was about to hand over his beloved kingdom to the cruel man waiting backstage. Helplessness clung to them like a second skin and rendered them unable to act. Even if they managed to free themselves from its grasp, the king's decision was final. King Adam was officially giving his royal throne to his successor and son, Prince Edward.
Prince Edward Cromwell II was one privileged royal from the kingdom of Pigeoda. Born to be a king and on top of that being blessed with a handsome face, it was bound to get to him. As much as appearances are deceiving, they are blinding as well.
His beauty and the name of his family written in gold were so bright that they blinded him toward the misery of others. He was the typical picture of a king - snobbish, uncaring and brute.
Who would want such a person as their king? No one except the enemies, of course. They were waiting for the downfall of Pigeoda and were sure that there will be no need to dirty their hands as Prince Edward would ruin his legacy. It would be a win-win.
While the prince waited behind the curtains for his name to be called by the announcer for his coronation, his to-be subjects were dreading him becoming the king. They stood in worry, biting their nails and gulping their sound of protest.
The prince was not a tyrant, but it does not take much to become one when you have power. Power in hands eventually gets to your head. Only very few are exceptions and their prince was not one. Their trust in their king was the sole reason they were abstaining themselves from demanding a different ruler. King Adam's eyes held hope and his subjects, his loyal subjects, were not about to let it diminish. The king had faith in his son and the people had faith in their king.
"... would lead the kingdom to greater heights. The most respected and experienced priestess told of his future where..." The announcer was going on and on about the would-be king – singing praises and telling what everyone wants to hear. Either he did not understand the risk of stalling the ceremony or he was unafraid of the consequences, or the worst – the prince.
The coronation part of the coronation ceremonies is kept a quick affair. It was viewed as the most vulnerable part as it was easy to attack in the crowd. Chances of fights among people breaking out were high too. Blind followers versus unreasonable haters had been the rule of the world since humans came into being. Due to the aforementioned reasons, the title of the king is passed down after a short speech and the royal family is brought back to safety. After a thorough security check, the celebrations start in the form of a party where the whole kingdom is welcomed. During the celebration, you feast, you dance and you get drunk.
Since the announcer was still running his mouth, everybody present was getting strung tight with tension at an unusual speed. They might as well snap soon. The soldiers were standing stiff and ready with their hands on their respective weapons. The actions of the announcer were starting to seem more and more suspicious. Eventually, the king had to interrupt.
"Thank you for your lovely hosting, Silas. I would like to take over now and say a few words in honor of my son and next king. Edward..."
The king had an air of a leader around him. Simple words spoken by him were like commands, they made people follow and bend. The crowd and the other royals were completely immersed in his voice except for the soldiers. While all the other soldiers were paying attention to the crowd for any kind of mishaps, particularly one was watching Silas with hawk-like eyes. The slim-built man was sweating and languidly inching towards the curtains where the prince was waiting.
He did not come off as someone who is on our side, the soldier pondered. Silas had been serving the king for years. The soldier was in a dilemma regarding the loyalty of the blonde-haired man.
Making an excuse about going to the bathroom, the lean-bodied soldier went straight to Silas and fortunately caught him before he could harm the prince who was unsurprisingly amiss from his spot.
"Where are you going, announcer?"
"To the bathroom."
"You are lying. Tell me the truth, traitor."
"I have taken an oath of loyalty to the kingdom."
"WHERE?!"
"I tell you nothing except the truth."
"You have beads of sweat on your forehead, only on your forehead. Your brow is twitching. Do you want to hear about any more indications?"
A sword was aligned at Silas' throat when he kept mum. It had him squeaking like a squirrel and spilling the beans.
"I come in peace. The king sent me to tell the prince to not come out when he is called. He got word of a planned attack from the inside."
"I don't see the prince and your face says something else."
"The prince scares me. If you still doubt, come along."
"Lead."
The group of two checked every place nearby before finding the prince in his room situated all the way to the other side of the castle. Apparently, he was bored of waiting. Silas resisted a sigh of disappointment and the male accompanying him was as nonchalant as a soldier should be.
Once the prince was deemed safe with Silas, the soldier left the two and went back to his post, the same post he would soon witness the prince from hell become the king.
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