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...
Edward was in the doldrums. He feared getting driven out of his mind due to boredom. Besides his latest source of pastime missing, he had no work to do and he could not take a relaxing walk like old times lest he calls getting attended to by twenty guards relaxing. He wondered if watching the hands of the clock counted as a task or an activity. He can easily make people nod their heads and say yes but in his mind, he would be aware of the truth. A sigh of rout broke out of him. What was he thinking? The answer was as clear as day: he was not thinking at all. If he was, then he would have remembered the meeting he has in the afternoon with his ministers. Faster than ever he chose his garments for the meeting and got dressed. The meeting was due in five minutes. If he left then, he could be fashionably late by ten minutes. The timing was perfect.
As he exited his chamber, Callum's hawkeyes were upon him in an instant. "Where do you wish me to accompany you, my king?"
"To the council room. And please be a little less elite, it is giving me a headache."
Callum was stumped at the king's words. Him? Elite? He was far from the prim and proper well-dressed folks who made toasts of wine with incomparable grace. Maybe it was his mannerism of putting the words together that made the king pass such a comment.
"Callum! Keep your head on Earth, boy." He was distracted to the extent that he missed their arrival to the council room. Failing to realize this and the fact that the king had stopped, he had walked right into the royal's back.
"Sorry, sir."
Edward was disgruntled. It was evident that both of his sentries were inept at their jobs. Jupiter was worse than Callum. A mere thought of the young brat was enough to dampen his mood further. The boy was infiltrating his mind uninvited and Edward was despising every moment of it. After all, he was a busy man. He had ministers to meet, paperwork to do, and all the other kingly duties. Dismissing his irritation, he greeted the ministers who rose from their seats on his arrival.
Assuming his rightful place, he addressed the members. "Please take your seats, ministers."
When all were seated, Edward continued but in a louder voice - "BEGIN!"
Minister Warren spoke first. Recounting the various troubles he was encountering in the area he oversees, he requested him to find solutions as soon as possible. In Edward's opinion, he was whining. Holding in an ill-mannered snort, he signaled the ministers to proceed.
One of the topics of debate was the profit offered by Lady Annabelle in return for land for crop cultivation. Most of the council members entertained the overture and passed it with smiling faces as it meant more wealth in low investment. It was decided that a letter will be sent to the state of Tirror in a week. The affair did not end there. It resumed with more conversations on the kingdom and the changes it was going to witness in the reign of King Edward. The last matter of debate was new policies that were to be applied shortly.
After the long discussion on the new policies that were to come into practice from the next day onwards, he was fatigued and ready to take a fall on the bed and die. Dead-set on doing as planned, he quickened his pace.
Finally, Edward stepped inside his room. An unknown presence in his haven halted him in his tracks. It was a maid. She was bent forward and possibly trying to clean behind the bed. Only her lower half that included her soft round rear was visible as her upper half was covered by the tall wooden headboard of the bed. Renard must have let her in, he presumed. Her rear was covered in loose red cotton slacks but her position made the cloth stick to her. Already exhausted and not very conscious of his actions, he executed his first foolish stint as a king - he deposited both his hands on her buttocks and rubbed. She squeaked, making him smirk. She sprang up to her feet while rubbing her back. His eyes turned as wide as saucers was an understatement. From behind the bed came out Jupiter resembling a ripe strawberry.
Jupiter could not believe the audacity of the King. He was sent by Renard to bring a note by Adam to the king's chamber. The wind from the balcony had carried the paper to the space between the bed and the wall. When the king touched him inappropriately, he was trying to pick up the note. Edward was a pig, a scoundrel for scaring him. And Jupiter? He was an idiot because he was now wet.
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