The Royal Mishap

Prologue

The season of spring has always been my favorite; the cool wind, and blooming flowers. And my favorite part, the cherry blossoms. Spring brings me joy, and happiness.

Today, however, didn't have anything happy to start it. I'm rather sure now, God adjusts the weather on our mood. Today, the weather was having mood swings like me. The day started of sunny, which led me to believe that the day would be joyous and nothing would go wrong.

No.

Rught now, around nine in the morning there is a sharp knock to be heard on my door.

My sister, Martina steps into my room quickly. She looks at me with a worried expression, and tells me, "Brother, Papa wants to talk to you."

"What does he need?" I reply, fixing my hair in the mirror. It was necessary that I looked my best when the king wants to talk to me.

Martina bit her lip, "I'm not so sure myself. But he's not happy."

"Oh." Confusion washed over me. The weather has never failed me.

And it still didn't. Just then, the wind howled outside my window. It is true!

"Come on now. He'll be even more angry if you delay it!" Martina's soft, silvery tone turned high, as it always did when she was anxious; her big blue eyes looked stressed, as though she was in pain. She kept fiddling with her long blue gown, just another sign of her anxiousness.

"Coming, sister." I reply, soothingly. I walk after her, following her down the staircase. The stairs were wood tiled. If I remember correctly, they were oak wood. Yes, that's it.

After we reached the bottom of the staircase, we still had to take a few turns to reach the main hall. Martina's face has been stitched with urgency, and worry. In a normal situation, I would have asked her to calm down; but right now, our Father, the king was calling us.

A huge door awaited us. Two guards stood on either side of the door, and awaited for our entry.

"Brother, always remember, no matter what Papa says, he doesn't always mean it. It just... comes out sometimes, you know? Just don't take it too seriously. I love you." Martina says, grabbing my hand and looking me in my eyes.

I smile gently at her, and mumbled a thank you. The guards bowed, and opened the door.

We stepped in, to see a muscular figure standing with his back turned. He wore embroidered clothing, and had a large crown atop his head; he's my father. Martina curtsied, her head low, letting her chestnut hair fall over her face. I bow, too, and clear my throat, "Father."

"Finally here," the king turns, revealing his hair just like Martina's. Chestnut, and straight.

I feel his cold gaze. "Up," he says. Martina and I fix our postures hurriedly.

"I sincerely-" I try to apologize, but he interrupts.

"Shh." My Father's rather soft voice echoed through the hall. Then, his voice strains, "How many times, my dear, dear son do I have a need to tell you, you can't talk without my permission?"

I swallow, being sure to look anywhere but in his eyes. His voice may be kind, but his eyes are like daggers. They radiate so much hate, it scares anyone, and everyone. From the corner of my eye, I could see Martina giving me a worried look. I was blessed to have her, at the very least. Oh, and the God of the weather.

"Now. You must be wondering why I called you here, isn't it?" Father began with his speech, leering. "Well, I'm sending you, Nijel, on a rescue mission; so you can be useful for once. I don't mean it to be rude, but you do nothing but enjoy the pleasures of life in the castle."

And what do you do? I thought.

"They say a dangerous life force is guarding it, and the chances of making it back alive are slim." Of course, he'd want me to die, "Unfortunately, her kingdom isn't that big. Their guards will not be able to attempt the rescue mission. The king offered to sell the whole kingdom, but, I was concerned about my son." The fakeness was just too much. "In the end, I agreed."

He continued, "Whilst you will be gone, you'll miss the coronation."

"I'll do my best to be back on time!" I state.

Father clicks his tongue and shakes his head, "No. I can not allow any delays," a smirk crept across his lips, "I'm afraid, Martina will be the Queen."

I feel aghast, worry flowing across my face. I swallow, "I will make it on time!"

"We can't take any chances." He says, his tone turning carefree.

I couldn't yell at him. I knew better than that. Instead, I held in the anger, even though my face may just say it. I croak, "You have to ask Martina. If... If she's fine with it or not. You don't have her permission."

Father looks expectantly at Martina.

Martina glances worriedly at me, then into father's eyes. She looks in a daze, all of sudden.

"If Brother will not make it on time for the coro...- coronation... I will gladly rein as queen." Martina nodded.

What?

Martina just stole my throne. All that I had worked for, was now gone. Because she stole my dream by saying one sentence.

My face must have turned purple from holding in tears by now.

"Disperse, my dears." Father- no- he's not my Father. Not anymore. The wicked king yells gleefully.

"YOU-" I spit. "I WILL MAKE IT ON TIME! AND I WILL BE KING, YOU OLD COOT!"

The smirk on the wicked king's face just grew wider. I march out of the hall, flinging the doors open like an immature six year old throwing a tantrum.

I could hear Martina's screams trying to stop me as I reached the staircase. I didn't stop. I run, I run, until I reach my room, flinging it open and, immediately locking it. I first ran to my cupboard, opening a drawer. I pull out a small packet. I tear it open, and with my hands shaking, I pull out the partially melted chocolate. I shove a peice in my mouth, chewing it as tears roll down my face. I walk over to the window, peeking out. And you know what I saw?

Rain.

Thank you for reading the Prologue!