To Wear The Crown

11

The prince stomps to his bedroom with heavy footsteps, echoing like an elephant stampede through the stone built castle. He tried as Mr Ajuyi had asked, he tried talking to his brother, but he was too stubborn. A conversation with a brick wall would be more entertaining, and probably have a better outcome than the one he had attempted with his brother.

The brothers have always not got along. The younger brother, jealous of his older brother for getting their father's attention. While the older brother was always angry, believing the younger killed their mother. Many times the older would say things like, "She's not your mother. She just birthed you.", "She is my mother. She loved me!" and "You are the reason she died. You should be the one that's dead." Words targeted towards the younger brother, so he was hurt— and the older brother would win the arguments. Their father would cuddle with the younger brother at times, and let him know that he wasn't the reason for their mother dying— that she does love him from her special place in the sky. The reason the younger has his border collie, Nellie, is because the king knew how lonely his son must have been while he was with the older, preparing for the future. Though the king wasn't as affectionate with the younger as he should've been, he would remind the younger that he was loved only at times when it was convenient.

The door to the prince's room swings open and slams shut behind the prince with a gust of cold wind. The oak panels can be heard croaking as they are forced into the door frame. With a heavy sigh, the prince sits on the edge of his bed. Accidentally waking a sleeping dog in the process, as the force of his weight shifts the bed underneath them. "Hello there Nellie." He says as she shuffles over to place her head on his lap. Stroking her soft fur helps to calm the prince's anger. He knows his brother is stubborn, he has always been, and it's not going to change. His brother is also the king now. The almighty ruler of the kingdom. And what the king says goes. Even if that means denying help to a village struggling with a disease outbreak and wanting to raise taxes that people struggle to pay. It's not right. "As king, he should be trying to help the people— his people, Nellie, not ignore them. It's just so- so- urgh!" Collapsing onto his back in frustration, the prince lets his arms fling above his head.

"Your highness?" A knock comes from the other side of the door before a dark-haired male walks in.

"Hello, Charlie." The prince says, not looking away from the deep red curtains draped above him. "Is my brother still in the dining hall?"

"No, your highness." Charlie quickly answers.

With an answer he's pleased with, the prince sits back up. "Good, I'm still hungry."

"That's why I brought you a plate up." Charlie would've followed straight behind the prince when he stormed out of the dining hall, though the prince barely got a few mouthfuls before the two brothers started arguing.

The prince looks over at his servant and smiles while using his elbows to prop himself back up. "You know me so well." He coos, reaching over to Charlie as far as he can with Nellie's head resting on his lap. "Nellie..." He says softly. Lifting her head with the command, she moves to sit next to the prince, like the good girl she is. The prince turns back to Charlie and thanks him like it's a passing comment before picking up the chicken drumstick and (not so elegantly) takes a bite, like a vulture ripping the flesh off its prey. Nellie is well trained and knows not to beg, but her twitching nose can't deny the delicious smell as she starts to salivate.

"Is there anything you'd like me to do, your highness?" Charlie asks as stands to the side of the bed, slightly uncomfortable as he can see the prince taking his anger out on his food.

The price goes to say something though it comes out as muffles with his mouth stuffed. Quickly he chews and swallows the contents before repeating himself, "You could kill my brother." He snickers.