Silent Ruler [DNF]

Chapter 1: Home sweet home

An awfully loud bell rang through the castle, insinuating dinner. Whoever got the brilliant idea to install that bell and make it the official signal for food should be stripped of their ability to ever make decisions again, George concluded.

Some claim that you die twice: Once when your heart stops beating and the second time when your name is spoken for the last time. However, after spending 25 years inside of the horrendously depressing castle that George was forced to call 'home', he was convinced that a person could die three times. The third time being when life no longer offered any form of enjoyment.

He sighed. Dreading getting out of the comfortable armchair. His legs had fallen asleep from the weight of the heavy book laying in his lap. Two piles of books were found on each side of the chair containing everything from philosophy, foreign languages, and romantic novels. It could probably be classified as some form of literary torture to everyone else in the kingdom. However, George didn't share that pessimistic view on literature. These books were a receipt of the immense power that the human brain withheld and was George's only proof that life could be more than what the inside of the castle's walls offered.

Every muscle in George's body protested as he rose from the leather chair. Books wasn't a common interest, so his clothes were covered with dust particles. He frowned. Knowing that his mom would scold him for it.

As the heir, she claimed that it was apart of his duty to uphold a certain standard. George himself couldn't care less, but imagery played a big part to his parents. They ruled with fear as their greatest weapon and therefore highly valued people's perception. They couldn't afford to be seen as weak in any way shape or form.

A robust, whole-body mirror was leaning against one of the walls in the library. George examined his reflection; all black clothes accompanied by a short sword attached to his belt. Everyone in the kingdom was required to wear black clothes and carry some form of weapon, especially if you were of higher rank. The only perk of being a prince when it came to clothing was that he didn't need to cover his lower face with a mask. Nearly every else was forced to at least cover the lower half of their face. Reason being to erase people's individuality and identity. The limited wardrobe choices were another thing that George wasn't particularly fond off. The black clothes caused his pale skin to appear even paler in comparison. For him to carry a sword also felt ridiculous. Those who knew him would know that his ability to handle a sword was basically non-existent.

He pushed the dark locks away from his face, exposing his tired, dark eyes. Another thing that he was sure that his parents would point out. Living with them definitely took its toll on one's confident.

There was something else too. Something about this kingdom got him feeling wrongfully placed. It wasn't some solid, concrete thing that caused it. Moreso a sense that this couldn't be all life had to offer.

He brushed off the last bits of dust before heading down to the dining hall. Plenty of guards were stationed along the hallways and George couldn't help but internally cringe at how formally each of them greeted him. Life as a royalty was overly glamourized throughout books and stories. George hated how on edge everyone seemed around him and his family. In his eyes, he was nothing more than your average human. He'd never wanted the throne. In all honesty, there wasn't a thing he dreaded more than his future coronation. To rule an entire nation? Hell no. He could barely decide on what to eat for breakfast.

Unfortunately, there wasn't many weeks left until his coronation was set to take place.

He lingered for a few seconds before entering the dining hall. It looked the same as always. Grey walls made from cobblestones with a matching floor and roof. Narrow windows with glasswork displaying beautiful scenery containing wonderful depictions of different landscapes. A wooden table made from dark oak was positioned in the middle. George found it weird why they needed such a big table considering that it was most often just him, his mother, and his two siblings that were eating there.