The Other King

I was walking through the poor village. As I passed by the palace I saw many red roses and baskets of goodies in front of the great, big, wooden doors. The dark clouds hung low, close to the palace gates. I saw a wooden carriage leave the palace's gates and on to the village's main dirt road. People quickly rushed children in to their houses and the homeless people quickly hid behind their dirty coats.

King Peter was out in the village looking for his next prisoner. This village had fallen apart once King Peter took over his father's throne. The greatest King this village has ever had sadly passed away last year. King Edward was kind and warm hearted. As for his son Peter, he is cold and heartless. Taxes have been raised, many farmers were losing land, more shops were disappearing, and also families and children have gone missing.

I sighed and walked in the shadows of the small, wooden buildings, keeping a look out for the royal carriage. My brown curly hair blew in the ice cold wind. I looked to both sides of the road before running into the bakery shop. As I opened the small, wooden, door bells jingled above me and a short, plump woman turned around and looked at me.

“Hello Amanda, how are you?” She asked, taking a pan of freshly baked bread out of the fiery hot stone oven.

“I am good. How are you Jane? How’s business?”

She sighed, “King Peter is asking for more tax money which leaves my customers poor. He is very cruel. He came in here just the other day and began yelling at me about how my prices are too low. I told him that I just raised them, but of course he demanded to have them higher. If only his brother, Craig, had taken the throne. These poor times would never be happening.”

“There’s another royal?” I asked as I started to dust the bread crumbs off the store floor.

“Oh yes. Peter’s older brother, Craig, was supposed to take over the throne but instead he took over his uncle’s kingdom.”

“Hm… I never knew that.” I said as I continued to sweep.

“Child, what are you doing?” Jane asked taking the wooden broom from me.

“Jane, I am helping you. You help me and my father so much, the least I can do is help you around the shop.”

She rested a cold, pale hand on my pale, rosy cheek. “Do not worry about it. It’s the least I can do. Helping you is like repaying your mother. She helped me through so much.”

I nodded my head. Jane has helped me and my father since Peter has taken over. My father being sick, my mother dead, and me being only a sixteen year old girl, it was hard to keep up with the farm. If it weren’t for Jane, my father and I would have died from starvation. If it weren’t for King Peter we wouldn’t have to bother poor Jane. Anger rose inside me thinking about how much damage he has done to so many families.

“You know, Amanda, a young man just came in to the store yesterday. He’s nineteen and his family owns a big piece of land.”

Rolling my eyes at her, I replied, “I am not ready to court Jane. I still need to help my father. I could not just abandon him and run off with some young man. “

“You are sixteen my dear! A young pretty girl such as yourself should be ready to court! How many more men are you going to turn down before you finally accept one?”

I have been asked to be courted by a couple of men at the village’s celebrations and festivals. I assume men must find my pale skin, blue eyes, and brown, curly hair attractive. I always denied these, since I was not ready to be taken away from my home and start a new one with someone else.

“I’ll accept one when I am ready. I believe I am still too young, and during these poor times how can anyone afford a decent wedding?”

“That is true, but you are not too young. Your father and mother got married at fifteen. You know your mother once told me that someone asked if they could court you when you were only thirteen.”

I began laughing, “Who would want to court such a young girl?”

“A young man would have courted you at the age of twelve! You have inherited you mother’s big, blue eyes and pale skin, and your father’s brown, curly hair.”

The bells jingled as someone entered the store. A young man with short, black hair and ripped clothing came in.

“Hello,” Jane said, looking at him as if he was a rabid dog.

“Hi, can I buy a loaf of bread?” He asked in a weak tone.

“Here you go,” Jane handed him a loaf of hard bread. “That would be one sickle.”

The boy reached in to his ripped stained pants and pulled out a small silver coin. He dropped it in to her hand and walked out with the old, hard bread. “Amanda, do you mind giving the young man his change?”

“Okay.” I grabbed the little coin from Jane and walked out of the store. The cold wind attacked my skin. I looked for the young man and spotted him at the end of the road. I ran towards him and came to a halt as a horse trotted in front of me. I put my hands out in front of me to make sure I didn’t run in to it.

“I am sorry miss.” An old man said sitting on top of a carriage. He looked very old and fragile. He looked like he was just skin and bones.

“No harm done,” I replied, smiling up at him.

I saw the carriage door open and a black boot step out of it. “FRANCIS! HOW DARE YOU STOP! I TOLD YOU DO NOT STOP FOR ANY WORTHLESS PEASANTS!” A man roared to the old man. He slammed the wooden carriage door revealing his face. He had short, black hair, pale skin, and cold, empty, blue eyes. His emotionless, blue eyes looked me over and a cruel smile appeared on his face. Taking a step forward, “I am King Peter, who are you?”

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