The Paladin (The King Eternal Monarch AU)

The Righteous King

Edward was the King of Corea that never should have been. Born the youngest of three sons, he was never the heir. Always a spare. And not even the main spare. He was the spare of the spare.

"What do you want to be when you grow up, Edward?"

"I want to be like you, abamama. I want to be the King!"

There was uproarious laughter at the four year old's words. Officials looked at each other amusedly. He glared at them all as they laughed.

Nevertheless, he had bided his time. Had acted as a good son and brother. The act had worked.

"What's wrong with you, hyungnim? Cat got your tongue?" He said, laughing.

"Ed-ward, what – you do to – tea?"

"Just a concoction of my own. Why? The King can't take a little tea? What's this? The Imperial Prince too?"

Strangely enough, Edward missed the conversations with his brothers. They always had a good laugh together. Even at the last, both brothers had died laughing. The way their mouths opened up so wide looked like laughter to him. The memory always made him smile. Happy memories.

Edward had laughed the loudest in the tearoom. His laughter went on even as theirs faded away in choked gasps. Ah, good times.

Still, there were moments when Edward missed talking to his brothers. Missed having someone else run the country as he indulged in his pastimes. Looking back, he had a few moments of regret. His sole motive in life had only been to wrest the throne from his brothers. It was their loss that taking the throne meant that they had to die.

"You can't be the King, Edward. You're not the Crown Prince."

"This won't be any of your business. Your hyung will be the King. Go on and play."

Edward sneered at the memory.

Watch me, Father. I'm King now.

The thing about being King was this – it was a lot more trouble that it was worth. Had he known, he might have found something else to pursue. But Edward always wanted everything that his brothers had.

It was a lot of trouble to kill someone. Killing someone meant that he had to go through the trouble of finding a replacement. Edward's hands itched to kill the replacements faster than it did with their predecessors.

Useless! The whole lot of them!

Thus, he resorted to maiming his subjects. The fear in their eyes turned him on. Cutting off tongues was always a good idea in the heat of the moment. The downside was it took an age to get anything out of them in writing.

Chopping off limbs was a piece of cake but it was difficult to clean up. The servants could never do a good enough job to clean the area up.

As of late, he was feeling merciful. Gone was the maiming. He was interested in surgical punishments – free vasectomies and tubectomies for all. The fear in the eyes of the recipients was so palpable, it made him hard.

Thinking back, he always had occasional merciful moments – he had felt a flicker of it just before he swung his sword at the Queen's neck. He had meant to stab her multiple times in anger. Anger at the defiance shown by the Crown Prince, who lay dead next to her.

Good memories of the times he spent together with his brothers and their families suddenly stayed his hand. Also, she was not fearful. There would be no fun in playing with her. So, no multiple stabbings. Just the neck.