Taking the Throne: A Daniel Tiger Tragedy

Chapter III: Homeward

A/N: Uh so the first fifth or so of this chapter was written around eight months earlier than the rest, so that other four fifths might seem a little disconnected. Anyways enjoy the story ig 💀

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Screech! A big black bus came into view as I laced a diamond necklace around my neck. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked wrong. I always did when I dressed up in my royal garb.

In my dress, I looked like Auntie Sara. I wore a white gown, passed down from Sara, and her crown. My hair, now waist length, was down. I put on my silk gloves, and I was ready.

I delicately walked down the marble steps of the castle, careful with my crutches, as I went to go outside. Before I did that, though, I glanced out of the window.

The bus doors opened and a man walked out. He had a troubled look on his face. The neighbors of the neighborhood were all surrounding the bus and immediately went silent when they saw him.

I came outside.

The man's eyes locked on mine. He had Tuesday's eyes.

"Where are they?"

"What?" I asked.

"Where are my parents?"

I sighed. We were not allowed to contact Wednesday in jail and we could not inform him of their deaths.

"They have passed away."

"Huh? How? Both of them?"

"Yes, unfortunately. After your imprisonment, King Friday became ill and succumbed of his disease. Sara was so grief-stricken that she refused to eat or sleep, and she died soon after."

The man took in the information for a while. "Well, are you the queen?"

"Yes I am."

"Well, I just want to tell you sorry. About everything. I regret it."

I looked at everyone else. They were shocked. This murderer felt regret?

"And," he continued, "I have something." He got back into the bus and pulled out, of all things, a baby. "There's a lot of explanation, but I have a child. Her name is Thursday."

There were hushed murmurs all around. No one knew what to make of Thursday. Would she grow up to be like her monstrous father?

"Well, I suppose you should explain this to us," I replied. "Wednesday, please join me in the study."

While I walked over to my uncle's old study, everything soaked into my mind. Wednesday was not only sorry but also a father?

He was right: I shouldn't have been queen, at least not yet. I was coronated only at the age of 12. Even at the age of 16 I was still not ready. And now, a criminal in the neighborhood.

He entered the study and we sat down. I lit a match and started the fire. He started recollecting his tale.

Warden, Wilma, Thursday, Discipline Day. It was a lot to take in. While he spoke I noticed that his speaking cadence was similar to Tuesday's.

"So do I have to tell this to the neighborhood?" Wednesday sighed, obviously not wanting to retell the entire story.

I thought about it. Ever since we got a message that Wednesday was coming back, we have been scrambling to find a way to keep the neighborhood safe. The letter that told us about this said that he had "urgent matters to tend to" and had "reformed from the exemplary skill of Dying Dreams", but none of us believed it. We all remembered seeing Tuesday's lifeless eyes.