King Kyle's Poems"

✧ Chapter Eight ✧

"This might take some time to heal,,"

The other guard said as he was sitting next to me in the guards' room, bandaging one of the numerous wounds I had on my shoulder, being careful not to hurt me even more than I already was. "Thanks Ken-" I mumbled out, and as fast as I could I stood up; I did not want to get in one of those usual arguments we had. But his mouth was fast enough to let some words out before I achieved to leave the room: 

"This has to stop, Stan, don't you think this is too much for you to bear?"

"If that's what my lord wishes." I don't think I fully meant it, I just wanted to get out of that door and get to my frustrating and endless shift, it would still be better than having this argument for the third time in the same day. "We both know that's not what you wish for. You should start putting yourself first."  

Putting myself first? I'm his royal guard, I can't be such an egoistic individual, I already know my life duty. "You can't understand Kenny, trust me it's fine." Opening the door in front of me I get out into the hallway, and I could've sworn I could've seen Kenny's disappointed face as I closed the door behind me. Walking down the hallways to reach the king's room I sighed to myself, oh, another day of bearing that unfair and judging attitude, I was getting sick of it. I reached the throne again, the tall redhead sitting proudly on it with his legs crossed, ordering some of the maids around. I did not speak a word, just silently approaching the throne and standing beside it as my duty intended. "What's with those curtains? I can breath the dust from here !" 

The hall could hear him raising his voice against one poor maid who had to bear the treatment. As he finished his little show I saw his head turning towards me, he didn't speak a word; instead, his eyes were looking up and down my arms and shoulders.

"What are those bandages for?" 

"oh these? just some bruises and cuts caused by a certain someone in the training field, your highness." 

He knew what I was talking about, I could tell by the way his eyes narrowed as he turned his head back, facing the front hall, as if I didnt exist. I was getting sick and tired of his attitude towards me and my role, I wouldn't be exaggerating if I said he would've accused me for everything he had in mind; Kenny used to hear me rant about it almost everyday, while taking care of the wounds on my body. He wouldnt provide a relevant solution though, he just listened and told me to react, how though? Not even he knew.

With a clap of hands the king was recalling for my attention, standing up and walking proudly towards the big castle entrance. I couldn't remind why we were heading outside, he always talked about a ton of things while I stayed there listening with 1 hour of sleep in my body, I eventually stopped listening to him. But a light struck my mind as I remember when I saw Craig and Kenny approach the pillory, tidying up Cartman, already in horrible conditions. So the day of his execution has come? I forgot about it.

After some initiatory actions you could see a show in front of your eyes, citizens yelling and throwing everything they could find at the tied man. That scene made me want to vomit.

In my years as a royal guard I had to slay and kill various men, not daring to stutter. It didn't make me uncomfortable, but making someone suffer did. I always made sure to kill my opponents in fast and direct ways, it's not my point to bring pain, it's not a knight's thought to do so; and so I just tried looking away, to ignore the scene before my eyes; or at least I tried ignoring it.

The king being as stubborn as he was turned towards me: "Are you enjoying yourself?" 

were the only words coming out of his cruel mouth. I couldn't even look at him in the eyes, I hated the view, I hated his attitude, I hated,, him?