Kingdom of isolation - you can't hide

Twenty Three - Alexander

Alexander

Age 25

*trigger warning: cutting, blood*

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. Fortunately for me, the roles have been reversed since the day I was born and handed down this fate. And that fateful day is finally here. Decked in dark royal velvet reserved for kings, my reflection is all I've ever known and worked towards. There's not a single doubt in anyone's mind today as to who the king is. Anyone stupid enough to think otherwise will just have to see the heavy crown on my head. Heavy with responsibilities and littered with a jaded history, that's my legacy. Killian stands beside me, wearing something similar but in a darker shade of blue and without the crown. His jet black hair styled back, earring nowhere to be seen, a clean shaven face, fucker looks like a decent human being today. Like my second in command. He watches me through the full length mirror, giving me an impish grin.

"Your majesty, you look fantastic." He croons, fidgeting with his cufflinks with our emblem engraving.

"You've been waiting to call me that, haven't you?"

He clicks his tongue affirmatively before focusing back on his own reflection. I look at myself once again. Not bad for a king. According to the Council, the words 'kingdom' and 'king' suggest we're backward minded in tradition and therefore, capitalism is clearly a better alternative. So, here I am, about to be the new face of Stone Corporation. Either way, I'm winning. The world is at my mercy, of which I have none.

"Alex."

I turn around to the soft voice of Ma as she walks into the room separating me from eager eyes. She's dressed in her formal attire, the one she wore on the day father was crowned king nearly 20 years ago. She's beautiful, my mother. The kind of beauty that's rare these days. We look nothing alike. Her features are softer, elegant with subtle fine lines that make her look like she's barely in her mid thirties. I bet she could still find a new and better companion than father if she wanted to at this age. But I don't think she will, their relationship is something that's been set in stone. There's so much history between the two that makes it impossible to keep them away. I've tried. Multiple times. Didn't work in my favour. She stares up at me with a mixture of trepidation, pride and relief—a contrast of emotions too baffling for the human mind to bear at once. Yet, here she stands, looking at me with an overwhelming sense of bewilderment. Perhaps she knows all too well how monumental today is and how things will change.

"I'll leave you two alone." Killian says, donning that gentlemanly facade in front of his favourite aunt—not that he has that many. By some fuckery in our ancestry, his father and Ma are cousins and ironically, he resembles her more than I do. Ma smiles up at him, caressing his cheek in a motherly manner and the fucker enjoys every second of the attention she's giving him. He's quite the charmer, I'll give him that.

"Leave." I command.

"Your majesty, my lady." He grins, bending at his knees to perform a fucking bow. Ma laughs and I grind my molars.

"He's not who you think he is, Ma." I deadpan.

"I heard that, your majesty! It's not cool to spread misinformation about your second in command.

"I'm proud of you." Ma says when Killian is out of hearing distance, straightening my lapels. I bend down so we're at eye level, allowing her to brush my hair back like she does out of habit. She gently straightens the crown to her liking, smiling to herself as if she's remembering something. She's adorable. It's not often we get to spend some time alone, father always has to make sure she's attached to him by the hip. Possessive old man.