His Guilt | Oneshot

His Guilt

Waking up is always a struggle for Aaron. He lazily throws the duvets away and checks the time. Aaron arises from the bed, his hair tousled and eyes puffy. In a few minutes, the maids that are assigned to deliver his breakfast are going to arrive so Aaron hurries to brush his teeth. He splashes cold water onto his pale face and then dries his face with a soft towel. Aaron grabs a robe and puts it on seconds before the maid knocks on the door. Aaron saunters towards the door and opens it, letting the maid in.

"Good morning, Your Highness," the maid greets Aaron as he takes a seat on his chair. The maid wheels her trolley into the room and starts setting the table. She places a few plates before him, consisting of several different fruits. Awful, Aaron thought. Same food every single time. He was sick of it and wanted to smash the fruit into the maid's grotesque face. Aaron grasps his fork, stabbed it into the mango and stuffed it in his mouth.

"Leave," Aaron ordered just as the maid poured him a glass of juice. She nodded and quickly left the room, shutting the door behind her with an insanely loud thud. Aaron gazed at the door while taking a sip from his juice.

. . . Y/n slammed the door shut and Aaron turned to look at her. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Breakfast." Y/n huffs as she takes a seat on the sofa. "That's what's wrong."

Aaron chuckles. "I assume you did not enjoy what the chefs cooked today?"

"Of-course not!" she replies. "The food was horrendous."

"You're so dramatic." Aaron rolls his eyes. "So picky, too."

"How dare you." Y/n glares at him. She quickly grabs a cushion and hurls it at Aaron, hitting him square in the face. Y/n lets out a laugh and throws another one but Aaron catches it and flings it at her, instead.

"So childish," Aaron remarks, a fond smile on his face.

"This child can also kill you with a flick of her fingers," Y/n snaps. "Now go shower. You smell." . . .

Aaron runs a hand through his hair and gets up from his chair. He walks over to the bathroom and locks himself in. He takes off his robe right before stepping into the shower enclosure. After thoroughly washing himself with lavish soaps and shampoos, he finally gets dressed. Aaron slips into the attire that was set out for him, including a heavy cloak. He fastens the cloak around his neck and puts on his leather shoes. Aaron takes a deep breath as he opens the door. Right away, a dozen guards appear beside him as he walks over to the council room.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," Aaron's royal advisor says. "You have seven conferences today along with visiting the kingdom of Zeania. You arranged this meeting a few months ago."

"I am not interested in conquering that kingdom anymore," Aaron replies, his expression stoic. "Cancel it."

"But," the advisor starts but Aaron silences him with a glare. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Lords and nobles bow down in respect as Aaron perches on the small throne that he had placed in the council room.

"Your Highness, we have some news for you," exclaims a lord that Aaron does not care to know the name of. "The Kingdom of Emberlyn has put forth a border between our lands. They are demanding for a written document stating that we will not send military forces to attack their kingdom or else they will cut off all ties, including the food trade."

"Write one, then," Aaron replies, his expression disinterested.

"Another individual with abilities has been located in the city of Brusan. Shall we go collect them since Y/n has already passed away?" A general asks. Aaron glowers at the general, a mixture of hurt and rage in his pale, green eyes.