Prologue

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The townsmen quivered on a cool winter day. Lined up against a wall, they watched the king walk about, not daring to say a word. For if they did, they were dead meat.

The king shuffled back and forth. All the townspeople could hear was the clip clapping of his fine leather boots. His head hung low and his hands secured behind his back. He wore a long red robe spotted with gems and gold. Perhaps his robe cost more money than any of the townspeople would ever make.

His sword dangled beside his waist, always ready to be used if needed. Tales have been told of inhumane things the king had done. After the queen died during her pregnancy, he had gone mad. He was crazy and has been ever since.

The silence was dreadful indeed. The townspeople were afraid for what his next move would be. For the king, he was truly unpredictable.

Suddenly, the clipping and clapping of his boots stopped. The townspeople watched closely. The king stood there for a moment as if he was thinking hard.

Then slowly, he picked his head up. The townspeople tried not to move nor speak. The king had very defined features. His hair stuck up here and there, his eyebrows in a position which always made him look angry, and his brown eyes; his beady eyes that carefully scanned the line of people one by one.

Perhaps, he would've been found attractive to some if it weren't for his awful actions.

All the townspeople could hear was his slow steady breaths.

"Who did it?" were his first words. His voice was deep and mysterious. He eyed the crowd, but no one spoke up. He cursed under his breath, his eyes full of anger and hatred.

"Who did it?" He snarled. Still, no one said a word. He stood there for a moment, looking at the crowd until his eyes laid on one man whose fingers were twitching at his sides.

The man was undoubtedly terrified but tried to look as innocent as possible.

The king slowly walked up to him until their noses almost touched.

"Was it you?" He growled barring his teeth like an animal. The man didn't speak. He was shaking from head to toe. The townspeople watched carefully, afraid of what would happen to that poor man.

The king grabbed the man's shirt in his fist and pushed him against the wall. The townspeople stared. As much as they wanted to help, they couldn't. And to think, this happened all the time in the kingdom.

The man whimpered.

"Answer me peasant!" The king gritted his teeth, tightening his grip.

"I- I didn't d- do it!" the man cried, gasping for air. "P- please, sir. Your highness. Y- your majesty. It wasn't me!"

The king held the man there for another moment, then let go, leaving the man on the floor.

The townspeople looked bewildered, but again, they didn't dare say a word.

The king smiled. An evil smile.

"Very well," he said. He backed away scanning the people once again.

"I will be back tomorrow," he declared. The townspeople exchanged worried glances.

"If someone doesn't speak up," he laughed, "then you will all be so very sorry." His deep voice was intimidating yet almost attractive in some sort of way.

He walked back to his carriage where two soldiers stood. The carriage was in fact quite beautiful. It was a light blue gilded with gold on it's sides.

Two jet-black horses stood in front of the carriage, waiting patiently for the king.

The king slowly stepped inside his carriage, making sure the townspeople took a good look at it, reminding them how rich and powerful he was.

"Remember, I'll be back," he said evilly. One of the soldiers shut the door as he cackled.

And the carriage went off into the foggy day, leaving the townspeople alone.

The king was of a strange type indeed. He was not always like this.

There are countless tales of horrible things he has done. Things no one could even imagine.

No one will ever quite understand the king and his ways.

What was his name you might ask?

Well, he went by the name of Justin Bieber.

And now starts the story of the crazed king who found love and happiness in the least expected way.
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