Your Majesty,

Under his firm grip

I knew it was too much to ask. For a man to not think only of himself, and the best for his own success, especially when he is ranked high in power and clearly capable of doing whatever he wants with no regards for anyone else's feelings or safety but his own!

How did I think that he got himself up there in the first place?

Savagery. Ruthlessness. Terribleness...

They say it takes one to know one, but I promise you I am the least bit of savage. I have controlled my anger for long enough, I have dumbed myself down to be digestible for way too long.

I have hidden words I have chosen to never speak of, granted i have made many mistakes, but none quit like the kings.

The king is a disgusting man, young, but already so full of vile evil...

I couldn't look at him as anything else but a mere slug, even if all the women of his kingdom adorn him and marvel up at him. A part of me knows they do it because of what they themselves will receive, ultimately. Or for the chance at receiving anything... Like dogs "loyally" waiting for breadcrumbs at a diner table.

I despised everything about it.

From the world of our forest home, he has shown the least amount of respect for life and he is full of vile wretchedness that pours out of him into destruction on the world around him. He has to be stopped.

Maybe him and I are alike, since we are both human, maybe he is my excuse to indulge in similar desires for cruelty. Maybe I am not better, but that isn't stopping me- that isn't inspiring me to be a "better" person...

Perhaps, no one is merely ever safe in this world. & what if, like him, I need to learn to take life by my own hands.

Before, I have never done anything to touch his kingdom or to even look his way, I would never dare to think to start a rebellion against the king and his vile ways because it was out of my way! Who Am I to even try?!

But the minute his darkness took my sister, ripped her straight from our hands, the hands of my family... and watching her helplessly accept her fate.

In that moment I had died. Of all that I was and am.

All I could see was blood red and a fierce undeniable thirst for revenge, the pure heat flooding through my fist and coursing through my veins. I had never felt this angry towards any beast before! I would've never dared!

But now all of a sudden, I had to taste his blood, I had to have it on my hands and on my face. I had imagined ripping him to shreds! Nothing would make me sit still!

He was a man of lust. Ashamedly so, I could not say we are the same. No, I lusted for something more, possibly worse, something I dare not questioned or tasked myself around with... that is, until he made me face life or death. But I'm sure he is technically a murder for all the wars the sent in his name.

And my choice, is his death.

I strapped on all the gear I could find around me, knives, flint rock, better wool, I packed it all and I began my walk from our burnt down village- to his very castle walls.

Of course I thought about how if he were any man I knew, that this would be bad. I would know it would be good to listen to that of others who tell me not to go, but I was just so genuinely charged and felt I had nowhere else to go, no one else to be.

It was actually a very short trip, I didn't really even have time to think of a plan.

He has never taken from villages so close to his own castle, he had always been a man that stole from other lands.