Your Majesty

Once Upon a Time...

Once Upon a Time in a land of long ago, there was a flourishing kingdom. Though the kingdom had come into existence many years before, the king, newly put to the throne, was young and held great power in his position. Although he had everything his heart desired he was spoiled, selfish and cruel. Over the years those who came under his reign had come to hate him in every way possible, but what could they do? After all, he was their King, and whatever the King says, goes.

One winters night the king was resting in his chamber when his advisor came hurriedly in to alert him.

"Your Majesty!" He exclaimed busting in through the stiff oak doors. The king turned on his heels to face his advisor. He wore an expression of stone, his plump, cherry-blossom colored lips poised in a frown, his emerald eyes in a glare of un-amusement.

"What is so important you must interrupt my fitting!?" The king cried gesturing to his tailor who was bent over in furious work on adjusting the hemline of the king's doublet. The tailor stood pulling a few pins from the pincushion round his wrist, his deep brown eyes in sync with the advisor's, who turned his own brown irises back to the king himself.

"I'm so sorry your greatness but the peasant man you had wished to confront is here. He is waiting in the throne room." The advisor bowed stepping to one side of the door, watching as the young king adjusted himself in the mirror then took off down the long corridor, his advisor close at his heels.

The two kept in pace with one another, only to be joined by a third companion, this one a personal servant of the king. The two of them sent their pleads back and forth like a tennis match as they neared the throne room.

"Now your majesty," the servant began, his thick Irish accent a unique tone to be heard in the castle. "Please try to go easy on this one, you do remember what happened last time."

"Right," agreed the advisor. "It's one thing to be a king it's another to be a savage. These people are doing the best they can to get by. Maybe dull down the punishment? Just this once?"

The king turned sharply to face his servants. His mop of short brown curls moved animatedly with his movements. They lay in perfect almost ringlets beneath his crown. The points of the headpiece resembled freshly sharpened daggers that gleamed in the dim lit candlelight of the hall.

"Dull down the punishment? My dear Liam, if my people fall out of line and I dull down the punishment what will the rest of them think?"

The two young men frowned in thought unaware of the king's point.
He rolled his eyes, running his palms over his face.

"Uprising! If one of them gets an idea to disobey they all will. The punishments must be strict for a reason, to keep order and assert power. "

Liam nodded though he was still terribly worried about what would go down in the throne room.
The king sighed and placed his large hand on the older man's shoulder.