Nearly 13 years earlier...
~Michael~
“Thank you,” I said nodding my head respectively to the old lady across from me. She wore rich clothing and her hands were dripping in diamonds.
“Not at all. Your father was a great man Michael. He will be missed. Oh! Mr. Treeny!” The lady said turning away from me.
“Can I sit down now?” I asked my Uncle Harold standing next to me.
“No my boy. You must talk to all the guests. It isn’t every day that a four year old gest crowned king,” Uncle Harold said.
“But I’m tired,” I complained.
“Kings don’t whine.”
I crossed my arms and let out a breath.
“Mikey! Mikey!” Said the bouncing ball of pink. My best friend Izzy came bounding up to me. Her bright pink dress poofed up around her. Her frizzy blonde hair circled her head like a halo.
“Want to go play? There are really good cookieth over there! Come try them!” She tugged on my arm. Then she paused. “Why are you wearing your daddy’th crown? He thath we’re not thuppothed to touch it,” She continued lisping badly.
“Remember Izzy? I’m king now,” I reminded her. My own lisp was gone because since my dad had been diagnosed with cancer, Uncle Harold had been giving me king lessons.
“Oh yeah,” she giggled. “So can you come play? Thith place is boring.”
I looked hopefully at Uncle Harold. His fluffy black eyebrows were drawn together in disapproval. No one in the castle approved of mine and Izzy’s friendship. Daddy had, but he was gone now.
Uncle Harold shook his head in response to Izzy’s question. I slumped in disappointment. Uncle Harold immediately slapped my shoulders to make me stand straight. ‘Kings stand tall and proud, never weak’, he always said.
“I’m sorry Izzy. Can we play tomorrow?” I asked Uncle Harold.
He thought for a moment. “You could spare an hour or so I suppose,” he said.
“Yay!” I cheered. “We will play tomorrow Izzy.”
“Promith? She asked holding out her pinky to me. I wrapped mine around hers and pumped our hands up and down.
“Promise,” I repeated.
“Okay!” She said happily. “I’m going to go eat cookieth!” She said. Izzy was never still for long. She was always up and moving. Since Izzy was the daughter of one of the kitchen cooks, she was free to move around the castle as long as she stayed out of everyone’s way. I used to be the same way, until Daddy was diagnosed with cancer. Since then I’ve been in a cage as they attempted to tame me so I could take over.
“Why am I not allowed to play with my friends?” I asked Uncle Harold as I watched Izzy’s bubble gum pink retreating figure.
“Friends come after the responsibilities of king.” He said gravely.
His jet black hair was styled like mine, gelled back and away from our faces. I thought it was stupid, but the stylists said it was ‘fashionable’. Everyone always said I resembled Uncle Harold, my father’s brother, more than I did my dad.
The evening dragged on. I was forced to smile and be polite as I talked to strangers, whose names I would never remember, let alone who they were.
I was always conscious of Izzy. She was hard to miss. She was bouncing around, and really easy to pick out in her bright pink dress. Normally I would be with her, making up games and eating cookies, but I knew that I was not allowed to do that. I had responsibilities now. Being a kid came last in my list of priorities.
YOU ARE READING
I am the King, Right?
RomanceMichael Zanaya was crowned king of Arsom when he was only four. His father recently died of cancer and his mother disappeared when he was little. 13 years later, how can Michael deal with being one of the youngest kings with his Uncle Harold as adv...
