Don't mess with me.

Now I Rule The World.

     James sighed, already annoyed by the sobbing woman kneeling at his throne. The head guard had told him that she came to appeal for the release of her sons, who were imprisoned for theft, or something like that. He didn't really care, actually, he was sure that the boys were already dead anyway.
       He flicked his wrist, and two guards  stepped forward and proceeded to drag the still sobbing woman out of the room and throw her down the steps to the streets below.
   "Next," he drawled, resting his chin on his hand. Through the doors strode his newly appointed adviser, as the previous one was sentenced to death by   asphyxiation for 'treason to the king', which was actually just disagreeing on the new laws James wanted enforced.
     "Your majesty," the adviser started, bowing until his beak like nose almost touched the dark marble floor. "As you have requested, I have brought to you all of age males in the kingdom and surrounding countryside, as well as all shillings found in their homes. I trust you will find the collective amount... satisfactory,"  he continued, face still touching the floor.
"Excellent, you are dismissed," James replied in his dark monotonous voice. The advisor backed out of the room, never once lifting his head. Once he had left the room, James turned his attention to the group kneeling in front of him. There were approximately 53 males in front of him, ages ranging from thirteen to 39. After assessing them for a few moments, he addressed the group.
      "As you know, my kingdom has recently discovered a cave in which a large amount of coal is suspected to be. I have chosen you to go too this cave and work for me extracting the coal for an undetermined amount of time. Your payment will be 3 pence for each lump of coal that you find, which will be delivered to your family, if you have any. I will give you this day to tell your families and prepare to leave. I expect you to be here at sunrise on the morrow and not a moment later. Understood?" This was met by a small uproar from the elders of the group, and confused mutters and titters from the younger boys.
  "You can't expect us to up an' leave with ou' a moments notice! Who will support our families, run our businesses! This isn't  fair!" Shouted a few men in the crowd, most notably a tall lanky man wearing what appeared to be hand-me-down trousers and a tunic made from burlap.
      James remained stoic, but his eyes and clenched fists revealed the burning rage inside of him. How dare this filth think he could speak to him! James pointed to a young boy in the back of the crowd.
"You. Come here."
The small boy walked to the front of the crowd to the foot of the kings throne, where he stopped and kneeled. James stood and grabbed the small boy, who was not but 4 years his younger, by his tawny hair. He pulled the child up until he had to stand on his toes before the group. His dirty, twig like fingers grabbed at the Kings fist, trying to pry it away from his hair.
"You think I am cruel, that I am unfair?" James voice was quiet, yet strong and laced with barely concealed rage. His eyes screamed madness, though he appeared cool and collected.
"You think that my methods are unjust? Have I not allowed you a home in my kingdom when many of you fail to pay the simple taxes required to fortify the palace walls that surround and protect you? Do I not allow you to keep crops that are rightfully mine so that you can feed your filthy and overpopulated households?" He punctuated this by a hard tug to the boys hair, which caused the child to whimper.
"What is your name, child?" James said, turning his gaze to the boy in his grip.
"S-Samuel," the youth stuttered. James turned back to the crowd.
"Very well. When Samuel's mother asks, let her know that her son was used to demonstrate the 'cruelty' of your king." Having said this, the young king procured a knife and proceeded to slice the boys neck, starting at his left ear and slowly pulling his blade till it reached the boys right ear. The child looked out at the crowd, eyes wide with fear, before gurgling on his blood, bubbles forming and popping in the large gash surrounded by torn flesh. The boy slumped to the marble floor, staining the dark marble and his hand stitched clothes a dark crimson color. After a moment, the boy went still, all that remained of him a blood stained corpse. A younger boy in the crowd wailed, having just witnessed the unjust murder of his older brother.
   "Now, does anyone else have a statement?" The hall remained silent. "Good. You are dismissed. Save, for you," here James pointed at the sobbing child. "You shall stay behind and dispose of the body, and then scrub  the floors." James looked down at the boy, who appeared to be nine years of age. "From now on you will rid my halls of bodies and blood stains. Understood?" The boy nodded, tears still streaming down his cheeks. "Good." And with that James strode from the hall licking the copper stain from his blade, leaving the boy to deal with the broken and bloodstained corpse of his brother.