Golden Child [Rewriting]

*Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

William Atthill walked through the pristine hallways of the Sovereign Palace, stomping over to the throne room, impatient. He brushed a piece of brown hair out of his face, and narrowed his golden brown eyes, nodding as he entered. Upon the throne sat his esteemed uncle Iman, or rather the Sovereign Ruler. He sat upon the throne like he had been chosen by some or other God, but William wished his father was still alive, because he didn't believe Iman could make a good ruler.

"Uncle," William said, with a quick bow, and an acknowledging nod to his uncle's Adviser, Percival. The man was a stick, tall as a building, but shaky as a reed.

"William, I'm glad to see you are well." His uncle remarked with a sly smile on his face.

"You called for me?" William asked.

"Yes, indeed I have. Percival seems to think that you should have a say in the coronation." He voiced, while Percival shook in his shoes.

"I only say this because I believe that William is the true descendant of our great and humble Ruler, Sein, and that he should voice his opinion on the matter." Percival's shaky voice rung through the throne room.

William replied with a shrug, "you know I have no interest in politics, Percival."

"I was hoping you would change your mind, my Lord." Percival said softly, "simply because I believe it is your right to rule this Capital."

William sighed, "as I have said before, Percival. I do not care for politics the way my uncle does, and therefore I will not be attending the coronation as the new Sovereign Ruler, but as a guest, to support my uncle."

"As you wish, your Highness." Percival nodded, scribbling something down on a piece of paper.

"Now that we have discussed that, I have a favour to ask, uncle." William said sternly, his voice resonating through the entire throne room.

"What is it, William?" Iman asked.

"I request that I be allowed to form my Royal Force now. There has been talk of it for months, but I think now is a crucial time." He explained.

"Yes, of course, William. I understand you are determined to find your parents' assailant." Iman reasoned, "I shall grant you permission. You may assemble a Royal Force to be used at your will, to find your parents' assailant, and to rid the Sovereign Capital of Ascended Beings."

William bowed his head in respect, "thank you, uncle." He said with the utmost respect, then he turned around and faced his shadow.

"Demetrius," he said quickly, "we are departing to the Academy shortly, ready a carriage."

"Surely you do not have to depart now?" Iman requested.

"I must, uncle, I apologise. I will be here for dinner tomorrow, right now I must tend to my Sovereign Duty." He bowed once again and then exited the room. He walked along the corridor toward the front entrance, where his carriage awaited him and exhaled as he stepped inside. It was a relatively long ride to the Academy, and he knew Magister would still be up to assist him with his task. They had been discussing a Royal Force for months, but it had never quite come together because he was too busy attending to ridiculous politics. He remembered the day his parents were killed all too well. Some of the Palace doctors said that people who experience trauma often do not remember anything, but he remembered everything, the way the light reflected on his father cheeks as the assailant slashed his throat, the way they found his mother's body on the outskirts of the Capital, burnt beyond recognition, and the way he saw her nimbly leap out of the window that night. He remembered everything but her face. He was not sure whether the assailant's gender was female, but he remembered her distinct hairstyle, her focused eyes, and two neat buns on her head, and dead-set eyes, dagger glimmering in the moonlight. She glowed gold that night, he couldn't describe it, and it angered him every time because it was almost as if she were proud of her deeds. He needed to find her, and kill her because she killed his parents, and no one could get away with that. That was why he was assembling the Royal Force, he needed the Capital's best minds to track down the mysterious assailant that seemed to disappear into the dead of the night.