Heavy is the Head that Wears the Crown

Part 6

     My eyes flutter open to see my golden ceiling. Indents of limbs and a head are pressed in the vacant space to my left. Cecilia was here last night, another trial for an ongoing test. I married Isabelle but no matter the amount of times she would join me on my bed in my chambers she would not bear me a child, not even a daughter. She was useless. What is a woman if she can't give you a child? I sent her back to her father's home in France and she remarried a Danish prince and gave him a child. I, myself, also remarried. Cecilia, a daughter from the powerful York family in England. Every day we try, every night, even some mornings, but none have been successful. I've gone to the priest and asked him what truly is wrong with me. That a woman can't give me a child, but can give another man.

     My council is doubting my reign, lack of an heir means the end of my line, the end of the line my father worked so hard to place in royalty. My council has been having secret meetings, my mother tells me. She says that they need to find a young man who is capable of filling my shoes, capable of replacing me. She tells me that she will never allow anyone without Renly blood to take the crown, that she will claim a cousin, or anyone related to me to take over. If it comes to that, of course. But she has as much doubt as I do, that it won't come to that.

     I rise from my bed and walk out my room, down the halls.

     I think I am cursed. In fact, I know I am cursed. That is what the priest told me. That I can no longer have children, that I am infertile. A curse. A curse placed on me with the help of my father. An evil king who did evil things to innocent people. Why wouldn't they curse me, when the son of a man who killed children and the elderly, is sitting on the golden throne. I would curse myself. God, why!? Why place such a curse on me. In fact I think you did this to me, you took your anger on my father and placed it on me! I am an innocent man. An innocent man who can't have children. What is the point of being a king with no heir to the throne? God, please! Please give me a child! It has been 13 years and I am getting old, and soon I will for sure not be able to have children. Time is running out! The clock is ticking! Give me a child!

     I hear the ringing of bells coming from the royal church. The bells of coronation. I run into the church, pushing the thick wooden doors aside to see the pope placing my golden crown on a young boy's head. The crown of diamonds and golden crystals sit on the boy's head as the pope hands the boy my golden scepter with golden metal petals that sprout from its zenith. The boy sits on the throne, the chair was carved of a fine oak, crested with several jewels and adorned with luminescent metals.

     "Long live King Abel!" the pope says as he steps aside and bows to the young boy.

     "Long live King Abel!" the crowd of people respond.

     "Long live King Abel!" a woman says to his right.

     The woman looks at me and I stumble back when my eyes meet her amber eyes. It is almost mid-morning and the sun is bright, unshielded by clouds, but the boy's eyes shine just as bright with its yellow-copper color. Amber.

     I look back at Audrey who is smiling and rubbing the shoulder of the boy.

     She winks her signature wink.

     The amber-eyed curse.