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Edward sat on his mock throne, drinking a cup of ale and celebrating triumph. Harps played on the balcony of his great hall, and his men merited with him in utter jollyness.
'The poor bastard,' said Lord Snowden, 'Thought he would be King.'
Yes, the bastard had thought so, and that was his weak spot as he had not foreseen his death was imminent. Edward's troops had waited on the banks of the river conjoined to the Hibernian Tiber, awaiting word from the watchman they had sent to spy on the Duke at his wedding. Edward had wanted him dead then and there, but his war commander had told him, he must respect the house of god, or otherwise his people wouldn't respect his.
It was nightfall when the watchman returned. 'beautiful wedding,' he concluded. 'pretty bride, wouldn't mind to fuck her to die.'
The watchman reported he had seen the Duke kiss his lady bride goodbye, and then left in his carriage the moment they were joined in holy matrimony. 'Bells been ringing ever since the two of them became lawfully husband and wife.'
Edward's troops had inquired which direction, and he told them 'West, towards Monaldi Town.' Ten dozen men had followed the tracks of his carriage wheels, and thus discovered him at an old perish. The Duke had a mere handful of guards along with him, slaughter like pigs on a farm. 'So surprised, they did nothing as we cut through 'em.'
The Duke had been brought to Edward, and sentenced him to a traitorous death.
'Tonight!' roared Edward at his feast. 'They will say this was the moment my reign has began! drink my friends, fill your bellies with wine and spawn some bastards with my wenches!'
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Life Recreated
RomanceWhen the most powerful man on the earth falls deadly ill, with no heirs to take his place; his crown is to be given to one of his closets relative. The Duke of Pessline South. But when the Duke, unexpectedly gets murdered, the successor is inconclus...
