15 October, 1345.
Stormhold Castle,
The walled city of Rothwell,
Capital of Myknos.
Prince Nicolas Alexander Tutton
Fleeting images of his mother as the cold hand of death squeezed around her throat, floated in and out of his mind taunting him to try and save her. He tossed and turned on the cold stone floor of the cell Khasi had thrown him into. His mind spun and reeled with images that he tried to ignore but how could he, when his conscience kept reminding him how stupid he had been.
His head pounded and his body shook with fever, combined effects of the guilt eating him up and the poison Khasi had injected into his system.
She always made sure to give a fresh dose each day or so he assumed; he couldn't tell how long he'd been down there and he sure as he'll didn't want to know. It hurt him to imagine what damage had been done to his kingdom.
He had never been a man of the people but that didn't stop him from feeling protective of them. He was the Crown Prince and he had a duty to fulfil. A duty to protect his people.
'Now you think of them as yours?' His subconscious asked, sardonic humor driping from each word.
A while ago he would have negated that thought. They were Henrik's by right and even in death, they still loved his brother. Him they feared. At least that was all he had thought he required of them.
Odeya, his mother, Alyn, even Hayden raced through his mind all fighting for a chance to curse him for his stupid decisions causing his head to reel as he rolled around groaning in pain.
"Odeya." He whispered, attempting to conjure up the bright gray eyes that had captured him.
An image of her on the dance floor during the ceilidh floated in his mind's eye and it eased a breath from him. He remembered how beautiful she looked trying to take in the beauty of the room.
Her eyes had been especially bright with the orange flames of the candles dancing in their icy depths and the golden light of the candles gave her a sort of ethereal glow that he couldn't shake off no matter how hard he blinked.
He remembered her laugh and the way her eyes darkened with his ministrations. Oh how he loved seeing her milky skin flush with desire for him. His chest tightened with longing as he prayed for one last moment with her.
He knew Khasi planned to execute him publicly to indicate the beginning of her rule but even with the shadow of death hanging over his head, Odeya was all that filled his mind.
He rolled to his side hoping to drown himself with the flood of memories of Odeya but a sharp pain on his hip brought him out of his daze.
He had forgotten about the sores that had formed on his skin because of the cold. The dreaded winter cold had come early this year and the stone floor he lay on hadn't failed to inform him of its presence. Khasi hadn't even spared him the kindness of blankets so he felt it quite severely.
Wincing, he turned to lie on his other side and let himself drown in the memories. That had been his resolve for the past few days. He let himself drown in the memories of her skin, her scent, her hair, the flush of her skin as he touched her and her voice. He let himself remember her witty come backs and the way she carried herself and he mourned.
He remembered her saying she didn't love him and he had known deep down it was a lie but still, he let his pride get in the way.
He could have fought for her, he should have fought for her but instead he chased her away and ignored her warnings and now his kingdom had turned to shit.
He heard a muffled sound outside his cell doors and his body readied for the pain that was sure to come. Khasi always made sure the guards kick him to a comatose state before administering the drug to leave him in this disoriented state.
Just then he heard a groan and a sharp thud as if a fight was going on outside his door.
What the...
The sound of keys jingling as it was placed into the keyhole and the click that followed frightened him, a painful thing to admit, but he readied himself.
When the door swung open, he pretended to be asleep and held his breath, listening to the sound of approaching foot steps. His heart rate quickened and all his muscles tensed as he waited. It was the wait that annoyed him the most.
A hand tapped him and he jolted in fright.
"Calm yourself Nico." The owner of the hand said. The voice sounded vaguely familiar but he couldn't place it. "Time is running out. We have to move before they sound the bells."
He wondered who his supposed saviour was and tried to ask but his voice came out as a hoarse croak.
"Here man." The man said handing him a wine skin.
Nicolas took it greedily and drank till his throat no longer burned. He coughed and handed the wine skin back to him. He sat now and looked around, his eyes feeling clearer as he did so. He looked at the man finally and smiled for the first time in a long time at the familiar face.
"Khalid." He whispered.
"Took you long enough." He mused, "Now let's move. My sister's guards will be upon us soon."
I'm sure you guys were wondering were Khalid had been all this time. Well here he is.
Oh its a short chapter but I'm so happy all the same.
Two chapters this week.
Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed reading this story so far.
Its getting more intense if I do say so myself.
So vote, comment, recommend amd have a lovely day.
Ciao😘
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A Kings Surrender
Historical Fiction"Oh really. I'd say you really enjoyed my visit." He said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He walked closer to her until she had to use her hand to stop him from crushing her against the wall. He bent his head and nipped a small line from her n...
