Darkness in the Rule

Chapter 1 - The Stables

The evening sun gently flickered through the palace windows as the King made his way down the winding spiral staircase, pulling on and tightening his leather gloves. His previous royal attire had been taken to the wash for the day after his speech, covered in his sweat from the sun. His leather boots were the only thing remaining from his outfit, the heels no longer clicking since it was now a stone floor beneath his feet. The man sighed, tightening on the last strap of his glove before opening the door to the stables. 

The fresh smell of horse feces filled his nose as he walked in, the edges of his lips rising at the sight of his magnificent horse, Peanut. "Hello dear~" The King purred, scratching her chin groove as she neighed in response. He had ridden her into battle during the war, knowing even now in the calm quiet evenings at the palace that she would do her duty well. To carry him, wherever he may need to go. Grabbing her already fitted bridal, the man unlatched the door and walked her out, seeing she was already tacked up for another ride. "The King is such a pompous bastard! All of those untied ropes and false promises, we're bound to be broke by the end of this all! He'll probably make us all pay for the debts of the war, not like we were even involved in it!" The King's heart beat in his ears, his grip getting tight on the leather strap of the bridal. Peanut shook her head in distress, noticing her owner's anger and frustration. 

"Hey you! What do you think of our tyrant?" The man shivered, cocking his head slightly towards the two men as he noted the other one leaving, a small little one left behind. He looked about 5'6", small in terms of body size and height but somewhat strong in terms of muscle. The man had short, shiny black hair that reached to about a couple inches over those lousy shoulders of his and his appearance was heavily disheveled. He looked like he hadn't seen a proper bath in his life. The King straightened himself out, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I believe he made good promises and I trust his judgements. He's a new King, give him some time before throwing around false rumors of untrustworthiness. The man led an entire army into battle and returned alive. Got to give him some credit." That should have done it, the man turning and beginning to leave before the other's voice filled his eardrums. The next words that flew in caused his back to rack up in anger, limbs twitching and shaking at the rage running through his system. The King's father tended to look like this, he remembered those like it was yesterday. The screaming, the throwing, the hitting. All of it. He was turning into that. Those words inflicted his veins like a virus, spreading quickly and causing damage as he shook. It didn't take anything more to cause him to snap.

Within seconds, the little man was slammed up against a pole in the stable walls, horses rearing up in sudden shock and crying out in the sight of the danger. His hand wrapped itself around his neck, not choking the poor man but trying to inflict fear into him. "What is your name. . ?" "I beg your pardon?" "What is your name?!" "Alexander." A bell seemed to ring in the back of his mind, a new door opening to his life. The King ignored it. He had better things to worry about at the moment. "Well Alexander. . . why don't you keep your goddamn mouth shut before I cause that pretty little face of yours to detach from your body!" Cold and hard, like steel. Just as the King wanted. A clever looking grin graced his handsome features but it didn't stop there. No it did not. "Do it then." "Excuse me?" "Cut my head off, I won't mind. It's not like I wanted to work here anyways."

Excuse me?! The King's eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out what exactly this man had just told him. Cut his head off?! Alexander must have balls of steel to say something like that to a King! "Do you even know. . . who I am?" His voice was timid and quiet, like a whisper floating on a night's wind. Who was this man? "I do, you're the King aren't you? Only a man would get so defensive about another if they were themselves." He's very observant, the King soon figured that out. "I am King Cole, ruler of Xandra. You dare speak to me like the dirty peasant you are and you will suffer the consequences." "Bring it on." Cole didn't have the energy to continued this nonsense, his gloved hand gently letting go of the delicate skin on the man's neck. He stepped back, his heels clicking once on the cobblestone foundation. This man-- wherever he decided to hail from, was something else. Indeed, no respect for authority and a sense of sarcasm and self worth that could be thrown off of a mountain and still survive. It was miraculous and completely terrifying at the same time. 

"Cat got your tongue, Your Majesty~?" Cole's gaze rose to meet the man's own, giving him a look of disappointment. "I believe my statement stands true, see you around." Alexander gave the King the bird before walking off, sending another stream of rage throughout his body. But. . . he held it back, mounting Peanut and getting the hell out of there before something else began. Something that could ruin his entire reputation as the King within the first week. Who is Alexander? Cole was destined to find out. For the time being, he'd enjoy the rest of his evening, yet that might prove difficult with the thought of that black haired man constantly lingering in the back of his crowded and busy mind.