We'll Never be Royals

✥︎ 11 ✥︎

King And Boy

Akaashi Keiji
Present Day

The palace was just as grand as the stories told. It took Keiji's breath away the moment he stepped foot out of the carriage. It towered over the whole city, reaching up into the heavens. The palace back home would never compare to the one he stood in front of now.

Though, his marveling only lasted momentarily before servants were leading him and his family towards the grand entrance. His body was struck down with fear, a whole shiver takings its way head to toe through his body.

Right behind those doors was the man he feared and hated. Inside this palace was the king who took his life away.

He let out a shaky breath, and he could feel his body freezing. One of his elder brothers, who walked along side of him, gently wrapped a hand around his wrist. Keiji looked up at him, to find Nijo offering him an encouraging smile. It didn't do much, but the grip on his wrist kept him moving forward.

The doors opened with a loud roar, and suddenly, Keiji couldn't breath. There, sitting on the largest thrown Keiji's ever seen... was King Koutarou. The king who slaughtered thousands.

His presences was strong, the Alphan pheromones radiating off of him weighing down on Keiji's body. The servants that led them in bowed, their backs arched and foreheads pressed against the cold ground. His family followed suit.

But Keiji refused. He clenched his fists and stood tall, though his eyes stayed glued to the floor. He felt a small tug on his robes and his mother's soft voice, "Keiji, bow."

No, he would not bow to this man. He would not give him the pleasure of his submission.

From where he stood, he heard King Koutarou rise from his throne. He wore a large, heavy mantle, one that was black and gold. It looked like it was made of the finest materials on this earth. And tucked beneath his mantle, the sword attached to his hip gleamed in the light.

That sword was one that claimed many lives. It's touched enough blood to fill the seven seas.  The heads it's decapitated could build a fortress.

Just thinking of it had Keiji's neck tingling, as if it's been slit itself.

The heavy steps from King Koutarou's boots echoed against the stone walls. He could hear the small clinking sound of his sword hitting the ground with each one of those ranting steps. And as the king grew nearer, Keiji could feel his presence stronger.

"Keiji," his mother spoke again, her words shaking, "bow."

But it was too late. What Keiji's view used to be of the floor, was now a pair of two, large black boots. King Koutarou stood in front of him, the shadow of his figure looming over Keiji like a beast's shadow would. He was so close, Keiji could feel the heat from the man's body, he could feel his breath fanning across his face.

Fear coursed through his veins and he could feel his fingers trembling. He clutched his fists, willing the shaking to stop. He was sure everyone in the room could smell the fear off of him, but that didn't stop him from holding his ground.

Slowly, Keiji lifted his head to finally face the King of Fukurodani. Keiji met gold eyes, which were bright and dull at the same time. The color itself was bright, but there was a glaze of dullness that fogged the King's eyes. His face was unreadable, owlish eyes peering down at Keiji. His stare was intense, and the lack of emotion in his face had Keiji shrinking just a bit.