Back in the Coral Bastion Palace, King Jaho had locked down the palace. No one could enter nor exit until the moon stopped bleeding. Bunneras were hanging everywhere, inside and outside.

“What is that noise?” The king yelled, sitting in the bath. A loud banging noise was heard all the way up to the king’s chambers.

“Jaspar is hanging up a portrait.” Timar answered.

Timar had been helping the king with his bath and was applying a minty ointment to his scarred back. Remnants of a curse.

“Do you think my son is weak, Timar?” The king asked suddenly, causing Timar to drop the ointment in the cool water.

“I…..think….the prince…… is wise.” He stuttered.

The king laughed. “Wise. The boy is naive.”

The king suddenly came to a standing position in the bath, water splashing everywhere.

Timar quickly covered him with his red robe. “To bed, sir?”

“To bed.”

***

The lavish room of King Jaho was adorned with draping tapestries with drawings of foxes on each wall. The only light came from flickering candles on a table pushed against the wall. As he moved through the chamber, he walked with a noticeable limp. Remnants of a curse.

He paused before a large mirror and removed his heavy crown, setting it aside for the night. He let his fingers brush against the heavy material. As he did, it finally hit him. The crown was fading. Its once shimmering gems are fading. Sfin has decided. A new reign must be ushered in.

“Your Majesty,” came a soft voice from the doorway suddenly. It was Jaspar, his loyal servant, carrying a small glass filled with cold water. He took the glass from him and set it on the carved wooden table before him.

“Thank you, Jaspar,” he said, forcing a smile. “Has my son sent a letter?”

Jaspar shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

The king picked up the glass and took a small sip, before placing it back down. “Do you think my son is weak? Do you think he can handle the pressure of being king?”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Jaspar’s eyes darted away from the king and onto the tapestry behind me. “I think…..” Jaspar paused.

The king reached out towards Jaspar’s chin and forced him to look into his eyes.

“Speak.” He commanded.

“I think your son understands duty outweighs his desires.” He answered, satisfied with his answer.

“And?”

“Your son will put the crown before anything.” He answered. “Like he always has. Even if it means hurting the one he loves.”

The king let go of Jaspar’s chim.

“Do you think my son is wise?”

Jaspar let out a small chuckle. “He’ll learn.”

Suddenly, another soft voice came from the doorway. The two whipped their heads in the direction of the voice. A tall woman wearing a long red, sequined dress was standing there.

“Your Majesty.” Jaspar said softly, then bowed.

“Myriam.” The king acknowledged, smiling. “My Queen.”

“Darling….” She drawled. “Did you miss me?”

The king turned back to Jaspar and dismissed him with a wave.

Once they were alone, the king walked over towards the bed and gestured for the queen to join him. It had been a while since the two shared a bed. Lately, Queen Myriam had been having her fits, causing her to be confined to a separate room.

“You know….he desires to sit on the council.” She spoke, once they settled underneath the heavy covers.

Jaho waved her off.

“How are you feeling?” He responded instead. “Are you feeling better now?”

Myriam laughed loudly. “This place……”

Jaho turned on his side. “What about it?”

Myriam dipped her head into the king’s chest.

“This place drives you insane.” She whispered. “And they say Siré is cursed.”

Jaho gently put some distance between the two.

“What are you talking about, Myriam?” He asked, pretending not to know.

Myriam slowly took in her bottom lip and stared into the king’s eyes. After a long moment, she shook her head. “Let’s just go to bed.”

For Lady Myriam, of Siré blood, she was not a stranger to the peculiar. But the longer she lived in the Palace, the longer she was married to the king, she felt herself changing. Jaho took a long look at his wife before kissing her on the forehead.

“Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, my king.”

Four hours later

A persistent knocking. It was only a matter of time before it woke the king.

The king’s eyes shot open and his arm instinctively reached out for Myriam. But Myriam was no longer there.

“Myriam.” He quivered. “Not again.”