As I sat in the dark room with many other men, I could feel the tension in the air. To my left and right were the nobles of Angolia. Not just any noblemen, but the elite of the elite. Mayors of rich lands who could afford massive fleets for their own greediness, dukes with large demesne that could muster armies that could take on small countries on their own and other people that could shape the history.
Angolia was a center of the world, after all. A kingdom with a rich history and culture that has lasted for a thousand years. Though, the kingdom itself changed as the time goes, even the origins of the nation itself forgotten as well as the culture, the kingdom still held the people together. However, the bigger a nation was, the bigger the threats.
I felt like if I said one wrong thing, I could get myself and my family killed. These men were all not what they seemed. Angolian nobles were said to be righteous, honorable and respectable. It was as if they came out of a fairy tale. However, looks could be deceiving.
“On the 5th of the week, on sun’s down, King Argo will visit Pheleyne to visit Count Jacoby. This is a good opportunity for us,” A man announced. The nobles were all snickering and chuckling themselves. I felt a bit nervous being in this crowd. I didn’t belong to this crowd, but I volunteered for this. I had resolved to give my life to Angolia a long time ago.
“I can’t wait to ‘give’ this dagger to that man.” A noble slammed a dagger onto the table, the elites all cheering. The noble had a mischievous smile. Obviously, he had done something horrifying to that dagger. When the king ‘receives’ it, the heavens would cry.
“He won’t see us pounce until the last minute!” Another man commented. More cheers were heard from the group.
“Excellent. We had been planning this for a long time. At last, we could see the fruits of our works,” A man with a coat embroidered with gold commented. That man was the Archduke Francois. The right hand man of the king himself! I couldn’t believe he was with this group at first. In fact, he’s even one of the heads of this group. However, I couldn’t blame him. After, what the king did to him…
“EVERYONE! It is time. We should rehearse.” The Archduke stood up, letting his medals given by the king himself jingle around. He cleared his throat. I never liked this part, but it wasn't like I had a choice. I mustered the courage, and concentrated on my duties. The other nobles, on the other hand, were enthusiastic.
“Ahem...ahem….Everyone. After me.” The Archduke held his hands like an orchestrator. He started waving his hands slowly.
“Happy birthday to youuuu! Happy birthday to youuuu! Happy birthday to our dearest King Argooo! Happy birthday to youuuu!” The group sang. When they finished, they all cheered and giggled like little girls. These grown men, youngest at 35 and oldest at 70, were all giddy and chatting like princesses.
“Excellent job! Don’t forget the plans for the party. Luckily, Count Jacoby has the venue already set and it’s just be-a-u-tiful!” The Archduke clapped. The noblemen discussed the plans with each other and even asking each other what gift they would give to the king.
“Duke Maaarloooy! That dagger, your looordship, so cuuute!” An old priest who looked over the western churches of Angolia commented towards the noble who took out the dagger.
“Oh, you! You flatter me! I bathed with this dagger! I hoped the king would accept it!” The nobleman replied. I knew it! The heavens would cry! When the other nobles heard that, they did a high-pitch cheer as if they just heard one of their friends get betrothed to a handsome prince from some far off land.
Indeed. While most nations were plagued with treachery and debauchery, Angolia was plagued with one nonsensical problem - Extremist Loyalists. When I said ‘one wrong thing could get me killed’, I meant it.
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King Argo was a charismatic man. A leader that led from the center. A man of honor, respect and kindness. He would lead with a compassionate and gentle fist. Both the peasantry and the nobles adored him. He was almost literally a storybook king that came out into reality. As a young man, he had slayed a wyvern with his own two bare hands and as he strangled the wyvern, his blond hair majestically fluttered in the air giving him the nickname ‘Fine-Hair’.
Archduke Francois was actually saved by King Argo once. He nearly fell off a ravine during a hunt but King Argo heroically saved him. After that, Francois’ been his most crazed and loyal fanboy.
“Duke Travor. What’s with you. You...you don’t seem very….ENTHUSIASTIC about this.” The Archduke looked over my direction. I felt cold sweat ran down my back. I took a deep gulp as all the elite looked over me with such hostility, you could feel daggers at your back. No, wait. There really were daggers poking me.
“I...No! No way! I’m like...so excited. I’m such a fanboy of the king that I….I...I COULD MARRY HIS BEARD!” I proclaimed loudly with the widest smile that I had ever given. Please forgive me, my wife! The nobles were all silent for a moment before cheering like little girls.
“Oh. My. Goddess! That was sooo cute! Quickly, Baron Aethling, put that in the Big Book of Fanboying!” The Archduke ordered. A baron took out a massive book and slammed it onto the table. It was so huge you could use it as a tower shield. The baron started writing what I said along with my name.
“Ah...no way, your lordship! No need! I feel so humbled! I just want to...like...marry his beard!” I tried to bluff.
“Oh no. We need our future generations to know which great men said what about our amazingly great and awe-inspiring King Argo!” Archduke Francois proclaimed. Oh Goddess no! What would happen if my sons would read that?! The men cheered loudly banging cups that said ‘I love the king!!!’. A nobleman sneezed loudly in the commotion.
“It’s so dirty and dusty here! We should clean up the meeting rooms more often,” He complained as he took out a piece of cloth to rub his nose with it.
“Oh my goshes, don’t tell me, is that…?” One of the dukes pointed at the nobleman’s cloth. The entire group looked at him and he smiled back at them cheekily.
“Fu..fu..fu...That’s right! This is the King’s undergarments! I took it when the King took a bath!” The nobleman rubbed the underwear on his face. These group of perverts!
“I’m so jealous! I wish I could be the head captain of the guards!” A nobleman moaned. The group all nodded in unison. I sighed tiredly and I felt all my energy was being drained just staying in this room.
One must ask, ‘What’s so bad with extremist loyalists?’. The answer was quite simple - These guys are fucking nuts. The king doesn’t even know he has a fanclub and these guys stalk him on a daily basis. Not only that, if you didn’t sing praises about the king every hour, every minute and every second of your waking life, you better be prepared to have a dagger on your back.
Once, the previous Archduke mentioned that the king’s hair was only ‘Fine’ and not ‘Amazingly Fabulous that I would dream about it everyday’, he and his entire family disappeared overnight. Apparently, according to some lords, the Archduke and his entire family and everyone related to him had to go on a boat trip for reasons only the Goddess would know. And by a coincidence, there was a storm that cast all 50 people down to the depths of the sea.
Too much loyalty was also detrimental to the realm. There was a man that spent all his taxes on making statues of the kings which lined the streets. By whatever divine force willed it, the king didn’t notice because he had never been to that city.
While more than half of the nobility were crazed fanboys of the king, we minority group, the Sane Nobles Faction, had to hide within the shadows to plot the freedom of the realm and the king from these middle-aged perverts. I was taking a big risk trying to be in this meeting. However, we were slowly losing this shadow war. Just last week, Baron Arthos disappeared when he didn’t know how tall the king was when asked by a stranger. After that, the members of the Sane Nobles had to memorize everything we knew about the king to the heart.
I leaned back on my chair, letting my body sink. I silently prayed to the Goddess of Light. If there was a huge reason for the Fanboy Club to split, it would attract attention from the king, surely. I gave myself a silent laugh. Of course. That was impossible...If only…
I thought to myself as I looked up at the old ceiling as the nobles around me sang ‘Happy birthday’.