The Auburn Prince by Adam Zmarzlinski

Author:Adam Zmarzlinski [Zmarzlinski, Adam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Monotreme Press
Published: 2020-02-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

A Caged Bird

“It is true,” said Perow, the King Consort of Vivéret. “My stepson and his fiancé were murdered in cold blood by assassins sent from our neighbor, the Grand Duchy of Oswald. Our noble knights caught the murderers and in an attempt to save their own skin from the noose, they spilled the conspiracy clean like black ink on a white parchment.”

The crowd stared silent at the King Consort.

“We’ve learned that after the murder, the bodies of our beloved Prince and his fiancé were dumped into the depths of Oshmiel Lake. Pure savagery! The assassins were to be brought back to the Capital to face justice, but unfortunately, news of their capture reached the ears of the rulers of the Duchy, who sent assassins to dispose of their assassins. A couple of our knights survived the attack; the best doctors in the land are now treating their injuries in the royal infirmary.”

The King Consort paused, his voice cracking. The glum crowd looked on.

“I, the King Consort, decree that the next three days be those of mourning the Prince and his love. In a symbolic gesture, the court will host all citizens in this hall to pay their respects, starting this afternoon.”

The King Consort covered his face with his hand. A stream of tears ran down his cheeks. He wiped them away before they fell to the ground. The crowd watched him, breaths ahold.

“I… the kingdom will not stand for this treachery, for this horror and vile act. As we mourn, we must be ready to lay justice upon the rulers of the Duchy. Hence, I, the King Consort, regrettably decree that in five days’ time, Vivéret’s army will march upon the cowards of Oswald and bring the murderers of our Prince and his fiancé to justice! This will be a just war! An honorable war! We shall harm no civilians. Our only enemy is the Duke and Duchess of Oswald, their corruption, hatred and ill will toward all men. We go to war for their freedom!”

“For the Prince!” a voice yelled from the crowd.

“For justice!” sounded another.

“For Vivéret!” the crowd began and the cheering grew louder and louder still until the whole of the Capital, from the greatest man to the smallest child praised the kingdom, the glory, the war and the King Consort.

“For Vivéret,” Perow said and disappeared into the back halls of the keep.

After a war plan meeting with his generals, the rest of his morning and early afternoon passed as any other: he read ancient texts in the library, reviewed and signed economic policy, documents and decrees, pretended to pray at the chapel of the Windcallers, strolled the royal gardens and ate a meal of veal, potatoes and salad on the grand balcony overlooking the city. When the time for theatrics arrived, he dressed in a fine black suit with a deep purple collar; thin decorative silver chains ran from his left shoulder to his right chest pocket where a beautiful white rose lay. The fire that hung above his spiraling crown changed from red to black.

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