King

What would a person with a dark secret do, when the world is coming to an end?

—

“His madness was killing us all.

It was the cause for the country’s downfall, the cause for my Mary’s downfall.

I needed her, to live, to stay, and to rule.

I loved her, more. More than a son loves a father.

Though it meant the end of an era, a king had to be killed.

Not in jealousy or ambition, but for the greater good.

But for love, love for the country, love, for the most beautiful queen.”

—

Bright sunlight hit my eyes, when my Mary was in a white dress, as beautiful, as the first time I saw her. So pure, so strong. She pulled me out of the bed, the sheets crumbled up. I was walking down the hallway as I overheard my mother speaking to her good friend- a madman, he spoke of prophecies which he saw- what I never believed in. I ignored the conversation as it was very usual. I went on to the council for another session of the matters of court. A few days past, just like that, Mary started looking worried, mother looked worried, and so did Sebastian. They were good at hiding things from me; they had done it before, sometimes out of fear and sometimes of pain. I knew they loved me, but I would love to know things. Things that trouble them, fears I could talk them out of, console them. Something was wrong, but this time it was different than the rest of the times, it seemed more severe. I tried to find out I tried so hard to get through to them.

The last time they put up this behaviour was when they found out I was ill, and that I did not have time. It seemed worse than my illness. I spent days wondering and then let it go.

Mary came to my chambers every morning, to wake me up; she never did that earlier, not so often, not when we were in an argument. Mary, who was focused on the country, she was fierce, like a mother is for her child, she was dedicated, and she would put everything behind for the country. She had diverted, she spent most of her time with me, was it just my illness? Could it be that? She did all the things for me, that I always wanted to do, things I never thought she would remember. As happy as it might sound. Something was wrong.

Sebastian, the brother someone could die for, and a man all women would kill for. Someone who put on his best behaviour, even in the worst times, would be the light in the darkest of times. A man of adventure and sport- hunting and riding. Sebastian, who completed everything I thought of, every wish, every hope. He too, was worried about something, it was unlike him. He started visiting me more often, took me away to the woods, and discouraged me from giving more time to my kingly duties. He didn’t enjoy these duties, but talking me out of it, was unlike him. He wasn’t someone who would believe in that madman- the whisperer. Something was wrong.

My mother, proved it, she despised Mary, after she knew some wildly unreasonable prophecy, which spoke about my demise. It was all a lie. My Mary is the sweetest there is, and there ever will be. My mother was fierce for me; she could go any lengths, for me. Seemed like she heard another, from her friend, who told her stories, whispered them in her ears, made her weary of everything around. She was the strongest woman I knew. She started ignoring her duties, she did everything by keeping me in the centre, she seemed to be happy in my company, and yet in distress. Something was wrong.

I heard her, again, speaking to the man, the man that seemed to be the cause of worry stirring in their minds. The man who always seemed to have their trust, but I never seemed to reason out why. I heard him say, “It will be the end, your Majesty, the end, of everything. Everything that is yours, everything that is mine. Everything that mattered and everything that you think didn’t. Having visions is not a blessing- more of a curse.”

What did he mean to say?

I asked my brother, I pressed for the information; I needed to know what bothered them so much more than my illness once had. I needed to know.

“He sees the end of the world, brother dear. He does not see when.”

—

Would I want to trust the uncertain news from a madman?

The madman, as everyone called him, but my dearest family trusted? Would I pay no heed to warnings now and repent after?

I trusted my brother’s judgment.

But would I want to invest in a prophecy that had no way to be verified? Or would I choose to believe in it and but all my responsibilities aside? I could not let the news out; it would only be the cause of unrest- unrest would make us look weak.

I could not.

I thought of it, repeatedly, and lived on the coming days like the other days, since it had to be kept a secret. I had regrets, things I wish I had done.

But I was relieved on one side; I would not have to confess a greater- darker happening. I kept on thinking.

The knowledge of a treason committed, is proof enough, to link you to a crime you did not commit. I wanted my loved to be able to swear by the God and deny the knowledge of my treasonous act.

But, uncertainty, what if he really was telling the truth, they would not believe in him so strongly without reason? What if the end was near? Would I want to leave after living a lie? Is that was I was choosing?

A spiral of thoughts, only going up, and me, falling; only going down, while trying to put on a show. My father used to teach us, “Being king is a performance.” And only now did I understand, constantly living on the stage.

That man was truly an example of a great king, the kind I can only dream to be.

Why was I thinking about him?!! Had I forgotten everything?! Had I forgotten what he made me do?!

The news that arrived stirred up all sorts of thoughts in my head, all at once. I needed to rest.

I came back to the earlier thought, to my present, would I want to confess?

The violet skies turned lighter, and I had to break into reality. Being King can really leave you helpless. I had the kind of information, I could do nothing with. That left me disturbed. Again, like always, I rushed to my brother a blurted out what I should never have:

“His madness was killing us all!

It was the cause for the country’s downfall, the cause for my Mary’s downfall.

I needed her, to live, to stay, and to rule.

I loved her, more. More than a son loves a father.

Though it meant the end of an era, a king had to be killed.

Not in jealousy or ambition, but for the greater good.

But for love, love for the country, love, for the most beautiful queen.

On the day when the festivities began, the jousting match, the soldier who aimed at his neck…”

He interrupted me, smiled, and said’ “I know it’s you when I see you, little brother.”

The weight had lifted. The weight of my father’s ghost was leaving my shoulders. A sense of relief- more than that- solace. I had never felt this way, while my heart had burst out into tears, I smiled up at my brother and wished for nothing more, no more did I fear that the world would come crashing down, or I would have to dread my ruling days, I could not stop smiling at him, I could do anything for him at that moment, and I said it, “I could kill for you right away!”. Being the light of my life, he replied, “Let us go hunting!”.

His worried face changed to a comforting smile and that was when I knew I would not have a thing to regret.

From that day on, I would just allow my Mary to carry my day on and my mother to be much more religious than she usually was.

From that day on, I came ahead as a lighter and happier man- I was told.

Somehow, the news that brought everyone around me distress, gave me a reason to be relieved of the ghosts hanging down my spine.

I hadn’t forgotten about what I had heard. But the uncertainly of it seemed insignificant to me anymore.

Is that how you feel when the heaviest stone is lifted from your heart?

From that day on, I decided to let my Queen choose my day, not mere instinct, not my illness and certainly not a prophecy.

—