I sit on the edge of the window over looking the garden and stare, dwelling on the thought that this in fact may be the biggest battle England will be apart of. The lives’ that will be lost, the blood that will be shed, the bloody battlefield that will soon be called the Devil’s Hideout, the … A soft knock on the door pushes me back into reality. Jack, the King’s most trustworthy guard is appraising me curiously “My lord, the King has summoned your presence.” He says matter of fact, as if I should have known that. “Thank you, I shall be there shortly.” With a nod, he is out of the door. I stand up and stare out the window towards the garden once more watching as the children squeal in delight when one of the guards chases them around the apple tree. Knowing that will possibly be the last time they may very well see him. I look away. I sadly shake my head, as I exit the doors, slamming the door behind me with a reverberating shake. *** As I enter the King’s corridor, Adrian and James are already there neck deep into conversation with our King. “Yes, My Lord, we shall invade Tuesday after manana.” That’s ludicrous. There’s no possible way that plan can go untarnished without getting innocent people killed. “That, my kind sir, is the most absurd plan I have ever heard,” I say. “Ah, Christian, my good sir.” The King appraises. “What do you believe should be the right route we shall follow then if this one is clearly absurd?” He asks with a hint of irritation in his voice. I go with my gut feeling. Dammit, here we go. “My Lord, you have chosen three of the most prestigious men in the entire kingdom and you have devised a plan that will very much kill innocent people and will kill off half of your men as well.” There’s an eerie silence and I think to myself, did that just cost me a trip to the guillotine. “You’re wasting precious time, Mr. Bronte.” He says his eyes hardening. Damn, I’m as good as dead as ever. "Finish your sentence.” He commands. “My Lord, as I was say saying you should send over spies. Get them into the Kingdom. Make the King trust them, sleep with his daughters maybe marry off one of them and trust me once you see that there guards are down. Attack! “I say jumping up and pretending to draw out a knife and stab Adrian in the stomach. “Ah. Mr. Bronte, you’ve done well. Yet I can’t fathom the idea of you wanted one of my men to sleep nor be married off to one of his daughters?” He says watching me quizzically. My dear, I chuckle to myself, a first seeing the man in charge of this Kingdom puzzled. I regain myself quickly as I notice him waiting for my answer. “You see once their King notices what a catch “your men” are with his daughters he is going to be eating out the palm of their hands and besides it preoccupies him from the true task at hand and I know from a friend in England that the King’s eldest daughter has had her 3rd divorce. It shouldn’t be that hard with a women that would very easily fall into the wits if say one of your may marry her.” “Oh! How delightful!” The King squeals gleefully. “And by the eldest daughter you do mean Katherine, the beautiful. She’d always been a beauty, a sight for sore eyes truly.” Hmm, really maybe, NO I dismiss the thought from my head. Never mix pleasure with business, I myself might not even be set upon this mission. The King claps his hands cheerfully and with a wicked smile says,” May the games descend.” We find ourselves in The Great Ballroom waiting for our King to deliver the news. The electricity surrounding us as if it were Christmas morning, with men whispering happily about finally being able to take control over London. Damn, damn them all into a fiery Hell. How in the world can they be so damn happy about this? Truly my loyalty to my country runs deep, but killing innocent people. No, I must not think this. I cannot let myself get lost into what is true to me. After all, I myself came up with the plan. Bloody Hell, what have I gotten my self into. London is not my home anymore. They betrayed me. Took away my innocence and murdered my soul. Taking all the love I have ever felt. Bastards. All of them. “Gentlemen, I hope you are as satisfied as I am with Mr. Bronte’s work. He has not only given us an advantage, but he has fully intended that we will succeed in our determination to overtake London." He says, his voice reverberating throughout the entire room as he smiles broadly towards me. I tilt my head in his direction and smile, knowing that I didn't smile the way that I should have. Surely when a King calls you out and praises you, you should feel radiant, glee as though you are the most important man in all of England. Yet, how can someone smile and pretend that it's alright, that he has no problem killing people and taking control over woman. Damned for an eternity in Hell, if Mother ever found out, damn. She'd never forgive me, taking control of woman like that. May god bless her soul. Realizing that I'm frowning and glaring in the direction of the King I look up. Thank the good Lord that he is not looking at me, yet talking to one of the other chancellors. I start walking off towards the French doors and finally was able to fully appreciate the panorama of the great outdoors and how beautiful and quite awe-struck I am with being able to being one of the Kings loyal subject even though I don't actually subject with everything he says. I still feel awful that my plan is the one being hatched, the only reason I said what I said was because I was afraid to be sent off to the guillotine. Yet, I still can't let the wave of relief wash over me that innocent people won't be getting killed. I let the calm breeze of the lake go over me and smile. Knowing that tomorrow the King will be gone and so will half his men. I smile at the thought. "Christian, the King has objected to your packing." James said from behind me making me turn around. "I thought I wasn't going." I said snapping. He puts his hand up and takes a step back. "Christian, you know very well, it was your plan he chose. You know damn well, you were going to end up being chosen to go." He says spitting the words at me. How dare he? The bastard. He acts as if I could care less about this plan. "Your audacity is not needed. Yes, he chose my plan. Upset it wasn't yours." I say smiling. "I'm both surprised and disappointed that you are here." I say adding and putting as much vemon into my words as possible. I take a step towards him and smile. He raises an eyebrow clearly surprised by my outburst. Good. "Christian, please." He scoffs. "Your not royal, you never were. If it wasn't for Elena you would be dead by now. She saved you from the streets, telling all the royals you were special. That your a deprived child that needs help and she would take full responsibility for you." He says mockingly. That's it. I lunge. Uppercutting him in the jaw sending him flying into French doors. I hear gasps in the distant, but I don't care for that right now. Right now all I see is him and I. He stares at me wide eyed. "James, I swear on all that is good in this Earth if you talk about my Mother in that manner again. I will KILL YOU!" I yell in his face pointing my hand accusingly at him. Out of nowhere two guards apprehend me. "Christian, calm down, the Head guard is coming." One of the guards grunts in my ear. Damn, I stare upward and there he is marching forward with authority in each stride. "James, stand up. Christian CALM DOWN." He yells. "What is going on? I want answers NOW." He barks. I say nothing staring at James and thinking what would have happened if I'd Kill him. I smile with satisfaction. Life would be easier. "Mr. Bronte since you are clearly satisfied with the turn of events. Please enlighten me." I stare up at this beast of a man.
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