You didn’t plan to fall in love with the woman your father, the king, was going to marry. But here you were; in the secret relationship you’d never have imagined, planning to kill your own father.
Chatter from your father filled the hall, what was usually a cheery atmosphere, felt tense for you. The weight of what was gonna happen making you feel nausea.
The way he spoke made you feel less guilty. Laughing at his citizens as he downed his wine, making fun of their funds and houses.
Helena, his wife, sat at the end of the table, nodding along to your father’s words, looking as pretty as ever, she appeared calm. But you noticed the slight changes in her. Which your father obviously couldn’t.
He’d never care about her enough too.
After your mother’s death, the atmosphere had changed. You’d never really liked your father, and for awhile he was your only supporter.
Not even a few months later, her was married; to a woman half his age. Which you hated, and he didn’t care.
But what turned to hatred, quickly turned to more than you’d expected. Love And it was requited.
So, you formed a plan: kill your father and rule the kingdom together. Which would be better for everybody.
Your eyes followed the maid walking over to the table, placing another glass off wine onto the table. Your breathe hitched as you realised which it was. The poison, which Helena had put in before; his final drink ever.
It was finally gonna end; he was gonna die.