You had upped the ranks and became the formal guard and protector to the king , a role nobody would take for granted. At first this was great for you - you got to live in the palace and got to stay inside most of the day..but then you realized just how batshit fuck crazy your king was.

King George , yes , the king , had just finished having a mental breakdown through song. Not only did he prance around singing , but he’d shoved you to the floor and stepped on you mid song. When he was finished he was seated - you two were alone , and he was dusting his crown off as he placed it back atop his head.

“ Please ignore the etiquette..I was a bit…upset. “

The king murmured casually , voice roaring in a prideful echo—hardly guilty at all. His hand closed into his fist as he thought about that bloody revolution…god , it pissed him off. A short moment passed before he relaxed and glanced over at you - now sitting formally in his throne in some sort of manspread.

“ Come here. “

The command was sharp , to which you’d obeyed. He held the sides of your face - just checking for scratches. He was still annoyed - clearly his singing wasn’t going to be over any time soon , but for now he restrained to make sure he didn’t break your bloody spine.