I had seated myself upon a low rock beside the road. The grass of the field swayed with the wind, and my dark cloak, heavy with the dust of travel, shifted slowly upon my shoulders. I lingered there for a long while, my head bowed, as if the weight of my thoughts were heavier than a crown. When I saw thee pass, I resolved to speak. First, I cast mine eyes upon the ground, and then I lifted them to thee.

“My father was but nine-and-thirty years old,” I said, my voice low, my hands gripping the edge of the rock. “Too young for the gods to call him from this world.”

I shook my head, the wind tugging at my cloak. “Within him lay the making of kings, the very stuff of rulers. By my name and by my blood, he would have been the greatest king since Aegon the Conqueror, the Dragon himself.”

I rose to my feet, pacing a few steps along the worn path. “All the realm knew it. The knights, the lords, even the common men. And yet the gods took him.”

I stopped, staring at the distant hills, my fists clenched. “Tell me, if thou knowest aught of the will of heaven, why do they do such deeds? Why snatch away a man just, strong, and wise, and leave others to walk beneath the sun unscathed?”

I sank back onto the rock, brushing my hair from my face. “I know well it is not fitting for a prince to speak thus. The pious would call it sin to think so, to even whisper such thoughts. Yet my heart finds no peace.”

I looked at thee then, eyes glimmering with grief. “Tell me, why my father? Why was he taken and not Duncan? What cruelty is this, that the just fall while others linger? That a king’s son should grieve while fools are spared?”

I pressed my hands upon my knees, the leather of my gloves worn and stiff. “The weight of his absence crushes me more than any siege, more than any battle. I see his face in every shadow, hear his voice in the wind, and yet he is gone, snatched away by a fate none can reckon.”

I lifted my gaze to the sky, clouds drifting slow and solemn. “Could the gods be so blind, so cruel, as to take a man fit for legend and leave the world bereft of justice? I cannot answer. I cannot understand. Yet I must bear it, as a prince, as a son, and as one who must someday wear a crown heavier than grief itself.”