Long Live The King

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***Percy***
"Long live the king!" I heard the people shout, their faces upturned towards where I stood on the dais next to my father's tomb. I felt the familiar claw of grief strike me as I gazed at it.i was only 20 years old and the king of England. Now, more responsibilities than ever rested on my shoulder, like a heavy cloak given to me that I could not cast aside.
My mother stood beside me, her eyes glittering with tears. She had birthed six sons and all of them had died, but me, the youngest and her last child. Now, her husband had joined her stillborn children and parents. I was the only family she had left.
I squeaked my mother's hand and we walked back towards the stone castle, followed by a host of courtiers and servants, all vying for our favor. "He'll be in Heaven now," I told my mother.
She nodded, but tears still felt from her cheeks. Like any noble man, my own face was wet with grief. "I shall join him soon," My mother sighed.
"Thou shall live much longer, dearest mother," I told her. "Thine life is still being woven like a tapestry. Don't cut it short."
My mother nodded, but her face was heavy with the grief that had weighed me down like a knight's armor for the last two weeks. "He shouldn't have died," my mother said.
My mother had been saying that since my father mysteriously fell ill. He had always been as strong as an ox and could joust with the finest knights, but three weeks ago, he had become paler than a Scottish princess and weaker than a newborn kitten.
I led my mother up to her richly furnished chambers. She had decorated it with fine tapestries and portraits of my father, King Poseidon, in all his glory. There was one of me too, with a purple cloak draped over my broad shoulders. My mother turned towards me as she sat down on her bed. "Son," she said, holding my hands in her own. "Thou are king now. Thou must think of thine future. Thou must wed soon."
I nodded, thinking of how I was unsure of whom I intended to marry. "Speak to thine companions," my mother said. "Perhaps they can help thou decide whom to wed."
I nodded and stood up to leave. When I arrived at the dining hall, Octavian leered at me. "King Percy," he said, though the respect in his voice was fake. "Are you looking for a bride?"
I nodded, still feeling numb with grief, as if I spent all day swimming in frigid waters. "Wine, my lord?" a girl asked, her blonde hair tumbling to her shoulders.
"Thanks, Gwen," I said.
"Thou should marry Princess Rachel," Thalia said, blunt as always.
Thalia was the daughter of Lord Zeus, but he had died recently, leaving her and her brother Jason fatherless. Their mother had already died in childbirth. "A marriage with Princess Rachel would bring peace to our country," the Knight Frank commented.
I looked at Princess Rachel who was chatting with one of her ladies-in-waiting at another table. She was comely with curly red hair, skin as pale as snow, and snake-green eyes, but I didn't really know her. "Thou shouldn't marry her," Octavian growled. "Thou can't trust the Scottish."
"Marrying her would bring peace between England and Scotland," Thalia argued. "Scotland would become part of England. Her father has no sons."
"Marry another princess, then," Octavian said. "Thou can't trust them. They're backstabbers. Has thou heard of how Macbeth killed King Duncan years ago? He reigned for several years before Malcolm was installed on the throne. The Scottish people are power-hungry. We need a virtuous queen, not a traitor."
"Princess Rachel has been nothing but loyal," Thalia hissed.
I sighed. Everyone wanted me to Princess Rachel, but I didn't love her. She was smart and funny and quite feisty, but not my type. "Or thou could marry Lady Reyna," Octavian suggested.
Lady Reyna was the daughter of a knight. From what I knew, she was intelligent and calculating. Her father taught her to use knives in case she needed to protect herself. Life in England was filled with danger. "Or you could marry Princess Annabeth," Jason suggested to the shock of everyone at the table.
"A French queen?" Octavian said. "That's even worse than a Scottish one. Besides, the French are weak. We always subdue them on the battlefield. We have no need to ally ourselves with them."
"It was just a suggestion," Jason said, not meeting anyone's eyes.
"I bet Annabeth paid thou to say that!" Octavian snickered.
Jason stood up. "My brother is honorable," Thalia growled.
"About as honorable as a cat," Octavian said in a withering tone.
"Quiet down!" I commanded and the table fell to silence. "I will decide who I will take as my bride."
"Thou must decide soon," Octavian said, not even hiding his disgust.
"I know," I said before standing up and leaving.
As I was walking to my chambers, I sighted a comely girl. She was blonde with eyes as grey as a knight's armor. She was thin and not as pale as many at court, but something about her face made me wish to stop and stare at it. She was wearing a lovely velvet gown and mantle. A lady-in-waiting stood at her side, who she was chatting with. "Monsieur Leo est très drôle," the blonde said.
"Oui," her companion said.
It was the French princess: Annabeth. When she saw me, she pulled herself into a curtsy. "King Percy," she said in flawless English, not even a trace of an accent present.
I was impressed. "Good day to thou, Princess Annabeth," I said.
I walked to my chambers, feeling lighter than I had for the past three weeks. So this was the French princess. I decided that I should like to get to know her better.

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