Assassin || Tommyinnit

chapter xi

Wilbur knew he put no effort into it, he knew that it was only one to two lines long.

He didn't know what they expected, because he wasn't thankful to become king at all.

As Phil's voice rang in the back of his head, his eyes, which were still wandering the crowd, locked onto a specific kid.

More so, three specific kids.

Wilbur eyed them warily, they were dressed in all black, definitely were equipped.

If Wilbur didn't know better, he'd assume this was an assassination plot of some sort.

But he did know better.

At least, he thought he did.

They looked like children. Like small children who had come to watch a coronation.

The dark and uniformed black clothing could be just a coincidence.

The rockets and wheels on their shoes could be some sort of a costume, some sort of a game.

The gun in the tallest one's pocket could be a figment of Wilbur's sheer imagination.

The grappling hook in the shortest boy's hand could just be a toy, a plaything of sorts.

But the anger in the middle one's eyes, as he glared at the emperor giving a speech;

Wilbur couldn't fathom an excuse for the pure and unfiltered hatred in his eyes.

And as of so, Wilbur stayed weary.

The middle boy met his gaze, and Wilbur froze.

It scared him of how strong his hallucinations were getting.

It scared him of how much the boy reminded him of Tommy.

He blinked rapidly, trying to escape the boy's hopeful yet piercing glare.

When he was out of whatever spell he was under, he shook his head embarrassed.

The boy had dark purple eyes, his hair was almost a dirty blonde, it covered his eyes unnaturally.

It wasn't his brother, who had the brightest blue eyes, similar to the sky on a glorious sunny day, and springy yellow blonde hair, unmatched by even the petals of the freshest sunflowers.

Yet...

He was going insane.

A harsh tap on his shoulder shook him from his spiraling mind.

Wilbur looked up, and was met with the smile of his father.

He nodded slightly, before slightly pushing Wilbur down, to get him to stand on one knee.

"Place one hand upon your heart."

Wilbur followed his father's instructions blindly, facing the people of what was going to be his country.

He'd be lying if he denied the fact that he was only staring at a singular person in the crowd.

Hopeful purple eyes met his desperate brown ones.

"By heart and hand, do you vow to rule the Antarctic Empire, with wisdom and integrity, in sun or storm?"

Wilbur lied straight through his teeth. "By heart and hand, I vow this."

The boy with the purple eyes looked at him knowingly; as if he could see right through Wilbur.

Phil continued.

"By heart and hand, do you vow to protect and serve all citizens of the Antarctic Empire with courage and mercy, bestowing fair justice to noble and common blood alike?"