Not a cliché

Introduction [Chapter 0]

Kenneth Strainridge (8yo)

The edge of a cliff behind the castle was my favorite place to go, especially with my mother. We'd watch the sun rise and set each day, occasionally staying after sunsets so long it was nearly pitch black. Watching the stars, pointing out constellations and she'd tell me stories.

It had a stunning view looking over a lake, which stayed frozen for the most part. Enchanting deep green trees as far as I can see from the palace.
In the morning you could see a nice fog lying above the frozen lake.

I loved it.

Now, I'm sitting on the edge alone, watching the sunrise, alone. Recently my mom's been really sick, to the point that we can barely spend time together.

It hurts, I suppose, me and my mother have always been close, so naturally being away from her even for a few weeks, is eating me up from the inside out. My father and I never had a chance to get close, as he's been away doing stuff kings do.

As I'm sitting here alone, procrastinating my duties, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I smiled when I looked up and saw it was my father. "We need to get going soon, shall we go see your mother before we set off?" He asked with a grin on his face. I smiled back and nodded as I stood up  groggily, wincing at the sharp pain that shot up my leg.

My father went to put his arm around me  "are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" He asked, obviously concerned." I'm fine father, my leg fell asleep" I lied. But I didn't want him to waste time worrying about me when my mother's so weak.

He nodded slightly and started walking towards the palace. The first step I took, I stumbled. Luckily my father was in front of me enough to where I was out of his field of vision and didn't notice.

I don't know what's been going on with my leg, I just know it hurts, bad. Recently my nose has been bleeding a lot, I fall asleep out of nowhere, and I feel sick. I've been begging Mr. Dascălu, the royal advisor, to not tell either of my parents. I wasn't worried about hiding it from my sisters, they're both only 1.

I walked with a slight limp pretty much the whole way to my parents room. As we got to the door my father put his hand on my shoulder and opened the door. I smiled as soon as I saw my mother's soft smile.

She was beautiful. Pretty long, curly, Auburn hair. Light green eyes, a skinny figure, and recently very pale skin, but it used to be tannish. She had freckles lightly sprinkled all over her arms and face, a button nose that went along perfectly with her dusting of  freckles. She was a very soft spoken person, her voice could calm down anyone I know. She had a thick Romanian accent with some slight Irish mixed in, she's lived in Aston since she was about my age, so the accent grew on her. But she was originally from Ireland.

My father on the other hand, messy burgundy hair, dark and vibrant emerald eyes. He can be classified as a heavy built guy, but it's all muscle. Tan skin like me, but slightly darker. An easily distinctive Romanian nose. This guy has a jolly projective voice, I'm pretty sure chuckling is his best hobby. His accent was thick Romanian as well.
He was born and raised here, seeing as he was King.

He handled being king very well, considering the way he got thrown into it as soon as he turned 16. Marius, my personal guard, always told me it was because we had Dascălu to pretty much take control. But I didn't believe that, I know my father can handle it properly himself.