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-Andrew's POV-

In the moments after I had kissed Brandon, I felt something. My mind was clueless as to what it was, but without a doubt, some sort of emotion had caught me off guard. The kiss was yesterday, but the feeling of his lips on mine was still there. My feelings for Brandon were growing by the hour.

I sat on my throne, head propped up and eyes closed. I was happy that spring was upon us. The castle was filled with cool air, the scent of the garden was somehow filling the room. My eyes fluttered open. The first thing I saw was Brandon's eyes staring into mine. I faked a cry of panic, and he erupted with laughter. Luckily, we were the only ones in the room.

Brandon moved back, his smile still wide. "I thought I told you to dust around the furnace," I said, letting out chuckles between words. I saw Brandon furrow his eyebrows, looking rather confused. "Oh," he commented, "well, I thought after yesterday, that maybe you w-"

I interrupted him. "Nothing is changing now," I told him, raising a finger. "Give it time, I promise." Brandon then slouched back, the confusing expression wiped from his face. "Alright," he said back. I watched as he skipped to the back room, his hair bouncing up with every step. He was slowly growing it out, the ends were currently brushing against the top of his ears.

On an even more positive note, my head guards, Ray and Isaac, had survived their illnesses and were fully recovered. They were one of few who lived. I was grateful for that.

The only thing that bothered me was that it had been months since Charlotte was killed, but the assassin hadn't been captured yet. The hatred I had for that man was beyond words. There had been sightings of him all over town, but before a guard was alerted, he was disappeared. The man was smarter than I cared to admit.

I stood up from my throne, my back popping. I let out a groan of satisfaction, then made my way to the front doors. The two guards standing there were fairly new to the system, but were working quite well. Upon my steps forward, the doors were pried open, and small portions of sunlight spilled into the castle. "Thank you," I mustered out, cringing at my own words. I could feel it. I was becoming kind.

No sooner did the doors open, that I saw Bennett running up the castle steps. A tiny smirk climbed onto my face, before I forced it to disappear. "Bennett, what have you brought?" I questioned him. He, too, was growing his hair out. It appeared as if he added even more bleach to it. "Those great spices from Cherrydale, you heard of 'em?" He said, holding out a small leather pouch. As he approached me, I took the pouch.

My fingers dug inside the bag, pulling the drawstrings open with the utmost care. Inside were small vials of finely harvested spices, that Laine did not have the soil to grow. "Fantastic," I told him, roughly patting Bennett's shoulder. He smiled brightly, and I noticed that despite his front teeth being perfectly white, the ones in the back were ridden with holes.

I looked past the castle walls for a moment, seeing the gate was open, probably for Bennett. Townspeople were glaring outside the gates, trying to get a decent view of the castle. I saw a small boy kneeling in attempt to see me, and I waved at him. With a smile, he waved back. I never waved to people. Brandon was making me into a kinder person.

I looked up from the boy, to see a cloaked figure standing behind him. I squinted in attempt to observe his facial features. Just as I was about to recognize the man, he raised a crossbow, which was been perfectly concealed inside his cloak. All I could do was let out a quick cry of panic. I gripped Bennett's shoulder and pulled him with me as I dropped to the ground, a silver arrow gliding right above my head.

The scene erupted with madness. People were screaming, some trying to stop the assassin. I knew who it was, the same person who murdered Charlotte. A group of guards began dashing madly towards the crowd outside the gates. I watched in ecstasy as the assailant attempted to break out of the crowd, but was held back. He raised his crossbow, but a guard fired one of his own. An arrow punctured the man's hand, causing him to drop the weapon.

Within seconds, the guards had completely restrained the assassin, who was flailing madly in their grasp. Without a weapon, what threat did he pose?

I scrambled onto my feet, Bennett doing the same. "Leave the door open," I commanded the guards. They did as I said, as I ran to my throne. Bennett followed me, standing next to me as I sat down. I wanted to look as menacing as possible when that criminal was brought to me.

It must have been under a minute. A screaming, sweating, erratic man was forced to his knees in front of me, four guards holding him down. All the assassin spoke were swears.

He was finally here.

I would finally get the satisfaction of killing David Escamilla.

The guards forced him to close his jaw and look up at me, but all his eyes told me was that he was set on killing me. He'd never receive that pleasure. "David," I spoke, "we know you killed Charlotte." He was silent for a moment, before speaking up.

"I thought we all knew that," David growled, baring his teeth. I could feel myself twitch. Don't let him intimidate you, I told myself. I was better than he was.

"And you admit to attempting to kill me?" I asked him, moving to the edge of my seat. Part of this seemed too easy. Perhaps he had been on a suicide mission. "Who wouldn't? In a couple of years, people will praise me as the first man that tried to kill the tyrant of a king," he replied.

Tyrant? I wasn't even close.

"That's a count of murder of a royal, and attempted murder of a royal," I sneered. My fists clenched the arms of my throne. My teeth were bared, the pressure on them made me feel as if they were about to break. "I'll allow you to write to any family you have tonight, but tomorrow," I said to him, "I'm finally having you hung."

I snapped my fingers, and in an instant, David was being dragged away. "I didn't do anything wrong!" He shouted at me. "You're a tyrant, Andrew!"

I didn't think of myself as a tyrant. In fact, I thought that I was getting softer. Did anyone else see that? Does anybody care? I convinced myself no one noticed my change, not even people who had spent their entire lives under my control.

I tried desperately to shake the thoughts from my mind, but as they left me, I was stuck with just one.

Who was I becoming?

(Aight, stuff is just going to go down hill from here. Within the next few chapters there'll be some love, drama, and quite possibly a few deaths. Also, if you want, let me know your preferred method of medieval execution so some deaths aren't that bad. Sorry y'all.)

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