Rosebriar

Chapter One: Fit To Be King

        My mother was an impeccable queen.

        The ceremony seemed to drag on for an eternity; the crowd cheered and seemed pleased after I was appointed. Yet my Father had a certain distaste about everything that was surrounding him.

        My father took a sip from his chalice and immediately became pale and the life seemed to leave his eyes. Tears streamed down his face as he called for help in a distraught voice and with a swift movement his head fell and drooped to one side before anyone could help him. Screams filled the ballroom beginning with my mother and trailing throughout the crowd. I rushed toward him as quickly as I could.

        Everything became a blur as tears stung my eyes and all the sound faded away.

        He was gone.

        I looked around at all the terrified citizens of Rosebriar, "Sir, what do we do?" My father’s keeper asked me. "I- uh..." Yet again I was dumbfounded. "Quiet!" I commanded, and within seconds the whole ballroom had fallen into a hushed sound. "Due to the circumstances, my mother and I ask that you all leave and go home to your families." My voice was deafening in the agonizing silence.

        No one had turned to leave before the sea of people began to kneel before me. They held their hand over their hearts and kept their head down. It was a sign of respect and grievance.

        "Long live the king."

        I returned the phrase with great admiration for their love of my father. I wrapped my arms tightly around my sobbing mother, "It wasn’t supposed to be this way." She cried soft enough that only I heard.

        It felt like years had passed in the few days following the death of the king. The whole kingdom had adorned themselves in black and windows were opened immediately to ease the passing of his soul. The bell-ringer announced my father’s death in the square and our castle door was painted black; the women keepers cleaned and dressed his body before several citizens arrived to wake the body to keep his soul from falling to the devil.

        Throughout the whole kingdom a low hum of hymns coursed through the streets and women waited at the cemetery gates during the funeral.

        It seemed to be gloomier than usual those days.

        "Sir?" A keeper entered my room, "The council has requested your presence." He spoke softly as if to not wake my weary soul. I stayed up late each night with my mother, her heart seemed to be shattered into a million pieces each time the thought crossed her mind. "Alright," I paused, "retrieve my mother as well."

        I took a deep breath before taking my eyes from the window and facing the man who was no longer dressed in black. It was nice to see we were finally coming out of the darkest part of grieving. I hadn’t changed into my black garb, remaining in only cerulean or rose. My father wouldn’t want us moping around in such depressing colors such as black and grey.

        "Derick, there’s something important regarding your coronation." The first councilman spoke loudly. "Sure, sure." I took my seat and ran my fingers through my hair. My coronation was the very last thing on my mind. "In order to become king, you must have a queen." The second spoke much softer. I shook my head with consuming anger, "I am not in love."

        "No sir, but we cannot be without a king; a king cannot be without a queen." The first spoke again, with great force and volume. "Dear, we’ve arranged for you to marry Princess Emma of Leknes." My mother’s voice was soft and sweet, tonight it seemed much less broken than the preceding days.