Prolouge
As I sit and ponder through the complexities of the happenings, I listen for the bell . . . the sorrowful tone that brings me sweet, bitter memories that fulfilmy heart and existence. Oh, how the scornfuldelight of a fault that is mine, of the current predecessor, who’s hourglass has but a few drops of sand left. I decided to go through my thoughts on this cold brutal night.
Chapter 1
Oh, who would ever want to be king? Who would dare hark such a foul tone into the toxicity that exists within. Well, it must obviously be the one who knows. I have been of witness, first hand, to discover what exists within the castle’s walls. I was sworn in, for the bishop had fooled the commoners of my status. Oh how propaganda leaves the simple minded more just for your cause than yourself. I took upon the grace of King after the last King’s death. He had no children of his own and no rightful heir. I was swooped into a very complex situation at the time. The empire was weakening, buildings were beginningto crumble, and famine was increasingly popular. It was my goal, as that of the bishop, to do everything that the people asked, for I was a man of the people, of the poor. My father had not a penny to spare, so education was key. I studied for, well, my whole childhood it seems, but at this time of my past, it seemed worth while. I soon discovered that the freedom of the King, was nothing more than a title. There were no perks, especially when the bishop who swore you in has everything against you.
