.png)
Novel Excerpt by Artemis L
His Majesty, King Alayxis Stowe VII of Contillius, sat alone in his throne room cradling his father’s skull. Sunlight shone through the hole in the ceiling, putting a spotlight on the boy. His tears plunked gently on the stone floor, forming a small puddle at his feet.
Gaining his bearings, Alayxis dragged his arm across his face. He refused to be seen like this. He had to be strong in order to deal with this atrocity his country was facing. He had no time to mourn, he had to get these rebels out of his palace, if not the country. Or the world.
Who did they think they were? he wondered. Going in, killing the king, then acting like they run the place? I’m still the damn king.
He sighed, walking over to put Alayxis Stowe VI’s skull into a drawer built into the throne. He studied the key he always wore around his neck for a moment before locking the skull away unceremoniously.
Alayxis sat down on the throne, shivering from the feeling of cold stone beneath him. He toyed with the crown on his head, not yet used to the weight of it. It felt wrong. He forced himself to stop fidgeting, to just sit still and think. How was he to regain power? Most of the noble houses, including the big five with the exception of Quinntius. They would have been aligned with his rule if that bastard Florian did not convince them otherwise.
“Liam?” Alayxis shouted, his voice echoing throughout the cavernous room.
“Yes, your royal highness?” Liam said quietly, limping into view.
“It is actually your–” Alayxis began before stopping after seeing the state of his loyal advisor.
“Before you ask, I am okay. I did get shot but besides leg functionality, I am perfectly healthy.”
“You should see a doctor,” Alayxis said, turning away from the man. He was not a fan of blood. Heconsidered making Liam wipe up the blood he was tracking, but that would be rude. A servant could do it later.
“What do you require of me?” Liam asked, glancing down to watch the blood drip from his leg. “By the way, I’m very sorry about the blood.”
“It is okay. Is the drafting room unoccupied? I have some questions regarding our numbers.”
“Your Majesty, that part of the palace has been occupied by the Imperator—”
“Then we kill her,” Alayxis said quietly. “And why have we not done that yet?”
Liam gestured at his leg. “I’m sorry. We tried—I did, personally, but she’s good.”
Alayxis sighed, considering his options. Negotiation was still on the table, but he was certain she’d only accept the terms of his death and prompt skull-crushing. He could try to kill her himself, but he had never been good with guns. Alayxis was more than a scholar than anything, but knew to adapt when necessary. He couldn’t kill her with words, as much as he wanted to.
“I’m going in,” he said.
“What?” Liam stared at the boy king, disapproval flickering in his eyes that Axis was all too familiar with. “You are going to get yourself killed.”
Alayxis merely shrugged. “If the Alayxian-Stowe reign ends with me, then so be it.”
“Your Majesty, that is incredibly impulsive. Who’s going to get this country back into shape and cull the Edgians?” Liam asked, growing more concerned, as if he knew what Alayxis was going to say.
“You.”
“I—I’m flattered, but I don’t believe I would make for a good king—”
“Please stop arguing with me. I have made my decision and I would appreciate that you respect it,” the King said curtly, marching down the hallway to the door of the drafting room. He flung the door open to find Imperator Kitscher sitting next to her wife, General Kitscher. Generals Ashyn and Bagel were there as well, and a skull sat in front of another seat. Alayxis suspected that it was the skull of Major Lys, who the Imperator had murdered.
The Imperator stood up and grabbed the gun holstered at her waist. “What the fuck do you want,” she growled.
Alayxis put his hands up, “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said slowly. Not yet. That would come later.
“So what do you want,” she spat.
Axis questioned what he wanted. He had no plan going in, in a way Liam was right, though he would never admit it. He wanted his father back, but that wasn’t an option—
Imperator Kitscher strode forward and pressed her gun to his head.
“What the fuck do you want? Are you feeble-minded? Can you not respond or something?” She asked, shaking him.
“Can we negotiate?” The King finally asked.
“No. Anything else?”
“Can we talk in private?”
She laughed, “So you can try to kill me? Nice try. But sure, I’ll give you the dignity of not screaming in front of everyone.”
That was easy. Too easy. What was she planning?
The King and Imperator walked into a spare room, furnished with nothing but a cobwebbed painting of Contillius’ first king. Axis vaguely remembered it used as a spare bedroom for visiting military officers, though now it was a shell of its former beauty.
“So, how do you want me to kill you?” Kitscher asked.
Alayxis promptly strangled her. Well, he tried. He did get the gun out of her hand before he grabbed her neck, he wasn’t stupid.
She shoved the Boy King off of her neck, knocking him down to the ground. His head hit the hard stone with a thunk and he groaned. While he tried to get back up, Kitscher proceeded to kick him right back down.
“You idiot. What did you think that was going to accomplish?”
Alayxis was silent. For he has a backup plan, something not even a gun could defend against. He waved his arm and severed her head off of her body. With another wave he degloved her head, picking up her skull. He knew her blood had sprayed out, getting on him, but he didn’t care. Not anymore.
The Boy King walked back into the drafting room, covered in blood and holding her skull.
“Who’s next?” He asked, slamming it on the table.
First draft of my prologue, may be too violent to be submitted. Let me know