All Hail The King

by Mac Briley

I snuck through the hall, expertly avoiding guards in the familiar castle. I was so close to the throne room. My uncle had made his final mistake: assuming I was dead. My sword hung at my side, almost aching for blood.

"You will have it soon enough," I whispered to it. I hid behind a large curtain and waited for the two approaching guards to pass. The clanking of their armor faded and I knew I had approximately 45 seconds before the next passed.

I strolled down the hall and for a moment I felt almost like normal, it felt like before the war my dear uncle started that tore our country in half.

Almost like Mother was alive and baking in the kitchens and Thalia and I were, while giggling like the children we were, going to see Father while we worked to show him our new dresses for my coming of age ball that I never got to have... almost felt like that. That thought, my heavy sword, and braided hair brought me back to reality.

Braids were taught to me by the vikings when I trained with them over the past 10 years.

"No self respecting princess would ever have their hair in braids, it just isn't done." Mother used to say.

But the vikings, they encouraged it, in fact.

"'s better fo' fightin'." Brynhild had told me while showing me how to do the knots.

"Keeps the guts and bits outta yer hair." Astrid chimed in.

Their fighting style was bloody. They feared nothing and I loved it. I planned to use it well and often.

I took pause before the great doors to the throne room.

"Deep breath," I told myself aloud. This was a crucial part of fighting, being calm and then becoming angry just before a kill.

"Remember what he did. Mother, Father, Thalia-" my voice broke, "-and you. He tried to kill you."

I steadied my hands on the doors, and then swung them open wide so they clanked against the walls dramatically. I quickly strode down the aisle, past the court, directly to the throne.

"Hello Uncle," I called to the portly man on the throne I no longer recognized as family.

"Did you miss me?"

"How- what- they told me you were dead," the coward stammered.

"Well, they were wrong." And with one swipe of my blade his head rolled down the steps and his body collapsed at my feet. I took the crown from his skull, placed it on my head and lounged on the throne, my bloody sword in hand.

My aunt knelt next to his severed head in disgust. I loved my aunt and, while I was glad Uncle didn't murder her, I truly hoped I didn't have to kill her. She simply turned and returned to her seat in the court. I thought I saw a glimmer of a smile on her mouth.

"I am the princess," I announced to the high court, "the rightful heir to the throne."

"All hail the Queen!" someone yelled.

"No," I bellowed, "I have made myself your king, for I need no man."

They were quiet for a moment, hesitating. Just before my aunt stood from the crowd, smiling wider and brighter than I had ever seen her. Almost as if her whole face were smiling along with her mouth.

"All hail the King!" She called.

"ALL HAIL THE KING!" the rest of the court thundered back. I got comfortable on my throne.

I was not leaving for a long, long while.