Chapter One: The Death of the King

The days grew blacker. Seven hours and fifty-five minutes of blustery daylight, at last count. The aging man stared intensely at the thick blizzard that whipped passed the window blocking the view of the kingdom landscape from his gilded tower atop the hill at the edge of town. The weather was poor timing, but what could be done about it? He chuckled to himself about marching through the storm in his plush robe, and up the pearly stairs to heaven to negotiate with the Maker of Weather, personally. Ridiculous. He snorted to himself, dislodging something within his esophagus. He spat the decaying clump into the washbasin, just as the beautiful housekeeper entered his chamber. She stuttered an apology, but he stopped her with a gesture from one hand and wiped his chin with the other. 

"Ah, good morning!" He said, turning to face the housekeeper, "Never get old, my dear, it is tremendously sad. I apologize, I should have been out of here already. These absurd daylight hours... well, I will let you get to your work." 

The girl looked sideways before responding. She curtsied and cast her eyes downward, "Yes, um, your grace."

The old man smiled and nudged her chin with the broad-edge of his finger, "No need for those formalities, sweetheart," he said, "at least not for you." He winked, encouragingly, and exited into the hallway- still wearing his plush robe and slippers. Passing other servants in the hall, he nodded and greeted "Good morning", especially the young, pretty ones. Finding the chambers he was looking for, he burst through the ornate doors with another enthusiastic greeting for his pride and joy. 

"Good morning, My Queen!"

The fur blankets rustled slightly, but there were no other signs of life until he threw open the heavy window coverings. It did not do much to let in the light, as there was scarcely any light to be let in, but the rings rattled violently against the metal curtain rods, and a muffled protest came from beneath the blankets. 

"David! I have not even unbraided my hair, yet. I am still sleeping, what are you doing?" 

"I hope you are ready for today, Lin." He replied, still staring at the blackened window.  "I need you on-point today. Today they will all see..." He trailed off. Adelind murmured again and rolled another pillow under her shoulder. 

David continued, "I hear what they say, they talk about the changes the 'King' (he made quotation marks with his fingers) has made. Today, though, today the entire kingdom will see what I mean when I say, I mean..." he trailed off again as Adalind flung her legs over the side of the bed, wrapping one of the heavy blankets around her shoulders. She was a good deal younger than he, and his third wife. It was one of the benefits of wealth and position to never grow old without a beautiful wife. Yawning, she told him what he wanted to hear, and he jumped into bed next to her, pulling her under the covers, as if he were a much younger man. Feeling virile, and gilded for battle, he gathered his trusted knights at the great stone gates, and set march into the center of town. 

For the second time this morning, David burst through the doors of his intended target. Or rather, his two foremost knights burst through, and David, sword drawn, advanced to the throat of his target, still beautifully knotted in the arms of love. Ripping their intertwined hands apart, he threw his victim to his knees by the side of the bed. 

"My King!" Cried the Queen, giving little thought to her own modesty as she rushed to be by her husband's side. 

"Ah! I wouldn't, my lady," cautioned David, shaking a finger at her. "If you are lucky, you could be my new liaison to the palace, as soon as your husband is dead and I rule in wealth and title, alike." David sneered and one of the knights restrained her by her elbows. Palace guards rushed in to the rescue of the King and Queen, but were quickly cut down by David's knights. 

"It will be alright, Belle. I will never let anything happen to you." the King assured his wife, disregarding David's blade pressing against his throat. "What is this about, Lord David?"

"About?" David snorted again, pressing the sword hard enough to draw blood from the top layers of skin. "You should know what this is about. This is my kingdom now!" Spit flung from his engorged neck as he screamed, red-faced, to the entire room. 

"Belle," the King's voice was fluttered, but gentle, "I need you to remember; one man may be lost today, but one man is not..." but the King's final words were cut short by steel. Queen Belle screamed and fell to her knees, sobbing. The beautiful kingdom she had built with her gallant husband had fallen into the hands of torment.