Blood of Kings ✔️

F I V E

Aleksander threw water on his face. It seeped into his hair and drizzled down onto his neck. As his eyes fell, he noticed a couple marks speckling the nape of it. They were red, but some were bruised with a pink and purplish hue. He put on a shirt, not bothering to wake the sleeping, tawny-haired man, and left out the room. 

The moment he walked out down the hall and into the corridor, Aleksander felt a hand grab his shoulder. A laugh soon followed causing his eyes to narrow. Dark and graveled, he knew the voice belonged to Reginul. 

"I had come to wake you and found that you were not in your room." 

He paused.

"Some king had warmed your sheets." 

Aleksander looked at him but did not utter a word.

"I wonder why he had been so willing even after knowing of all this?" 

Reginul ran his fingers through his beard before scratching his head. Aleksander knew he already had had the answer to that question. Still, he kept his lips pursed and continued walking on.

"Oh. You hadn't told him?"

He entered the main room and saw some of his people already beginning preparations for the night. His eyes were starting to waver now. They had such high hopes of restoring things as they were. For years, they had trained for this day. Reginul stepped in front of him causing him to halt.

"Your Grace, My Lordship, I beseech you to stop this meandering of yours. You have a task at hand and it should not be disrupted by a childhood sweetheart!"

Aleksander saw as the men's attention began to focus on them.  

"You said you wanted things as they were, but, Reginul, you cannot turn back the hands of time. However, I do want what is best for my people. He will guarantee it."

"Your Grace," he bowed to the floor. His forehead pressed against his leg as he wept. "My Grace, I beseech you!" 

"When night falls, all will go as planned. However, I am not the one who will be sitting on the throne," Aleksander carried on, ignoring his pleas. "We do not want to rebuild a new kingdom on a foundation of blood and lies. Just like this one, it will become broken and unalive."

He heard them break out into a ruckus. Yelling soon came next causing him to take a hand through his hair. 

"It is as he says it is. The Artisian king and I had been childhood friends since the age of four. I do care for him as much as I do not want to. Yet, still, I am not doing this for him. It is for peace. Peace of mind. Peace of heart."

"Poppycock!" Reginul shouted which threw the men into chaos. 

"I am your king! And you will listen to me on pain of death! Do you all understand me?" 

The room settled at once.

"Yes, Your Grace." Voices broke out in multitude before silence loomed over the room.

"Be ready to leave. All must go according to plan." 

As the day crept into evening, Aleksander and his men pressed onward into the Golden City. There was no truth to its name. It was dark and no sun shined. You could feel the heat, but could not see the sun. 

Only when Autumn came, when the trees surrounding the city changed from green to gold, was it bright and beautiful. Some changed to a crimson color, others brown. Those, in particular, reminded him much of Rowan. He had never once thought to forget him. 

He looked around for Rowan and soon found him close by, his green eyes trained on the city laying before him. He did not bother to address what had happened between them. Those were words best laid silent and still for another day. Despite such words, his heartbeat became erratic around him and he could not help the way his eyes would linger onto him.

"Aleksei."

Again, he felt his heart beat out of his chest at the sound of his short name coming from him. He had been the one to give it to him. 

"What is it?"

Rowan looked around. Some of his men were lagging behind to catch them exchanging words. Others slowed so they could listen. They were not his soldiers and Aleksander knew he felt discomforted by it. 

"To the under passage and through that door. We will rest before nightfall since the heat has exhausted most of our energy. The others are already waiting for us to arrive." 

Aleksander made sure to split them into small groups dressed as peasants coming from the lands on fire. Too much of them would seem all too suspicious. He had planned this out for years. 

As they passed them by, Aleksander walked closer to Rowan filling in the distance he so much wanted to create. He saw as Rowan tipped his head a little forward, so he could look into his eyes. It was much the same as when they were but small children. 

"Tell me what you have in mind? How did you formulate a plan so quickly?"

"Later, Rowan." 

"You must tell me now," Rowan insisted. 

He pressed a hand to Rowan's cheek causing him to sigh out. 

"Sleep for now. I will tell you come morning." 

He closed his eyes and bit down on his lip before nodding. 

He was anxious. Why add more to his restless mind? Aleksander thought. Such details as those, he did not want him to know. No, he would let him sleep. He had promised him the world and he would gladly give it.

Once night fell, Aleksander unwrapped his arms from around him and rose from the bed they shared. He was quick to put on a shirt and head out the room where the others were waiting. As he reached the main room he saw as everyone was dressed in all black. Some had their faces splotched with mud and grime. Others wore something to cover the half of their faces.

"Your Grace," a choir of voices sang. 

"Today," Aleksander smiled. "Is the day we kill a king." 

"I know you all have heard the rumors. How terrible and menacing the man who sits on the throne is. How wretched and wicked he is." He looked around some more before continuing. "Still, he is human. No monster, no spawn of the devil. All he is, is but a conqueror from another land." 

He took a dagger off from a table.

"So do not be intimidated. Do not be fearful. We have trained for years for this very moment." Soon, he slid it down the palm of his hand. He let the blood flow onto the blade for all to see.

"And even kings bleed red."