King for a Day ~JeanMarco

King for a Day

Please won't you push me for the last time, and scream until there's nothing left.

I sat on the edge of my large bed, staring out of the door of my balcony that I had to look over the capital of the city. My hands were clammy and shaky as I tried to convince myself that my parents didn't make a mistake in letting me become king at such a young age. Of course I wasn't that young. I was sixteen, I was technically matured enough to be able to take this on. But I wasn't really, I was under the impression that I wouldn't have to worry about this until I found a girl -or boy- to marry. However just like everything else in my life so far, I was wrong.

Sure I couldn't do anything about my father getting sick, but he wasn't dead. He wasn't deathly ill, just a small cold that so happened to bind him to the bed for a very long time. I groaned quietly as I put my head in my hands. I knew I was overreacting about this, most people my age would be overjoyed to have their parents kick the bucket early just so they could take over the family business; but I have the whole fucking country in my hands.

What if I pissed someone from another country off? What if I started a war? What if I had to go to war? Oh my god what if I lost us our land? What if I-

Knock, knock, knock.

The soft, familiar knocks pulled me out of my thoughts and I didn't even say anything before the door cracked open and a much to familiar head of dark brown hair was seen. He bowed before entering all the way and shutting the door.

"Your highness, you should be getting ready for your coronation." He spoke softly and I smiled fondly at the sound, though I'd told him time and time again that he didn't have to address me that way. He walked to my wardrobe and opened the two double doors, pulling out what I was supposed to wear for the ceremony.

"Are you still going to call me that when I'm King?" I asked with a small smile. He chuckled, which made my heart flutter, and shook his head.

"No, I'll call you 'your majesty'. There's a difference." He stated, making me roll my eyes. "Off with your sleep clothes." He commanded gently. I shook my head stubbornly. "Please?" He pleaded but I didn't budge. I wasn't nervous with him, I just liked giving him a hard time. "Jean." He groaned out and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks but not as much as his.

"Oh?" I stated with a smirk, trying to ignore the fact that my heart was racing like some of our fastest horses trying to win a race. His face was flushed which made his freckles jump out at you.

"I-I am so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Hey, Marco, it's okay. I told you to call me by my first name anyway. I don't want to have to make you." I said lowly as I played with the hem of his jacket and enjoyed how he blushed even deeper. He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes before shaking his head and composing himself.

"We still need to get you dressed. Now strip before I make you." He said playfully before walking over to where my favorite undershirt was. You see, Marco wasn't just my personal butler. He was my best friend. Ever since my parents decided that it would be better for me to have someone around my age come in and keep me company rather than the old ladies we had as maids, I'd been attached to his side. Sure it could've been seen as a nuisance by him but he never said anything about it.

Of course why would he? He probably got paid tons to put up with me. That was one of the things that always depressed me, because I knew that he didn't stick around willingly; he did it for the money. That's like one of those prostitutes; they didn't have sex because they liked you, they did it for the money. However even with those thoughts it still didn't keep me from having deep feelings for him. Somehow I feel as if it made my feelings stronger for him, as crazy as that sounds. Was I ashamed of this? Fuck no. Of course most people would be like 'well if you aren't ashamed, then fucking tell him!' Well let me explain.