Prologue

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-Andrew's POV-

I held the knife in my hand, marvelling at its beauty. The glossy ivory color of its handle, the perfect silver of the blade, and my reflection shown perfectly on the knife.

I was going to do it.

I was done with him pushing me around. I wasn't going to be a servant anymore. I was tired of having him tell me just what to do, and then punishing me with torture whenever I didn't comply.

I wanted to be in control now. My own greed and desire for power drove my emotions, and my lust to have his blood dripping from my hands.

Instead of me being the slave, I craved to be the boss. I would be the one in charge, and I would be the one beating the ones that stepped out of line.

I made my way into the dining hall, and quickly slid between the glass cabinet and the wall. "S-sir! Come quick!" I yelled, as if I were in a state of panic.

I could hear his footsteps coming closer. "What is it?" He snapped. I gripped the knife with both hands, making sure it wouldn't slip.

The footsteps entered the room, then stopped. I had hidden well, and he couldn't see me. "Andrew?" He called, looking around the room. He sounded concerned, but I knew he wasn't. He was cold and merciless, almost inhuman.

His eyes landed on me, and I took that as my cue. Before he could scream, I lunged at him, stabbing him directly in the chest. I loved the feeling, and stabbed him again. Soon, I couldn't get over the feeling, and I lost track of how many times I'd stabbed him.

Tears began falling from my eyes, as I stabbed him over and over.

"Andrew!" A voice called. I snapped out of the manicial trance I was in, and looked up to see Elijah, standing over me. The tears kept coming. "Andrew, he's dead," Elijah said to me. I looked down, observing the brutal way I had murdered him.

In Laine, whomever could claim the crown of the dead king, was the new ruler of the kingdom.

I knew what Elijah was about to do. I saw his shaky hand slowly reach for the crown. Before he could even near it, I grabbed at it, taking it in my hands. Without even thinking, I forced the crown onto my head. It fit perfectly, as if it were meant for me.

I jumped up, knocking Elijah down. I began running for the throne room, knowing that's where everyone gathered in the evening. I emerged into the room, all eyes falling on me.

No one questioned it. It was perfectly normal to have one king in the morning, but another by night. I was the king down, and nobody dared to challenge me about it.

Suddenly, Elijah ran into the room, shaking and trying to figure out what happened. "You really did it, Andrew" he said. His eyes widened, and he came towards me.

"King Andrew," I corrected him, showing no emotion in my face. Elijah laughed, seeming to take it as a joke. "Really? C'mon, I thought we were friends," he said. I only laughed in return. He had no idea.

"We were never friends," I told Elijah, seeing the pain in his eyes. "We were just colleagues. But, I'm the king now. If you have a problem, just tell me."

"Of course I have a problem!" Elijah snapped, clenching his fists. "I was the one who helped you plan this, and I'm the one who saved your life! You're trying to tell me we aren't friends?"

I laughed even louder. "Don't you see? You pose a threat to me now, and I can't trust you anymore. I need to make sure you won't ever replace me."

All I had to do was snap my fingers, and guards surrounded Elijah. "A-andrew, w-what are you doing?" He cried out, just as the guards began to grab him. "I'm doing what needs to be done to ensure you never try to steal my crown," I said.

"Guards, cut off his hands."

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