Chapter IV

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William, like any other person, has a hot and cold relationship with his father. Although he looks up to him, and knows that he is, simply put, a rather brilliant man, he is also very tormenting and usually the cause of William's biggest headaches. As soon as Sir Hartley rapped on his suite's golden doors, he knew it was because his father had summoned him. Groaning in dismay, William turns away from the speech he was preparing for the Annual Banquet in a few weeks' time, and dwindles to the door, digging his heels in to prolong the time he has before he has to rush to his great father.

"Morning William, how're you?" Sir Hartley addresses him once he pushes the door open, with a cheeky grin on his face.

Sir Keegan Hartley has been William's closest friend and advisor for the past five years. They met under rather... unfortunate circumstances, but William made sure Keegan was cared for and brought him into his world for protection. Ever since then they just seemed to click, and got on as if they had known each other all their lives. Keegan was a calming voice of reason to William, often helping him through whatever disputes aroused in his life. He was certainly a very loyal friend, knowing things about William he had never uttered to another soul.

"Well I was ok, but I'm guessing my father wants me." William sighed, knowing exactly what he wanted to talk about.

"Yes, your maid Marcy told me to tell you he's in the throne room." Sir Hartley tells him apologetically.

"Well, that's never good." William chuckles humourlessly, rubbing his temples in dismay.

"Do you think it's about-?"

"Yep." William cuts in. "We've already argued about it six times this week, how many more times does he need to hear me say no?"

"I'm not sure Sir. Best of luck that this is the last."

"Thank you Keegan. I will talk to you about it later." William sighs as he nods, letting Keegan walk on.

William buries his hands in his black straight-leg trousers' pockets, and trudges along to his father with a stormy frown painted on his supple lips. The darkened corridor casted an eerie glow upon his pale skin, making him look like the monster it was in his nature to be. Two guards, steadfast and incredibly loyal to the King stood outside the throne room, their expression emotionless, with gleaming swords attached to their belts. For the King they would give their lives unquestionably. Without knocking William strolls in past the guards and pushes the heavy golden doors open, entering the sacred room. The throne room is in the shape of a vast oval, with thick plush red curtains hanging from the ceiling, and several golden chandeliers with lit candles, which twinkle as they hang from the ceiling. The room doubles as a meeting room for official business of state, with a magnificent dark cherry-coloured table that sits in the centre, smooth to the touch with the luxurious quality of well-waxed wood. Upon a Platform of golden carpet sits three thrones, one for the King, the Queen and first born. The King's throne is situated slightly in front of the others, and is carved from a fine oak, crested with several jewels and decorative metals forming an elegant coat of arms; the mark of the Demelo Coven.

"William!" Benedetto exclaims as his first-born enters the room in a fluster.

"Father."

"Have you thought about what I want?" Benedetto asks from his throne, his arms crossed in a state of dominating power.

"Yes and my answer is still no." William grits out, his jaw ticking under pressure.

"William, why won't you listen? If you want to become King, you need to have a Queen ruling beside you!" Benedetto yells, aggravated with his obstinate son.

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