The Kings Personal Joker (boyxboy)

Chapter Thirty One

I sat down on the well trimmed grass and looked out ahead of me. The view was disappointing albeit pretty. The land seemed to stretch on much farther than I had anticipated and I could only barely see the tops of houses from here but nothing of the settlements of outside the walls of the kingdom.

Pretty green hills flush with daisies and dandelions and the occasional cluster of poppies. The sun reflected on the field and as the wind rushed through the whole landscaped turned into a sea of moving green waves.

I definitely didn't mind it.

From inside my clothes I pulled my flute.

I stared at it for some time before resolving to play. I wanted to play for myself but Ophelos only happened to be there, around me, listening. This was what I told myself. It was also what I knew I would tell the King if I was expected to defend myself in the future.

I positioned the flute to my lips and blew a soft tune, it sounded a little rusty, I would have to clean it when I got back... but other than that the sound was soft and clean and acceptable.

So I started playing. A soft low tune that was partly happy and partly... lonely, perhaps. It continued, sweet and sombre, then fast, then slow. In my head I was thinking of lyrics, out of simple habit. It had been a while I had only played a tune and not sung a song to go with it.

As the tune continued I brought it to a slow stop and lowered the flute and continued the music in song.

"O' truly, truly, the night is dark,
The night is dark when he appears,
I close my eyes and in my heart,
That king of kings inspires fear.

I wait on autumns red leaf rain,
So see the rivers fill with trout.
I pray that I will see it again,
And beg I be free to roam about."

I rose the flute back to my lips and started playing once again, a slower tune, a softer tune. Eventually, this too I brought to a halt.

"So what on heavenly earth inspires,
My heart to sing when eyes return gaze.
I am drawn towards those fires,
Do I question at all what is caught in the blaze?

Brief, the respite from such thought,
Solemn, my prospects for pretty autumn.
When frost begins will I be brought,
Above or below to see it blossom?"

I interrupted myself with the flute again. I felt some semblance of relief in my music, I was beginning to feel better. My anxiety bleeding away. I could feel Ophelos's presence near by me and I could not lie, I appreciated the audience. It felt like I was ranting to someone, getting something off my chest without worrying about also getting my head off my shoulders.

Would he do that to me? Why was it so hard to imagine the man that had only days prior whipped me into submission chopping my head off. It should make sense to me. I should fear him and not the punishment. I should become aware of what he is capable of.

So why did the punishment almost do the exact opposite. I was warier, yes, but something in me had recognised some kind of limit to the pain he could inflict on me. Although in reality this was not true it felt true inside my heart.

I could see those dark calculating eyes of his observing me in my head. I couldn't get his face out of my mind.

I closed my eyes and it did not help.

I took a breath, considered the flute and decided otherwise.

"What can such figure brook to hear?
If whip less stiff, if blade less sharp,
I would explain my purpose here.
Yet breath it not, be still my heart.