The King's Poison

XV

Henry

I wait in the shadows of my castle, anger saturating my heart as I thought of the circumstances of the night. I watch each man saunters out the vibrant dining hall, swallowing the last of their mead and brews.

Thomas and Cromwell leave first, then another man, and yet still another. I cared for them not, for I only had one man in mind.

That fool!

How dare he touch what was mine? Taunting me for a crime I had not even committed! I didn't kill Anne; it was pressure from the masses and Cromwell. Even when I refused to kill the queen, Cromwell would insist and chide me, reminding me of the pressure from the people and the disapproval of the church.

A few minutes pass before I spot the fiend. He comes out, fighting to walk straight. Two women aided him, kissing his neck as he whispered sweet nothings into their delicate necks.

"Alfred! A word" I cursed, failing to mask my impatience. He smiles once he meets my figure and throws a courteous arm around me. "Henry! We all thought you were off to sleep!" he brags, resting his head against my chest. He was drunk.
Good.
Better for him. It meant fewer shouts and a more manageable struggle.
His death would be brisk.

"Up for a late-night game of sword fighting under the moonlight?"

He laughed, swinging his arms against the two women once more as they helped him finish the rest of his drink. "Henry? Do you see the bosoms of these women? Later" he cursed.

"Are you that scared of losing Alfred?"

He lets out a careless chuckle before shaking his head no. "Frightened? It is not in my vocabulary Henry. You know that friend"

"After 16 years of friendship, it still escapes my mind" I shrugged, turning to leave the outside clearing. Alfred was more prideful than his will permitted him. He would be the first to adopt a challenge, no matter the odds against him.

"I must remind you then Henry? You're on" he hums, patting my chest in jest.

____

We come to the clearing of the open combat field, stripping our shirts in anticipation of the spar.
And we fought. The harsh noises of our swords connecting decorated the noiseless scene of the night. He was surprisingly attentive for some who was once so intoxicated.

"Round 2 Henry!" he curses standing from the ground and wiping his sword clean. We begin again, drawing on to round 3 but before he could start his ascent, I hit him across the skull.

"FUCK HENRY!" he curses, stumbling to the ground. I watch him battle to regain his dignity for I had struck him hard. A wound had opened on his crown.

"I think you blinded me old friend" he chuckled. He stood on bended knee, battling to keep up with the fight but before he could even extend his palm for my aide, the distinct succulent sound of permeated flesh radiated against the silent night.

I made sure to stab him.
Twice and then a fifth time. Six for good measure.
His blood was everywhere and I knew he was dead but I couldn't be too sure until his heart was mute.

The kill was slower than I had anticipated, but I was still content.

"My king! We heard a yell and---" Two guards came running, halting their words as they came near the gore. They bowed once I greeted their gaze.

"Clean this mess up" I mumbled, throwing the soiled sword onto the floor.

"Yes, my king" they nodded. Of course, they obeyed; had no choice but to heed my commands.