Short Story: Third in line

I was third in line to the throne when my brother died. He was a great man, loved by all in the country. There was no one in all the land who was more handsome, charismatic, intelligent, or chivalrous than he. A true paragon of the nobility. It was, of course, a possibility that everyone knew could happen, that an attempt on the prince's life may be made. Even still, it came as a great shock to all when he was poisoned. Not his food at dinner, nor the wine he took when conversing with his friends. No, it had been from a small sip of water at his bedside, as he'd woken up parched during the night. The court whispered how it could have happened that the prince was murdered in his own room. It had to have been some one close to him.

My brother had proven to be a great man. A man of virtue and strength, who would lead the country into a new and exciting era. He consorted with the leading artisans and scientists in the land and even abroad. He was a modern man, who would have soon married the princess of Lyona. She, who was the jewel of the country, known for her kindness, who along with my brother, would bring the two kingdoms together after many hundreds of years of strife. The common folk celebrated the impending union with a clamor of glee. When he died It hurt to see them mourn him, weeping in the streets as his funeral casket passed by.

I was second in line to the throne when my second brother died. He had been the reclusive type, choosing a book over the company of people. When my eldest brother had died, he'd wept for a full week. Not because he missed our elder brother but because he feared to rule. He'd lamented how his eldest brother had left him in such a situation, since clearly the choice of his life or death was his to make. He had confided in me how terrified he was of reigning as a king, going to meetings, rubbing shoulders with the nobility, and dancing at balls. My brother preferred to be alone, and hated others company, apart from me, but only because I was his brother. And even then it was more a toleration than joy for him. He wasn't much loved, proving to be in the premature stages of becoming a curmudgeon. His foul temper had failed to endear him with the servants who then went out and spoke much about his attitude to his friends. He was a rare breed of noble, who was both not cut out for nobility, but wouldn't have thrived anywhere else.

The court talked much of the accident; how my brother had died. The way he'd died wasn't much of a surprise. Unlike my eldest brother who partook in tournies, and feats of strength, who was a physically powerful man, my youngest bother wasn't known for his agility. So, it wasn't the fact that he'd broken his neck from a fall that bothered anyone. The court whispered and wondered, why was he in the tree in the first place?

When my father died, I was heir to the throne. I now walk down the carpeted walkway that leads to the throne where I will be blessed by a priest and endowed with kingly powers. I catch the eye of the princess of Lyona who is in attendance. She smiles radiantly back at me. I nod and smile in return. Eventually, I kneel and the priest speaks the words that will make me king of all the land.

Once, they called me the second brother, even when my second brother was alive. I was the child who was always by my eldest brothers side. Sometimes, I'd hear them call me his shadow. I was there when he performed in the jousts and the common folk cheered his name, adulation thick on their lips like sweet honey. I was there when he met the princess of Lyona, and I was struck by her kind disposition. He long brown hair captivated me. I would have done anything for her smile and her laugh, which was like a summer bird. I travelled with them in the carriage as they came back to our kingdom, to present themselves to an adoring crowd. I stood off to the side, received an occasional comment in hushed whisper. "The prince's second brother," They would say. Thought's swirled in my head like a maelstrom. How lucky my brother was. He would have it all, and then what would I be left with?

At first, these thoughts were nothing but a storm, that I couldn't shake loose from my mind. Formless, until they did form, into a plan.

Unlike my eldest brother I didn't participate in tournies, choosing instead to sneak about the castle. It was like a game to me; to see how long I could stalk the halls before being noticed. I wasn't much like my second brother either, but I did enjoy reading. I didn't waste my time with the stories of adventures like he did. Instead, I read of secret things. Things not often talked about, and yet useful. My mother was concerned why I should be taken by such things. I never did tell my mother, though I gave her answers I thought satisfied her. After that I would only read in my favorite spot, away from her eyes, up in my favorite tree in the castle gardens.

I look out at my audience, the nobles and the commoners all shouting my name. The sun shines bright, and an eagle soars as it is released into the heavens. My face feels warm, and my chest feels warmer. I look at a group of children and they exclaim in glee, merely by my glance. They speak of the king; about me. I raise my hand and the crowd yells louder yet.

I peer around the room, aiming to be as noble as I possibly can, but I can't help but feel triumphant. My smile broad like the bow of a ship. To the right I see my subjects, their eyes beaming with praise for me. I look to the left, I see a young girl, her face flush, a smile wide on her face, she is yelling though I can't hear what she says. She waves her hands at me and I wave back. She turns to her mother behind her saying something that I couldn't have possibly made out from where I stood. Even if I stood close the sound of the crowd drowned all.

I look behind me, and I see my mother, her face is not flush and she carries no smile. Instead, she looks back at me gravely. My smile falls, and I frown at her. Thoughts swirl in my head. A maelstrom, of formless words and questions. I turn away from her, my stomach turns itself in a knot, and I feel as if I may be sick. The thoughts are like stormclouds about to burst with rain. Suddenly, the come together, taking shape. A plan forms in my mind, and again the smile returns to my face.