The Betrayal

The king will die before the sun rises.

The words haunted him, uttered in privacy and in confidence.

The sun resided under the grassy hills, remaining there for another hour, nestled away without concern of the threat upon a singular man within a kingdom. The world was silent as a singular figure walked down the darkened corridor, each step making his stomach drop and fear enveloped his every step. 

He didn’t want to believe the words he was told nearly hours before. It was outlandish.

Right?

It sounds crazy. It was crazy. There was no threat to the king’s life before this so hearing something such as this is outlandish. Then why was he growing more and more nervous as he walked towards the king’s quarters?

The king is fine. He would be slumbering in his chambers without a care in the world, just as he had left him hours before. No blood, no murder, and no death.

The king will die before the sun rises. 

“You must believe me,” the hooded figure huffed as he bent over, his hands on his knees as his breathing was labored. The guard didn’t know his name, he wasn’t allowed to for the sake of both of their safety. The nature of the hooded figure’s job was dealt in secrecy, so it only made sense that he remained secretive in his protection of the king. 

“Slow down and take it easy. What do you mean the king will die before the sun rises?”

Hood, the guard adequately nicknamed him, shook his head aggressively, “there is no time to explain, you mustn’t waste any more time.”

He swallowed thickly, his hand on his sheathed sword by his hip, his footsteps now echoing louder in the corridor as he pushed on faster than before. Nervousness chewed at him, anxious thoughts piling in his head as his heart pounded in his chest.

“How do you know this?” This wasn’t the first time he had come to him with sensitive information, that was the nature of their relationship, but never something as bold as the death of the king.

“Now isn’t the time for questions! If you wish to keep a king to protect, I highly suggest you go to his quarters immediately.”

The guard turned a corner, wide, golden doors laid at the end of the hallway, his end goal in sight as another wave of tension washed over him. He would have his answer, all he needed to do was make it to the end of the hallway and open the door.

The hand on his sword gripped the hilt tighter, his expression hard as he pushed forward with renewed vigor. The only sounds he could hear were his footsteps as well as his racing heart in his ears, pounding relentlessly with no plan of stopping anytime soon.

Moments later, his hand was wrapped around the golden doorknob, standing in front of the doors as his eyes were locked onto the doorknob. Why was he nervous?

He shook his head, twisting the doorknob and pushed through the heavy door with a heavy heart.

The room was dark, the only light spilled from the wide windows across the room and framed a lone figure laying on the bed. His eyes went wide, immediately rushing towards the bed and threw the sheets off to finally receive his answer. 

The king will die before the sun rises.

Those words rang in his head as the guard stared at the blood-stained sheets below him, the king he was sworn to protect laid before him with his throat slit from side to side. His eyes went wide, his hand going to his mouth as he felt a sickly liquid touch his skin as he slowly retracted his hand from his face, crimson staining his hand from the sheets.

The entirety of the bed was stained red, blood continually pouring from the king’s neck as he froze, unable to move a muscle as he stared at the king. The king was dead.

In this state of grief and mourning, he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching from behind him, growing louder and louder until they were right behind him. Multiple footsteps were out the door, but he couldn’t hear them clearly over the sound of his loudly pounding heart. His heart thumped deafeningly in his ears, his vision starting to blur ever so slightly as his eyes glossed over.

How could this happen? He was too late, too, too late.

His attention was fully drawn back to reality and out of his mind once the sound of a sword unsheathing rang out in the still, night air and the tiniest prick of the tip of a sword was felt on his back.

His eyes widened as he realized how this looked. How bad it looked for him.

The last words before the guards restrained and arrested him for the murder of his own king were: “How could you?”

Both the king and he were betrayed.