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  The music faded into an eerie silence right when Omar and Luna walked back in from the outside. Both turned in circles, seeing if all eyes were on them, but no one noticed them. Everyone’s attention shifted to the dais. The grand ballroom hushed. The King stood up from his chair, his figure framed into a mountain of gold from the immaculate golden light.

  In his golden and white regal attire, he paced back and forth on the dais. Amy and Damian were concerned watching their father from their seats with their escorts. He is drunk, not that shock anyone. The King’s face a beat red strawberry. He didn’t laugh, nor did he shout. He swirled his drink forcing it to dance in his goblet.

  “What’s happening…?” Omar and Luna slowly found their table, as he brushed by his sister.

  “Don’t know.” Maeve shrugged unsure what to make of it. “He spit out some of his drink, then started making a scene.”

  The King noticed Luna amongst the crowd. Right at Omar’s side, his eyes winced with anger, that turned to remorse. He snarled out loud, falling bitterly drunk into his chair. The guests murmured silently, as the King poured out his drink beside him.

  A maid hurried over to the side of the dais, preparing a towel to clean up the floor. The King grabbed her hand. She rose in fear, but he held a silent conviction from his hold on her. He shook his head. “It’s all right. Just leave it for now.” He waved her off.

  The crowd looked at the madman of a King. They were unsure what was going on. He peered amongst the many faces he didn’t know, taking a deep breath and letting out a calm wind that blew into the center of the ballroom.

  “My gods.” The King laughed. “Isn’t it amazing?” His words were not slurred, nor were they sluggish. They were calm and slowly chosen. The King acted as such, with a voice deliberate.

  “You know. My father long ago, told me a story.” He motioned his hand closer to the crowd. “He told me a story about three kings. The Mad King, the Drunken King, and the Hero King.” The King moved forward to his seat. “Let me have your attention for just a moment.”

  The guests opened their ears, the King is not known as empathetic, but his expression bore nothing of the detached monarch he had been. Instead, his glare toward Luna bore nothing but regret and empathy. His voice buckled, heavy with emotion, sweeping over the entire crowd.

  King Phizer made his mind up. He looked to Omar with a slight nod. Omar gulped. The King and he never much could bat an eye at each other. Luna tugged Omar’s arm, concern bore across her pores, for she had never seen her father like this. Omar held her tightly, while the King nodded in approval. For the uncharted waters they were in, had no destination.

  “The three kings had three reigns over three kingdoms. The first, the Mad King, sought the most awful ways to terrorize his country to do his bidding. The man defiled women, tormented his soldiers.” The King crumbled his hands. “Just an awful human, as humans could be. So…” King Phizer jerked himself with a forced grin.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “The people defiled him. They raided his castle and rebelled, hanging him in the center of the capital. For his thirst for power, led him to a death so awful his children decided to flee from the kingdom.”

  The assembled guests exchanged glances, for the King’s unexpected reasoning hung in the thick air. He paused, his hand resting on a cross around his robe. King Phizer looked back at Luna with whimpering eyes. He kissed the cross bolstering his strength, sniffling at the piece.

  Luna’s expression in awe. “That was my mother's.” She resonated. Omar and everyone from Belkos looked at her. Amy noticed it too, as her expression gleamed with hope.

  The King continued with a nod. “The Drunken King. He was a fair ruler, and let more than he should from his nation go on. But the king continued to find himself at the bottom of his goblet, year in, and year out. He was just drunk. And drunk.” King Phizer began to laugh. “And fucking drunk, until his body couldn't handle it. So, his heart failed him, and the King, fair as he may have been, died from his fault.”

  The doors around the ballroom shut. Leonidas peered from closing the double doors, locking glances with the King. The King shook his head in defiance. Leonidas bitterly grunted in silence. The King lifted his gaze and rose from his seat on the dais. His mind still boggled by the unfamiliar faces in the crowd, he gulped.

  “The third King. The hero king never feared death. He worked every day to ensure he could realize his potential in this life. Every day seemed like his last, but he defied death. The Hero King surged through battles, opened borders, and lived a life so grand, it almost seemed fictional to the common ear.” The King paused. He looked down from the dais.

  “I have been each one of these kings, except the hero king.” King Phizer apologized.

  “My daughters suffered a great pain because I blamed them for failing. I put my life into becoming Edindale’s King, a King, each one of you could respect. But, as I sit here today, I understand, that even though I do not know the people it is, I am to protect. I didn’t hear your voices, I drank away my problems, because I was not capable of facing them. I thought I was weak. The truth is… every man has to live for something. It could be small, it can be large. But, life isn’t about how long we walk this realm. It is about what we do with each blinking second of our lives. In this life, I have failed.”

  The room fell silent, the weight of his words swung open the floodgates to every guest in the room. Each word cut deeper into empty promises, he finally addressed. The hearts of each guest listening opened. A sudden fever fell upon the King, he extended his hand from the dais, being helped from off the stage.

  Omar remembered Dragni’s revolution in Halluburg. Shocked pecked his face, for a newfound hope arrived. The King’s voice rose to outstanding heights.

  “I failed my family. I failed my kingdom. I became the Mad Drunken King. All I wanted to be remembered for was being a hero. “The King slowly made his way towards Omar’s table.

  A ripple of applause began, hesitant whether to clap at first, but it quickly grew, swelling into a thunderous ovation that took over the ballroom. The King stood tall to the ballroom guests. For the first time in their lives, Amy, Damian, and Luna all saw their father hold a real smile. He offered his hand to his eldest daughter, for a simple dance.

  “Luna. Let me aid you in saving our realm.” He offered, in a moment he was no monarch or ruler. Just a father writing out his wrongs. He carried a scarred resilience towards his daughter. Many guests who clapped passed judgment on the King, but he ignored the unknown faces.

  Luna held herself firm for a moment. She dreamed of this day. A chance where she could finally connect to her father. Nothing but all the evilness he brought about her filled her soul. She looked at the hand, searching for the devil she knew. He didn’t reek of wine, nor was his action mad at all.

  Omar brushed his arm around her gently, pushing her to her father. She turned to him in uncertainty, as he cast a trusting nod to comfort her. Luna turned back to the King, taking his hand.

  “Thank you.” She added. King Phizer called his hand for Damian and Amy to join them, in the center of the ballroom, as the violins began to play a soothing and slow orchestra.