The announcement

Darius

As I walked away from the conversation with my father, a million questions raced through my mind. I felt a wave of confusion wash over me after that conversation. How could the mighty and wise Edward of Avalon be so ill? It seemed impossible for someone so powerful to be suffering from such an ailment, but yet, here we were.

Even more confusing were the answers that my father had given me—they made no sense. Was this real, or was it all just an elaborate trick? I don’t know what to believe.

My father is undeniably strong. He ruled Avalon with an iron fist, and it is because of him that this nation came so far. Even though there are times when I question his strength; he can be overly demanding and unyielding in his views. Still, I know that he did what he thought was best for our people and this land.

Now the Great King Edward of Avalon is sick and can no longer lead. What surprises me is that he says he can no longer lead the kingdom, but my father looks strong and healthy. What the fuck is going on?

The royal jewels adorn my neck, a heavy reminder of the expectations that await me—to embrace a destiny of leadership and political games. Can I shoulder this burden and marry the woman I know nothing about just to forge alliances? Will I be ready for my crowning when the time comes?

No fucking way! My determination to find a woman for myself burns brighter than the hottest fires of a thousand suns; I understand that the gossip will spread like wildfire amongst these insatiable princesses, all wanting a piece of what they believe is theirs for the taking—whether it be in exchange for a dinner or lunch invitation.

I am torn between my desire for true love and the fear of dealing with unwanted visitors.

"Your Highness, would you like to go somewhere to relax?" My teeth grind together as I hear the title uttered from my royal right-hand man's lips. "Your Highness..." I hiss, words dripping with venom. Andrew wisely steps back but stands firm in his invitation. Without even looking at him, I bark out a single word: "No." The hallway falls silent, knowing that to press the matter further would be foolish. I can feel his eyes on me as I slam my fist into the wall. A spiderweb of cracks radiates outward from my fingers, and I breathe in deeply, mustering up a false sense of calm. This idea of me taking over the throne is getting to me.

I hate being called your Highness, but right now I have no choice but to accept what it is. I looked at my right-hand man, Andrew, and answered.

"Of course, a massage in my chambers. Make it quick and bring the new girl," I order, my voice deadly calm as I take confident strides toward my chambers, hoping to collect my thoughts before making my next move. But just as I turned the corner, Andrew couldn't let me walk in peace. He rushed over to me and stood before me with a bow.

"Your Highness, you know that's not possible. The last time she was..." His words hung in the air like a death knell before I finally broke the silence and spoke again.

"I don't care. The new girl! To my chambers right now." My eyes blazed as I silenced him with a look, my voice like fire as I snapped and tried to keep a faster pace than usual, almost as if I were racing against something. I felt a strange sense of urgency, urging me forward, but I wasn't sure why.

I strode into my chambers, every step reverberating like a marching drum as I marched toward an inevitable reality. My father's sickness meant I must take a queen and become the new monarch of our kingdom, yet I had not yet found a woman worthy of that great honor. The pressure of my impending destiny crowded the room as I stood, searching desperately for answers in the emptiness.

I've experienced my fair share of relationships with women, never settling for anything more. My mother desperately sought out princesses and other high-society figures in an attempt to get me to settle down, but I felt no inclination to give them a chance. I simply wanted to keep fucking as I went and not tie myself down.

I clench my fists as I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to accept the fate that awaits me. The thought of marrying a woman I do not love for the sake of the throne disgusts me beyond measure. Marriage should be based on love and companionship, not political advancement and wealth. There is no way I can bring myself to succumb to this injustice.

I heard a light knock at the door, and I knew it was her. The new girl.

"You may enter," I growled, my jaw clenching tight with rage. My gaze cut through the air like a blade, the pressure in my head threatening to erupt into a wave of fury. With each passing second, my anger grew stronger, until it seemed as if the entire room was about to be consumed by a raging inferno.

"You called for me, Your Highness." She spoke, her voice gentle yet strained with a hint of uncertainty.

"Take off my clothes," I demand, my arms wide open, as I dare her to do it. Maybe if I stood bare, with no protection, this overwhelming burden on my shoulders would lessen. Without a stitch of clothing, my vulnerability is laid bare, and I wait for the release from this heavy load.

A fire seemed to ignite in her eyes as she slowly ripped away my suit jacket and shirt, exposing my taut, muscled chest. Unable to contain myself, I crossed the room in three strides and sat on the couch situated just close to the window, allowing her to slip off my shoes with deft fingers. When all was removed from my feet, I stood up, providing her with access to my pants.

Mother shelters me from the harshness of the world, carefully choosing female attendants to come and tend to my needs; Bath, clothe, and massage me. Petite ones, full-figured ones, they all are here for me. I know deep down that she wants me to learn how to fuck, but little does she know I've been having sex since I was sixteen. Despite my knowing better, there's something special about being touched by a woman; the warmth of her skin against mine is far more invigorating than any man’s hands could ever be.

My mother would always ask every girl I call if I touched them, but to her disappointment, I have touched none. I will never touch these girls. Let's just say that my feelings died a long time ago. I have no feelings left, so even with their touch, I feel nothing.