"N..not me?" "Not you."
“STOP! I ORDER YOU TO STOP!” I yell at the group of men who were busy trying to restrain the raven haired man, who was busy lashing out at them, trying to get away, clearly deathly afraid but trying his damndest not to let it show. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!?”
His eyes, which were an odd shade, somewhere between a hazel and a green, went wide with shock. His jaw threatens to drop, but he keeps it in check, that would not have been very polite. The men that were holding him, I can see now that they had an iron grip of his hand, I understood now. But that did not mean that I had to like it.
“Sire, this man is-“
“He stole from me, he deserves-“
“SILENCE!” I order everyone there, who were all talking over each other, their desperate explanations overlapping and mixing in with each other, sounding like babble that I was unable to understand.
“Sire,” Robert is standing beside me, he almost always accompanied me on my walks, even when I had dismissed all of the others, he often remained. If he had been wealthier, or of a higher status other than a servant, I would have perhaps liked to have gotten to know him better, to maybe even become friends. But I was the ruling monarch, he was a low class servant, it was his job to serve me and nothing else. Besides, I was the king, I didn’t need friends.
“Sire, I believe that these men are trying to inform you that this man here,” he points a hand at the raven haired, pale skinned man, “has committed a crime. I believe that they are trying to tell you that he is a thief.”
My eyes narrow, and I cast them on the group of men I front of me, the ones that still had not let the other man, the thief go. “Is what Robert tells me true?” I asks them, my voice cold and uncaring. Though, for some odd, unexplainable reason, I did care. Not about them, of course, but strangely enough I actually cared about the man who was likely to have stolen something. And I, Frank Iero the eighth, detested thieves; they were among the lowest of the low.
“Yes, your majesty,” the words do not come from the men, nor are they said with any fear behind them, or any respect. Only a deep loathing. The speaker had practically spat the words at me. “It is true.” The speaker was the dark haired man, the one with the unusual eyes dressed in little more than rags. The one who was little more than skin and bones. For some reason I felt sorry for him, I wished to help him, if I could. Strange, as I had seen many poor people before, I normally didn’t spare a thought for them, but this man, this thief, was different. Perhaps it was because despite the situation he was in, despite the fact that he was almost quivering in fear, he still was trying to act like a brave man, one that was not going to go down without a fight. I had to respect that.
“I wish for you to release him.” The men pale and their hate filled eyes widen. It takes a lot of effort and control on my behalf to not smirk at them or tell them what I really thought of them.
“But, Sire, this man is-“
“Do yo have any evidence?” I ask the balding man, he had blue, tired looking eyes and his voice was shaking, along with the rest of his frail looking body as he spoke to me.
“Yes, I woke up one morning and found that I was missing six whole pounds and three shillings.” The man spat on the already dirty street that was lined with rotting vegetables, and dirty, waste water.
“How can you be certain that it was the work of this man?”
“He worked for me on my farm; he was the last worker there the night before my money was stolen.”
“Very well then.” I watched as the accused man`s eyes flickered shut, and his pale, chapped and badly bitten lips moved as he whispered something, possibly a prayer under his breath. “I still wish for this man to be released.” The looks of pure disbelief I received from many of the men (the others glared, their eyes full of anger and hate) was almost enough to make me laugh, bit I refrained.
Even Robert was surprised, and to be honest he most certainly did not look the least bit impressed. He was a wise man though, so he did the clever thing and held his tongue.
“You may depart now.” The large group that had been gathered to watch walked away, the small group of men including the farmer who had accused the man of stealing, left, muttering something under his breath.
“Not you,” the pale skinned man froze.
“N…not me?” I shake my head and smile at the poor stranger.
I… I could not believe it. This man, the king was actually standing up for me. He stood there, dressed in all his rich clothing, a determined look full of suppressed anger on his young face. I could, not believe my ears when he told the men that were restraining me to leave; I was even more happily surprised when they actually did.
“Ow…” I mumble under my breathe, watching as they all left, like defeated animals with their tails between their legs I wince as I rub the red skin of my wrist where the one man, the dark haired one had been holding it in a very secure, iron grip. I turn to walk away, unsure whether I should thank the short, brown haired man who had saved me, but I doubted that the king of all people would wish to speak to me, so I decided against it. I turn to walk away when he calls after me, authority ringing in his voice.
“Not you.” I froze, worried I had done something wrong, I usually did.
“N…not me?” he smiles, shaking his head, dark hair falling forwards to cover his face slightly.
so, please let me know if you liked it/if you want to be in it. Just say names, looks, personality, that sort of thing. Hope you liked it, I`ll update soon as