Rating: PG

Tayte stared out the window and watched as the love of his life, Trynt, walked away. His heart ached so terrible he thought he’d be sick.

“It’s for the best, son.” His father’s voice didn’t carry the authority befitting a King. He sounded like an apologetic father who’d done something he knew his child would hate him for.

“The best for who?” He turned and faced his father, The King of Naskin. “You or I?”

His fathered sighed. “The best for both of us.”

Tayte’s fist clenched, his nails dug into his palm. “If he dies,” Tayte took a step forward, “I will hold you personally responsible.”

His father’s shoulders slumped as if holding a great weight. “When any perish it is my personal responsibility.” With that his father walked off much slower than a man his age should.

Tayte stood rooted to the spot. His once clenched fist now hung loose. His father’s last words played over and over in his mind. He turned again to find he could barely see Trynt. Thankful they had one last night together before he father’s men came to get him this morning.

When he was King he would bring Trynt home; if the war lasted that long.