The clock ticked as the hand grew closer to my time. Hot tears streamed down my face as I glared at the rotating hand. Through the barred window, I could see the sun setting creating an eerie glow in my cell, letting me know the noose was itching to find it's place around my neck. With the pressure building, I continued to furiously write out this letter which you are reading. Before I continue, I’d like to make clear that I do, in fact, have dignity; I do deserve this outcome, although two other characters are just as worthy. Please consider the situation I am about to explain, and contemplate whether or not our soon-to-be ruler is as honorable as he says he is. 

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Confusion clouded the dank room. After all, it was three hours past midnight; the sky was black as ink and the only light aside from the moon was the burning candle flickering in the center of the table. Shadows danced across the room and cast themselves across the figures' face’s making them appear gaunt and daunting. The king had called the three of us to this meeting, without providing a reason why. It was quite an odd predicament. To my right was the King’s brother, Opis, sitting rigid in his chair. He was dressed in an emerald doublet with golden cuffs, surprisingly elegant attire for the late hour. In all respects, I was quite comfortable with the man; I had played with his brother, Commodus, now the king, since the day he was born, and there was rarely a time when I wasn’t invited to their home for dinner. To my left, however, was Ardeo, the King’s trusted advisor. He had a way of staying to himself, and it seemed as though he always had something up his sleeve. The moment I realized he was in the room, my skin began to crawl and I was immediately on guard. Ardeo was adorned with an ornate vest with the King’s family crest stitched across the front; a pathetic way to get the King’s attention, in my opinion. Silence flooded the room. It appeared no one wanted to talk. 

“Do any of you know why we were called here? I may be reading into things, but this is unlike the King. A meeting in the middle of the night? Not to mention, I was told about this as I was leaving the armory an hour ago. My close friend and knight, Edmund, whispered the orders to me as he was heading for the castle! Why must he whisper it, anyhow? Is this meeting meant to be undisclosed?” I asked my companions. 

“Well, Alex, judging from the details you’ve just provided, I do believe this is a secret meeting. And I do have an idea what it is about,” Ardeo said sarcastically. 

“And what is that?” Opis questioned, his eyes darting to Ardeo.

“My! I’m surprised you don’t know! The doctor did just come today though, and he left with terrible news. His examination has found that the King has, what a devastating statement to deliver, contracted the plague,” the Advisor finished quietly. I stared at him for a moment, my mouth agape. The King, Commodus, my closest friend, now had Death leering over his shoulder.  I looked over at Opis, who was sitting shock-still, looking off into the distance conveying no emotion. 

“That-that’s terrible,” I stuttered, breaking the silence. “But, how did he get it? We’ve never had a case of the plague, not in our people anyway. The only one I can remember is from a few days ago, with your hunting dog, Opis. My condolences, by the way.”

Opis looked up, somewhat surprised. “Oh, right, yes. It was a hard loss. Not just for me, but for the King as well; see, we had grown up with the dog. I made sure, however, to let him say goodbye to her before the doctors put her down. Nevertheless, concerning the tragedy at hand, I must ask, who else knows? Is the doctor sure? How much longer does the King have?” 

“Only the Queen, the doctor and I know. Her Majesty has not moved from his side since the news. She sits there in a chair, gazing at him, enjoying every last moment before he slips away. She refuses to eat or bathe. The doctor doesn’t know when his time will come. He explains that he’s had cases of the plague in which the victim is dead in hours, and some when they linger on for a few more weeks. Although in this case it seems like the moment the King received the news, the sickness overtook him. You remember him this morning, don’t you? He had the normal bounce in his step. Now his face has turned a pale shade of gray, and his throat has formed these red bumps. In fact, I’m surprised that he’s able to make it to this meeting.”

“What is he going to talk about, do you think? His disease?”

“I assume that is what he is coming to discuss with us. And what is in store after his passing,” Ardeo answered with a deadpan expression. 

“What do you mean, “what is in store after his passing”? Are you suggesting there is a question as to whom is going to ascend to the throne?” Opis inquired for the first time during the entire meeting. 

“As we all know, Opis, you are next in line. Alex and I, however, are as deserving,” Ardeo replied, “I am the King’s closest and most trusted advisor and take part in all the business of the castle. Meanwhile, Alex here is the King’s best friend and has been in his shadow for the past thirty years.”

“Well, that’s one way to put it,” I grumbled, “You are right, though, Ardeo. Opis, you may be his brother, but I do believe I’m more deserving of the King’s title. I’m practically his brother; I’ve been with him through all his obstacles and setbacks and have been loyal to him throughout. I was the best man at his wedding! You may be next in line, Opis, but I have more experience.” 

“More experience, you say?” Ardeo asked slyly. “Why, that’s quite a tall tale to tell. You’re his best friend, correct? So you’re there for all the fun and games; he comes to you when he wants a break from the never-ending responsibility that comes with that crown. Meanwhile, a few hours ago, while the King was slowly wasting away in his bedchamber, I sat at his bedside and shared a glass of wine while we discussed what to do with the growing feeling of revolt among the town citizens. I know all the ins and outs of the castle; all the plans, tricks, and strategies the King has in mind. I am also close to the queen.”

“One might say too close. You tried to court her, didn’t you? When you were younger? Are there lingering feelings, Ardeo? Is there a reason you are so close to the King?” Opis asked, with any bit of lingering friendliness gone from his face.

“That was a long time ago. I-I would never do such a thing.” Ardeo muttered, looking at the floor appearing a tad flushed. I looked at Opis slightly astonished, coming to the same conclusion that had left him with a smirk on his face. 

We sat in silence for the next few minutes, waiting for the King’s arrival, considering the predicament we were in. All of sudden, the parlor door swung open and a Knight ran through. 

“The King has been murdered!” He gasped. Simultaneously, we jumped up and began talking all at once.

“By who? How? Is the queen alright?” Ardeo demanded.

“When? Where is the assailant now? Who is taking charge?” Opis urged.

“Is he truly dead? What was the weapon used? Do the people need someone to fight for them to show that they are safe?” I pressed. The knight stood there looking at us, the three most important people in the court looking to him for answers.

“There were three attempts. But in only one of the attempts did the assasin come forward,” The knight said gravely, looking at us with beady eyes, “One was with poison. Crushed up leaves of the foxglove plant were found in his wine. The plant sped up his heart to a point where he stopped breathing. But that’s only one guess.” 

We stood there, staring at the knight, unwilling to give anything away.

“The second was disease,” The Knight continued, “The King showed symptoms this morning, but there are countless speculations as to where he could have gotten it. After all, we’ve never had a case in the castle.” 

“And finally, the last attempt is no longer a guess, since the attacker came forward. Yet it surprises me the most. A Knight was sent up to the royal bedchamber a few hours ago to stab the King to death. We found him in the King’s room just now with the knife raised above his head, but he showed no sign of bringing it down into the King’s heart. In fact, when he realized we were in the room, he fell to his knees and explained how he had been set up.”

“Who was it?” I asked, with a deadpan expression. “Who set him up?” My palms had gone clammy and there was no color left in my face. 

The knight stared at me with revolt in his eyes and said, “It was you.”

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My execution is in an hour. I can see the crowds beginning to form around the platform ready to protest the death of their beloved King. Observing the execution from his throne will be Opis, the ornate crown atop his head. Ardeo, on the other hand, will most likely be lost in a tavern, drinking away his sadness caused by the queen's suicide. People say she grieved herself to death. As I said before, I do have dignity. I understand why I deserve this death. Yet the man drinking himself to death and the brother atop his ugly throne are just as worthy.