It is has arrived, the final part of the Royal Pains series! I hope you enjoy it and be sure to let me know what you think about it. If you have not the first four parts of the story, I highly recommend you do so. Here is the first part, and the others are linked at the bottom of the story.

As the young man stepped out of the study with his shoulders high and his spirits low, he was unable to stop replaying the words the king – his father – had let pass his lips only moments before. He could not rule a duchy much less an entire kingdom. He had never believed himself capable of reaching a status any higher than that of a knight, and now this near stranger expected him to learn to become king. How had his life changed so drastically?

The tall, broad young man surely had the looks of a fierce king, for he shares many characteristics with the man on the throne now, but his education was minimal and court mannerisms had never been taught. He was not fit for the throne, so why had King Tennesley pushed so hard, as if there was no choice? The advisors in the room had looked on with hope and, strangely, relief.

Was Maddox, the soon-to-be crown prince, missing some vital information?

As his thoughts swirled in his head, Maddox walked calmly back to his grandiose chambers in search for a moment, only a moment or two, of solitude, though he feared even a life of silence could not cure the headache that came with his new responsibilities.

King! How could anyone believe him to be capable of ruling a nation, a poor soldier with barely enough knowledge to read and write?

In the room recently vacated by the young man, a woman and two men sit in awkward silence, waiting for something that no one could identify to break the tension that held the room in its vice grip. It came in the form of a cough from the man standing behind the king’s desk, the sovereign’s closest advisor and friend.

“Madam, I have not had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon your beauty in quite some time. How have you been these last several years?” Ulric spoke with a tenderness befitting that of a loving friend, but the woman could see the thoughts he dared not speak. Why did you leave? Were you not to be Queen? How could you remain hidden for so long? Questions she would refuse to answer, as the answers seemed obvious to her.

“Ulric, how I have missed your flattery, but I have been quite fine since our last visit. You seem to be doing well also,” graceful as a dove was Emmalie’s reply. She decided that they would be more productive and much less awkward, however, if the group could begin the discussion at hand, the thought of which she readily spoke.

“Yes, dear Emmalie, we shall,” spoke the king. He continued by explaining the years since her departure, including his sham of a marriage, the parties sent to search for her – stopped by the former king, and the certainty that he had that his son would, with some well-placed guidance, make a marvelous king one day.

“He will begin the training we had previously discussed, pertaining to his skill with a blade, as soon as possible, followed shortly by a continuation of his education and the training he would have begun to receive from me as well as my advisors had he been born the heir apparent.” The king was silent, taking in the face of the woman he loved – the mother of his son, apparently – as she absorbed the information handed to her. He warned, “He will face much opposition from courtiers. He will be forced to focus as he will receive eight years of education in much less time than his peers. I feel that he can succeed, but I do not know him as well as you.”

Emmalie stared at him with a protectiveness only a mother could own and said, “He is my son and he is strong, he is intelligent, he is passionate. Most importantly, though, he is brave and he will do whatever deeds and face whatever challenges he must to be successful. He may be scared and young now, but he was born for this and he will not fail.”

One Year Later. . .

Though trouble was not expected during the trip to the neighboring kingdom’s capital, the king had prepared for every possible inconvenience, and he had also forced his son’s guard to prepare as well. The group, which consisted of roughly twenty soldiers, two of the prince’s advisors, a few servants, and the prince himself, were approaching an ally, yet the king still unsteady about the trip his son would embark upon. He would see the boy, just nineteen years, and his companions off tomorrow at dusk and he and the boy’s mother would wait impatiently for the news of safe arrival.

Torin had seen his son off on trips much more dangerous than this, and, yet, an uncomfortable feeling sprang into his stomach. He was most likely simply tired. Maddox was simply to visit the princess he had become enraptured with, take part in a few renegotiations, and then travel back to the palace the boy now called home. So why was the king so distraught? There was no sense behind his feelings. No rebels had threatened the monarchy, in fact, the people took to Maddox quickly and with much admiration. War was not upon them. The trail they would be traveling was free of bandits. What could go wrong?

As the group of travelers readied that morning for their departure, Maddox fought with his father about the number of soldiers and servants accompanying him on the journey, stating that he used to be the singular guard and did not require such a retinue. Torin, however, simply listened and nodded without acquiescing an inch on the number in the group, which caused Maddox to sigh and give up on the fight he knew he could not win. Following the defeat, the young man climbed atop his horse and, soon, set a hurried pace towards the eastern horizon.

It was midday, halfway through their journey when they were suddenly stopped in the forest of the neighboring kingdom. They were far from any town or village and had been keeping watch of their surroundings, but a small group of highly skilled archers and swordsmen were well camouflaged by the dense trees surrounding the trail. Soon after the first few soldiers were swiftly killed, chaos erupted. Soon, the only thing the prince could focus his mind on was survival and the man he fought. No matter how talented and well trained the young man was, he was soon devastatingly outnumbered and overpowered by the men and their weapons. He was seemingly the last man standing.

They taunted and jabbed, punched and stabbed, but they did not aim to kill instantaneously, no they had been paid handsomely to assure that this man suffer. They were to torture, tie, and gag the foreigner, escorting him into a rarely traveled area where they would leave him to bleed out, dry up, or become infected, so long as he was dead at the end.

Maddox had been knocked unconscious, but he was alive, which was good. He was thirsty and ill, but alive. His bones hurt, his eyes wouldn’t open, and he felt a deep-set weariness settle, but he could also feel someone touch his wounds as if to ease the pain. Then blinding pain flashed as the object upon which he had been laid was jostled, causing him to believe that he was in a carriage.

“What? Where am I?” the prince slowly opened his eyes as far as he could, enabling him to see... his savior? His captor?

“Hush, your highness,” the man was from the neighboring kingdom if the accent was any indication. “You are safe for now, but that may not last. We found one of the men who did this to you, and we are now on our way back to the palace,” The man continued to tend to the prince’s wounds, only stopping to rummage through his bag. “Here, drink this. It will help your pain.”

Without much choice, the prince swallowed the liquid, and soon his moment of lucidity was no more.

King Tennesley was in a raging mood. He had not received any notice of his son’s safe arrival, which should have come only a day after the arrival. The notice was now three days late, and his darling wife had, of course, been no help either, nagging about one thing or another and not giving a care to her stepson’s well-being.

“Torin? Has there been any news,” a sweet voice asked, coming from the open doorway of his study. The king turned to see the woman his son belonged to and yet did not belong to him.

“Emmalie, no, there has been no news. Nothing should’ve happened. The roads between our two capitals are of the safest in the land, and yet I feel that something terrible has befallen our son.” Seeing the normally graceful and stoic woman tear up caused him excruciating pain. “I plan to send a search party tomorrow to find the reason behind his disappearance. Rest assured, we will find him. You must go to your chambers now, Emmalie, it is much too late for you to be out without an escort.”

“I know but-,” Before she could finish her declaration, rushing footsteps sounded down the hall.

“Your Majesty,” started the hurried page, “a group of men have come. They insist upon seeing you, your majesty.”

“At this hour! What could the men possibly need that couldn’t wait until the morning?”

The poor boy looked awestruck, and the king knew what he was going to say before he spoke, “Sire, they say that his highness is with them.”

The king could not remember the trip to the group, nor could he remember the gibberish coming from the page. His son was home! He could only remember the look of the man lying upon the makeshift bed, looking as if all the world had attacked while he had been unarmed. Cuts infected with illness, bruises along nearly every inch of skin, swelling accompanying the bruises, and dirt and rocks embedded into his son’s skin caused the king’s world to stop. He could not even tell if Maddox was alive and breathing, only that he was here, home.

Anger the likes of which had never been felt by Torin before, hot, coursing anger, flowed through his veins as the tall and imperious king turned towards one of the men that had brought the prince home in such a condition. Seething, the king announced, “You will tell me everything you know about the who, why, and how of this situation whether I have to force it out of you or not.”

“Your majesty, we would not be of much service to you in that matter, but we may have someone who could, though he may have less of an inclination to help,” the leader of the group, it seemed, supplied. He, then, ordered one of the others to bring a dirt and blood covered man out of one of the many carriages. He turned back around and said, “Your majesty, this man was involved in the assault on his highness the prince.”

Stunned silence radiated around the crowd that had begun to congregate despite the late hour. The king simply nodded, ordered his Master of the Guard to take the prisoner, and, then, knelt by his boy’s prone body until the healers attending to his wounds order that he be moved. Upon the relocation of the prince, Torin glanced at the leader once again and decreed, “You will follow me into my study and tell me whatever you know. Your men will be well taken care of and given rooms in the palace. It is late, so let us quickly discuss these atrocious matters.

The man began to speak of the incident before they had arrived at the study, detailing the scene he and his men, traders throughout the Allied kingdoms, had come upon after high sun three days before. The entire story was laid in front of the king as he attempted to digest that someone had tried to have his child murdered. He learned that, though one of the advisors and most of the servants had survived the attack, everyone else had perished at the hands of a highly skilled group of assassins.

The men had recognized the prince and immediately sought to help as many of the group as they could, though efforts were focused on the Heir Apparent. They had traveled back to the inn that had housed them the night before and took a day or so to assess and treat the most grievous injuries, which caused the late arrival. The group’s healer could recognize multiple severe cuts along with broken bones and a contusion to the head.

The men were unable to get much out of their prisoner, other than that they had been hired to slowly kill the prince. King Tennesley thanked the man for his great help and called a servant in with orders to take the man to an available room and provide food and water for a bath to all the men that took part in saving his son.

Once the man and servant had left, Ulric entered the room with a look of worry and the Master of the Guard. Believing he would be unable to handle much else on this night, Torin asked, “What do you have to report? Surely the man did not supply the information so readily?”

“Fortunately, the man had not an ounce of true loyalty to his employer, for when we of offered not to kill him for treason he described the intricacies of the job they were hired for, including their employer.”

“Well, do not keep me in suspense. Who hired those thugs to kill my son?”

The queen was readying herself for bed with help from the servants when the outer door burst open. She straightened in her seat and was quite grateful that she had already changed into her nightwear, for the king needed as much incentive as possible if her plan was to work.

“Your Majesty! You cannot see the queen right now, for she is underdressed! It is inappropriate,” Yana heard her servant announce. Fearing that he would indeed leave, she stood and walked towards the door leading to her sitting room.

Speaking to the servant, she said, “It is quite alright, we are married after all. You’re dismissed for now.” As she turned back to see Torin, she noticed his angered face and felt slightly less confident as she announced, “My dear husband, how nice of you to come by. Come in, come in. It is quite late, though.” Unbeknownst to her, twenty soldiers started to the door as she spoke, ready to march into action.

“Yes,” the king started, “it is a good thing you’ve dismissed your maid, Yana for we do not wish to embarrass or inflict fear into innocents.” The soldiers began to file through the door, accompanied by Ulric and the Master of the Guard. Though none could see the emotions on her face, the king could tell that the Disgraced Queen was feeling the full brunt of their attack.

“What is happening here, Torin. I do not understand!”

“Of course you don’t, for you believed yourself to smart. Am I correct?” His question was not answered as the woman was much too busy examining the men in her room. The king soon became impatient and, so, declared, “Yana Flumbridge, formerly Tennesley, you are now charged with treason in the form of the attempted assassination of His Royal Highness, Prince Maddox Tennesley.”

Yana could no longer keep her loose hold on her composure and spoke with such heat one could assume her mind had snapped, “What? That little brat isn’t dead!? They were supposed to kill him! No,” she continued to scream as the soldiers surrounded her and the Master of the Guard brought her arms around her back in order to secure irons around her slight wrists. “He is not worthy of the crown! He is a simpleton! He and his mother both! They deserved to be killed off! You cannot do this! I am queen and this will be my kingdom!”

He almost felt sympathy for the woman he had been forced to marry all those years ago, but he could not feel anything but anger towards the deranged woman that had tried to kill his son. “Oh, Yana, you are the one that does not deserve the crown. Even though he did not want the responsibility, my son has proven himself more in the one year he has had than you have in the eighteen you have had. We both know that you would only drive the people to revolt, while Maddox has only brought the monarchy closer to the commoners.”

Looking upon her in this moment was hard, as she had lost the thin layer of grace and sanity she applied each day, but he was also glad to be free from her harmful grip once and for all. As he turned to walk away, hearing her scream from behind him, he knew that with the evidence and the pure dislike between her and everyone but a select few, she would be given the maximum punishment for treason, death. She would pay the price of the greedy.

This is the final installment of the Royal Pains Series, and if you wish to read from the beginning the https://www.theodysseyonline.com/royal-pains-part-short-stories-odyessey, https://www.theodysseyonline.com/royal-pains-part-two-short-stories-odyssey, https://www.theodysseyonline.com/royal-pains-part-three-short-stories-odyssey, and https://www.theodysseyonline.com/royal-pains-part-four-short-stories-odyssey parts are here. I've had so much fun writing this story, and I can"t wait to get started on my next adventure! Let me know in the comments what you think about the story and if there is anything (story or article-wise) that you would like for me to write.