Laverick Cote

*I walk, jingling each step, to the thrown room, my head held steady as I force myself to enter. I look up and see Mother sitting to His left. She looks away. I can’t blame her, I wouldn’t want to look upon my son forced to wear bells and tights either. I was held down as a few guards took joy in painting my face, I’m sure it looks like garbage. Because I must, I bow to the usurper King who then orders me to kiss his child’s feet. I grit my teeth and turn to you who sits at his right hand.*

*i look at my father angry*

*He laughs, I see you are angry, he knows your weakness. He knows that he has the power to hurt you. Your father looks at you, his eyes are cruel and cold. He looks back to me and nods. I must go to you.*