King Him, Not Me
Chapter 8

Cornelius looks out onto the capital from his large bedroom, his wife sitting at his desk while reading. In the royal gardens are his children, they running around and playing happily. The twins, the second, and third eldest look like him. They have his sketchbook brown hair, wavy towards the ends. The older twin and the second eldest have honey yellow eyes while the younger twin and the third eldest have honey brown eyes.

His youngest son looks like his wife, his black hair is just above his ears and wild. The queen’s hair, however, her hair is longer and her eyes are a honey brown.

The twins are twelve, the second eldest is nine, the third eldest is seven, and the youngest is four.

“Winston,” One of the twins shout as they run from him, he trying to catch up.

“Mal! Hesta! Wait for me,” he shouts back, trying his hardest the keep up. His older siblings are faster than him, stronger too. He can only beat them when it comes to learning, he’s smart for his age.

Mal grins then climbs up a statue of his grandfather, “You can’t get me if I’m all the way up here!”

“Yeah!” Hesta chimes as she hangs upside down from a tree branch. The younger’s eyes tear up as he pushes his lips together, unaware of someone behind him. The older touches his shoulder, “I could get them for you, but you’d owe me.”

“Cal!” Winston whines as he looks at his elder brother. He nods then chases after his twin and his younger sister, Winston following behind them. Soon enough, Cal catches them both.

“Cal you’re my twin, not Winston’s,” Mal huffs, “you’re supposed to be working with me.”

“True,” he picks his younger brother up as the third eldest joins them, “but Winston’s still too young to try and keep up with you two.”

Before the third eldest could speak, Cornelius touches her shoulder.

“Children,” he starts, “I and your mother would like to speak with you for a bit. Follow me to our bedroom.”

~

Winston pushes his lips together as he runs towards his mother’s lap, laying his head against her thighs as she gently touches his cheek with a soft smile. The other children move next to her, their father closing the door. Cornelius turns to look at his family, “Winston will be leaving us tonight.”

“What,” Cal asks slowly as he reaches for his youngest sibling, taking him from his mother’s lap and holding him close. Mal grins, “Father must be joking, right? Right,” he asks again as he looks up at his mother. His happy expression turns into shock when he sees the sad expression on his mother’s face, his head turning to look at his father.

“Why,” Hesta asks, “Why Winston and not one of us?”

“Winston doesn’t understand the situation our family is in right now,” he explains, “he’s too young to witness the events that will take place these next few weeks.”

“Where will he go,” the third eldest asks, all the children gradually making their way to block Winston. They didn’t want him to leave, they didn’t want anyone to leave. What their father said is true, they knew of the rebel’s plan to attack the castle. The overheard a meeting one night while Winston was asleep, their father catching them.

Cornelius, “Your aunt’s farm.”

Mal tightens his grip on Winston, “But why must we go to our grandparents while Winston goes to our aunt? Can’t we stay with him.”

“No one knows about Winston,” Cornelius explains as he walks towards his children, “not your teachers, nor your noble friends, nor their parents or the other kingdoms.”

“Winston is to be the new king when your father’s overthrown,” their mother says.

Cornelius sighs, “Petra.”

She looks at him then at her children, “If Winston were to go with you then everyone would find out about him. Your father’s plan is to have Winston grow up in secret and then, when he’s older, reclaim the kingdom.”

“I don’t want to,” Winston whines, “I want to stay with you guys!”

The children shout and cry in protest as Cornelius takes Winston out of Mal’s arms, Petra preventing Cal from following him.

“Mal, Cal, Hesta, Douglas,” Winston shouts through tears as he reaches for his siblings, Cornelius opening the door then leaving the room.

~

“Winston,” his aunt calls from down the steps, “come on down! We’ve got guests!”

Winston, now eight, hurries down the steps as his aunt walks out the way.

“Who’s here, aunt Jean?”

“The Kings family,” she answers, “it’s very important that you meet them.”

Over the course of four years, Cornelius was overthrown and locked away under the castle. Today is one of the first for the new founded royal council. They’ll have their hands full until they’re able to find a new king, they haven’t decided how yet.

The two walk outside their cottage and to the wooden fence as a carriage pulls up along it.

“Straighten your shirt.” Jean whispers to her nephew before watching the Kings family get out, Winston pushing his lips together as he tugs his shirt a bit. He blinks then looks up, seeing a boy with blonde hair. His eyes are plain blue and he’s almost the same height as Winston, just a bit shorter.

“Mr. Kings,” Jean says with a welcoming smile, “what brings you here?”

“I know it’s a bit early for this, but I’d like to discuss some business with you. I’ve brought my sons with me to meet your nephew.”

The two blink when they see the Kings boys staring at Winston, his eyes bouncing between the five shades of blonde in front of him.

“Introduce yourselves,” their father huffs, their eldest brother laughing softly with a nervous smile. His hair is brown like his father’s.

Jean, “You do the same, nephew.”

The children watch the two adults walk towards the sheep shed before looking back at one another, the blondes staring at the girly boy in front of them. Winston grips the hem of his shirt, “W-who are you all?”

“I’m Odis,” the eldest says as he takes a step closer to the shorter, “and these are my younger brothers; Kirk, Dustin, Lance, George, and-.”

“I’m Barin,” the youngest brother says as he moves closer to Winston, “who are you?”

“W-Winston,” he answers as he leans back, Barin leaning forward. He blinks, “Win-what? I’m calling you ‘Winnie’,” he states as he straightens himself, his brothers nodding in agreement.

“Winnie’s a cute nickname,” Odis smiles softly, “Why don’t you five play with Winnie for a bit? Father’s calling me over.”

The children watch as the teen walks towards the sheep shed, he soon talking with the adults.

“Want to play tag,” Barin asks as he looks back at Winston. He nods with a soft grunt, the blondes cheering happily before the game begins.

~

“Oh-ho!” Winston muses with a sly smirk as he cleans the cut wound on Barin’s upper arm, “got into a fight?”

“Shut up and patch it up,” the taller growls, his head turned away from the shorter. Earlier, Winston and Jean came to the Kings’ family farm because they were invited to a party. They came early because Mr. and Mrs. Kings had some things they wanted to talk to Jean about. Winston was with Odis and George behind the large building when Barin stumbled through the bushes while holding a wound on his cheek. He got it from a girl he rejected.

“I can’t believe you got yourself injured before your family’s party. You’re going to have a hideous scar.”

“I said shut up,” Barin spat as his eyebrow twitches, glaring at Winston.

“Okay, okay!” the shorter coos before he reaches in his side bag, pulling out a jar.

Barin scoots back a little, “The hell’s in that?”

Winston, “My aunt uses this stuff to help the wounds on animals heal quickly without scarring.” he lowers his top eyelids halfway as he looks up at Barin, “I wonder if it’ll work on humans.”

“Winnie.” Barin warns as he leans back, trying to get away as Winston pounces on him.

~

Odis, “What is Barin going to do without you, Winston?”

The younger chuckles as he and the eldest Kings watch everyone dance in front of them, Barin grimacing at the girl he’s dancing with.

“He’s three years from twenty,” Winston muses softly, “he’ll be fine without me.”

Odis sighs with a soft smile, “You’re three years from twenty as well. You may not think it, but Barin functions better when you’re around.”

“Ha,” the shorter snorts, “yeah right. Ah, there’s two women approaching us.”

Odis, “Let’s go dance.”

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