King’s Office

• Kaylee Cross, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2021

At fifteen years old, Tommy was the oldest he’d ever been, but never felt so young.

Wilbur’s official chambers were not meant for those outside of his council, but Tommy had never been one for rules. The guard outside the carved double doors sighed, watching the blonde walk down the hallway, and shuffled to the side to let him pass.

“His Majesty has a lot of paperwork to do,” the guard stated, trying and failing to be stern.

“If so, then His Majesty would certainly welcome my esteemed company,” Tommy replied, giving the guard a grin and a salute as he pushed his way into the king’s office.

Beyond the door was a large, sparsely-decorated room. There used to be paintings on the walls of past kings but the first thing Wilbur did as king was take them all down. Tommy remembered sitting on the floor, staring up as Wilbur stood on a ladder and began ripping the paintings from their hooks. Once it was done, Wilbur stood in the centre of his devastation, taking in the bare walls, and nodded to himself, pleased.

The only paintings on the walls now were the landscapes their mother used to make. Tommy glanced at one of a mountain range shrouded in blue mist. He could see in the corner where mother had given him the brush for a few seconds- three errant brushstrokes in an otherwise perfect painting.

Bookshelves stood against one wall, with the others set with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens outside. At the centre of all things was a desk, and a king.

Wilbur sat scribbling away at a roll of parchment. His crown lay discarded beside his ink pot and a cup of cold tea.

“What’re you doing?”, Tommy asked, closing the door behind him.

Wilbur didn’t reply. He gave no indication of even hearing him.

Tommy produced two apples from his pocket. He made his way over to the desk and hauled himself up into a seating position.

“You’ve been here all day, you know,” Tommy said, balancing one of the apples on the tip of his finger. “Missed breakfast and lunch.”

Wilbur only grunted in response.

“Kingdom’s on fire,” Tommy continued. “Rioting in the streets. The guards are staging a coup.”

“Sure, Tommy,” Wilbur scoffed, reaching to dip his quill in the ink pot.

Tommy swiftly moved the ink pot out of his reach. Wilbur glared up at him, albeit with annoyance.

“What do you want, Tommy?” Wilbur asked, irritable.

Tommy took one of the apples and planted it in front of his brother. “Starvation’s a pretty bad way to go,” Tommy said. “Find a less dumb way to die.”

Wilbur stared down the fruit as if he had never seen one before. “I’m not hungry.” He said, at the exact moment his stomach started to growl.

Tommy snorted. “How embarrassing for you.”

“Shut up.” Wilbur put down his quill and reached for the apple. Tommy bit into his own to hide his self-satisfied smile.