Pronoia, Elysium
July 1st, 1806
“Have you seen papa?”
Crown Prince Georgios Galantinus looked up to his father’s right-hand man, Duke Alexios Doukas.
The eleven-year-old boy was a curious child, the duke thought. Always talking about how peace was the solution, at such a young age. An idealist and pacifist, for sure. But surely life would sniff such thoughts out of him eventually. The civil war was just over this very day, a momentous news he had just gone to the king to tell him.
But he had not found what he expected.
He had expected to find the king drunk. Talking to himself, or whatever he saw no one else saw. He had expected a lot of things.
But not the dead body of his liege, once a dear friend before the lunacy began to take hold of him.
Pavlos had laid there, half of his body twisted, the other half…peaceful? It was hard to describe. His empty cup next to him, spilled wine all over the carpet. Spittle and…foam around his lips. Now, the king often had that when he was in a rage. The foam. But he wondered…
No matter. He needed to take the reins of government, as was his duty in case of a situation like this. To guide poor Georgios.
He looked down at the boy.
“My liege.”
He saw the face of Georgios twitch a little. Smart boy. He knew what that meant, instinctively.
“Georgios, you are now king. I am afraid…”
The boy cut him off.
“He’s dead.”
Silence.
“Did he suffer?”
“I…”
“I know he was…troubled. But he’s a peace now, with the gods.”
King Georgios looked up at his regent.
“Is the war over? Are we safe?”
The duke regent nodded.
“The war is over, my liege.”
The boy king smiled weakly.
“Then it is time we repaired this country. It’s what my father would have wanted.”
