Short Story: The Truth

At noon, a man died by the executioner’s blade.

Some thought it a fitting end for someone who blasphemed against their benevolent king.

Others considered him a martyr, dying in his quest to uncover the child king’s lies.

The truth was that the man was a scapegoat, and the only two people aware of the deception sat on opposite sides in an empty room. The head adviser leaned back in her seat, unconcerned by the child king’s narrowed eyes.

“Nothing can be hidden forever. One day, people will find out what you’ve done,” the king warned.

“You know better than anyone that history is created by the victor. And I intend to win.”

She rose to her feet.

“I have an appointment in ten minutes so I’ll take my leave,” she said, dismissing herself from their private meeting.

“This isn’t over,” the king said.

The adviser bared her teeth in a sharp smile. “Of course not. We’ve been playing this game before you were even born. Better keep up, little king.”

She bowed to him, deep and proper. When she straightened, she was every bit the pleasant and loyal counsellor the country knew and loved.

Young iron met hidden steel.

“Long live the king.”

~End~

 

Genre: general

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