I Am King Tatu

A prince is born to one day become king. But no prince is born with knowledge of kingship. He can only learn what was taught to him and what he had seen of his father. Where's his father now? Where's the king to guide the prince through his first weeks of kingship? Well, as a parent, is heaven a good excuse to not be there for your children?

Prince Tatu, son of the late King Bili, stands idle in his soon to be former bedroom. Everything that was his has already been taken out: no crumbled papers littering the silver carpet he begged father to buy for him, and many of his quarterstaffs were tossed out or replaced. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱, he thought.

The door to the room opens, entering a lady who's dress hides the length of her legs. You'd say she's too old for glitter, but her brown, striking eyes wouldn't stand for such comments.

"What're you doing here?!" the lady asks. "It's almost time for the ceremony."

"Really?"

"Yes," she says, stepping closer to Tatu.

"Is it really my time to become king? I thought by the time I was to become king, I would've already settled down like you."

"There's still plenty of time to find a wife. But you standing here helps no one. Come, let us go."

"Alright, sister."

They exit the room into an empty hallway, the rapid clicks of the sister's steps fill the silence.

"Such a hurried pace, why?" he asks.

"Why's your room so far from throne chamber?"

"I begged father for it."

"Of course." She looks down at her watch. "We'll be there in time."

After they take a couple of turns, sounds of jubilant subjects can be heard. The closer they get, the louder the sounds of jubilation become.

She halts a few metres away from the entrance of the chamber, turns to Tatu and starts fixing his ceremonial mantle; such a large singular piece of red silk with gold trims could make even a peasant royalty. She gives him a final look over, a smile brightens her face.

"After you," she says, and he obliges.

Tatu walks through the chamber doors, focusing on the throne where sits the crown, and before it stands the prime minister.

"Khayen, so you found your brother!"

"Yes, mother," she says.

Tatu asks, "Where's mother?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Indeed you are, and looking beautiful I might add--"

"Only the best gown shall do." She starts flaunting.

A finely suited gentleman walks up to the three of them. Bowing, he says, "Prince Tatu, its time for the ceremony to begin. Please make way to the platform. Prime Minister Nati awaits."

Tatu doesn't even say a word, he just ambles forward through the center of the room. He grabs a drink off one of the salvers and chugs it. Immediately, a burning sensation fills his chest. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬? After placing the empty glass on another salver, he walks over the few steps onto the platform. For he now stands on the highest official ground of the kingdom.

He shakes the plump hand of the prime minister. It's his first time greeting the man. And soon he'll be seeing this round, puffy face more often.

The joyful atmosphere quiets, but there's still noise from the many a people outside the palace. Who wait to be addressed by their new king. But in here are people of most importance, like the members of Conrad.

As the prime minister begins the pleasantries, Tatu scans the crowd for his mother. Where is she? And doing what, exactly?

The pleasantries must have finished, because the prime minister now proceeds to lift the crown off the seat.

"Prince Tatu, please bend the knee so I may place the crown atop your head!"

Tatu kneels. His father should've been the one inducting him, but death is despicable and punctual.

The weight of the crown adorns his head. What should he be feeling at this moment? What should he's first thoughts as king be?

"The gold you now wear is our symbol of abundance and prosperity in all things, the duty to provide a quality of life to all citizens and uphold the values of our cultures. Now rise Tatu kwaOwes, King of Gazi!"

With those words uttered, ululations liven everyone in attendance.

Tatu stands, casting his gaze over the celebratory dances of some of the guests. But his mother is still not here. Where could she be?

"Please simmer down!" the prime minister says. "Let us hear the parting words of our new king, before we change venue."

Everyone's attention now lies on Tatu, waiting to eat up any words he may spew forth.

Tatu stays silent for a few more seconds, then places his rear gently on the cushion of the throne. He wriggles in its comfort, and says, "Many times I've asked father if I could to sit on the throne. But he would say 'only when you're king'. I have stolen time to sit on it before, but that time I was a child. I wasn't sitting on it, it was merely pretend. So today, I am sitting on the throne like father said I would. And even though its mine now, I'll always remember it as his."

At this moment, only the noise outside can be heard. Everyone in attendence has their head bowed. His father is not here, he knows that. But why only one of his mothers?