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Chapter 3 - Tough Lesson

Alfred looked around the ballroom at all the stunned faces looking at him. All those present couldn't believe what had happened. Alfred saw this and knew he had to do something with this opportunity.

"I have seen it." He shouted, allowing everyone to hear. The nobles didn't dare make a sound, letting him speak. "In my death, I saw our lord, and he has told me it was too early to join him before resurrecting me."

Everyone in the ballroom had shocked faces after hearing those words. Internally, Alfred smirked. He understood the power of religion to people, and an opportunity like this was a chance to gain a large amount of support, especially from the church.

"Impossible! This must be the work of the devil!" A shout came from the sea of nobles. An earl from the faction against Alfred spoke up. People began to whisper amongst each other, some agreeing with the Earl. Alfred went to defend his position but was interrupted before he could talk.

"How could the devil create a miracle? If you can not see the Lord's hands in this, you must be blind." Everyone looked at the source of the voice and shut up, not arguing with him. Alfred saw who it was and smiled as his plan began to work. The man had dark, empty eyes. A religious fanatic, Marquess Raven. He walked closer towards Alfred, his face glowing. "This must be the lord's work. I can feel his presence on you."

Alfred felt his back go cold, looking into Raven's eyes. They were empty, holding no desire inside of them. Alfred just smiled as he slowly stood up. He looked at his uncle and the row of servants lined against the wall. Walking towards his uncle, he placed his hand on his arm.

"Chris, I leave you in charge of the investigation." Alfred turned towards the guard with scars on his face before leaving the ballroom. No one moved whilst he left and just watched his small back disappear.

Chisr began to give orders to the other guards, who led the servants to separate rooms. He turned his attention towards the nobles. He scanned them before turning and leaving, following the direction Alfred went.

Alfred awoke the next day. He was exhausted after the whole ordeal the previous day. Getting ready and eating his breakfast, Alfred went to his office to deal with matters. He looked at a certain note left by his father. He still couldn't understand why he had written it, but it was a major clue to yesterday's incident. It was a small message saying for Alfred not to trust Micheal. With no other context added, he only had this to go off.

Alfred worked through documents for a few hours. He was tired and bored after doing it for so long, so Chris walking in was a nice surprise.

"We have found the suspect for the poisoning. One of the servants had been paid off to do it." Alfred nodded as he thought about it. He knew who was behind it but had no evidence to go after Micheal yet.

"My king," Chris spoke, getting Alfred's attention again. "When are we going to begin?" Alfred understood what he was on about but remained silent. His hand began to shake as he bit his thumb.

"I'm scared, Chris. I don't know if I can do it." Alfred spoke in a soft voice. He knew he wasn't safe yet. His plan was his hope to destroy and deter the majority of the threats he faced. Alfred knew his life was at stake. Yesterday was a good reminder.

"My King. Why does that matter? You are the King. You can't be scared and afraid. You have to do your job. Any act you wish to take, you must take without looking back. You do not have the luxury of acting on feeling. You must act on logic alone. Your father had to live like this, and now you do."

Chris didn't comfort Alfred. His advice gave Alfred a bleak future. He had still not fully adjusted to his new role. Still, these words provided the path he had been looking for. He understood this path before but being told it was different. Alfred clenched his fist and nodded. Lingering on these emotions would get him nowhere. He needed to act.

"Thank you, Chris." Alfred stood up. "Take me to the servant." Chris bowed before leading Alfred to a dungeon. Alfred looked around the damp concrete room. He could hardly see in the dark room.

Chris opened an iron door, revealing the bloodied servant. He had been tortured. The smell of blood and burnt flesh assaulted his nose, causing Alfred nearly to throw up, only stopping himself at the last second. Chris looked at Alfred and nodded in approval. He had to get used to scenes like this.

Alfred took a couple of breaths, adapting to the new environment. He finally got used to it after forcing himself not to throw up a couple of times. Walking closer towards the prisoner, Alfred bent down and picked up the man's chin, forcing him to look at him.

Alfred didn't feel pity for this man. He had killed him for a few gold coins. He could still vividly remember the pain from death. The prisoner's eyes were unfocused. Alfred stared at him for a minute before sighing. He knew he couldn't get anything else from the man.

"A knife Chris." Alfred stuck his hand out, with Chris putting a sharp blade in it. Alfred Looked into the man's eyes. He placed the knife on his neck. His hand shook, but he quickly collected himself. In one quick motion, he plunged the knife into the man's throat, cutting across it.

Blood squirted out, covering Alfred. He refused to look away from the man's body as he knew if he did, he would never be able to rule effectively. He watched as the life in the man's face drained. Alfred watched this and compared his own experience of death. He thought about his father, who died and people in his past life. All these experiences gave Alfred one thought at that moment. Life was extremely fragile. It could be ended at any time, so why worry about death?

Alfred had seen beyond death and knew it wasn't the end. It was just a glimpse into that dark space, but it was enough. His mind changed. His life was precious, but death shouldn't be feared. His fear of it slowly vanished, being replaced by a calmness. All his experience had accumulated to this conclusion.

Alfred stood up, dropping the man's body. Chris walked over, taking the knife from Alfred's hand as he did. He watched Alfred carefully. Alfred lifted his hands and looked at them. It hit him about what he had done, and he threw up. Although his thoughts had changed, he still felt sick about taking a life. Chris just watched but didn't intervene, gently placing his hand on Alfred's shoulder. It was a tough but necessary lesson for Alfred.

Alfred stayed in the prison for around a half hour before he collected himself. Once ready, he looked up at Chris. The light in his eyes had changed. "We begin tomorrow," Alfred said before dashing past Chris.

Walking through the corridor of the place, servants looked at Alfred, drenched in blood, with dark eyes. They shivered in his presence. Alfred called for a bath. As he was being cleaned, he though about the immediate future and sighed.