The streets of Athens boiled. There was no end to the murmuring, due to the general commotion.
Today was a particularly active day because of this. Diverse people, of diverse beliefs, shared conversations without distinction or prejudice. The only interest lay in the causative axis.
"Have you heard?" Said a gossipy middle-aged woman.
"Have you heard? commented an elderly woman in bewilderment as she sipped tea with her lifelong best friend.
"Are you going to show up at the square today? a sweaty man asked his co-worker.
Even in a small square, where various children's games were played, the voice ran with legs.
"I am the ruler and I condemn you, you lowly wretch. Haha! shouted an infant with joy, while waving a stick simulating a weapon.
At this, a lady quickly approached his small figure. Reproachfully, she waved her finger several times urging that his action was wrong and immoral.
The teary-eyed child rolled up his sleeves pitifully. His childish ignorance did not allow him to understand the gravity of the matter.
"I condemned you, vile humble one!".
...
The reason for this effect could be traced back to hours before.
A determined Federick, who had abandoned his common infantilism or schizophrenic madness, had left his residence.
In his hands, he carried a beautifully carved wooden horse. It was a toy belonging to him, which he had obtained in gratitude for his sympathy.
He did not hesitate in his steps, being firm. His pulse did not tremble before the little horse, heading in the direction of the Palace of Athens.
He recognized the "invisible end". Superficial actions, which hid its true thickness. It could be a reason for his paranoia, but he had to respond firmly.
He must not tremble, or he would be swallowed up in cold oblivion.
Finally, he was only a step away from the office of his grandfather, King Charles II.
Kings were wise and intelligent, the Athenian saying went.
The arrogance of a benevolent King was to need no guards.
As well as the gift of a strong one...
He knocked concisely three times on the thick, high doors. In his left hand, he still held the little horse he once cherished.
At the end of his knock, the doors swung wide open. Revealing the figure of his grandfather, behind various papers.
"Enter." Charles II pronounced in a low, tired voice.
Federick, showing neither nervousness nor gallantry, entered as requested. His eyes focused on the King's aged face.
"Your Excellency, I hope you will allow me an appointment with you." Federick expressed with the utmost respect, remembering the teachings of his masters.
"I am not in the mood, so be quick." Charles II replied sternly.
The pressure was palpable. And it was caused by a stubborn old man and his innocent grandson.
"I hope, Your Majesty, to alleviate your worries. So, here is a gift." Federick said, offering the wooden horse that had belonged to him for years. A gift from the servants of his family.
Charles II raised his eyebrow doubtfully at this demonstration, but a slight smile of interest appeared on his face.
"I see. Now make your point. Charles II said and accepted the toy between his hands incomparable to those of his grandson.
'Though I would have preferred gold.' He thought with humor, observing the details of the toy.
"I come with a request, a severe request. Due to the recent situation, I expect that the punishment will be equitable, without distinction." Federick said unsympathetically.
"Oh... Naturally. As the victim, do you have any other words?" Charles II asked with his interest waning. After all, it was obvious the end of the causes...
"Gallows." Federick simply uttered a word, but one that held comparable weight.
"The tables are turned... Are you sure? Are you sure you are the judge?" Charles II answered rhetorically with extreme seriousness.
"You have to answer," Federick replied with extreme confidence.
"Mhm... You are not ignorant." Charles II appraised with a second glance.
...
With a loud sound, Federick fell limply to the ground. He had bodily hit the cold, hard ground with considerable force.
His right arm had taken the brunt of the impact. He probably wouldn't be able to pick up a feather and walk properly for a week.
On the other hand, his head was spinning, and his teeth were scraped. He could not keep his balance, due to the constant dizziness.
But an electrifying pain jolted his spines, coming from his left cheek. It was slowly flooding with a faint pink color.
There lay the cause of his fall and pain. He had received a firm and accurate blow from the open palm of his grandfather. Who probably weighed more than two hundred kilos...
"But not a victim either". Charles II commented with contempt.
A sickly sneer formed. It was not in heaven, but worldly; He found reason "not in the celestial, but in the earthly".
Hiding among withered boughs and waning moons...