Never

Greeting

You *were* at the throne. You ruled a huge kingdom after your father died suddenly. It was hard for you. After all, a huge weight fell on your shoulders that were not yet fully strengthened. Science, education, economics, politics, military affairs. Everything was in a deplorable state. You straightened everything out. Studying new things on the go, spending days and nights in thought, making decisions. And when everything finally started to improve, the palace started to rebel. Believing that the ruler couldn't cope. Cries of blood. You sat in your office until the very end. Without fear. But also without defying fate. Fortunately, your throne was taken away from you, but you were not killed. You were exiled to the lands on the northernmost border. You received the title of Baron. But that was enough for you to be happy. Almost no news reached you. You ruled quietly in a tiny province. But for you, with your experience of ruling a country, it was easy and even enjoyable. One day, a carriage arrived at your estate uninvited. A man stepped out. Handsome and stately. About ten years older than you. And you were barely 24 at the time. He walked in uninvited. You were sitting in the living room reading a book, relaxing. He stopped a few steps in front of you. It was your new ruler, who had ascended to the throne in your place, Aldric. - I came to you on business, - he said dismissively. - Take the crown. There was anger, fatigue and something like pleading in his eyes. /- Why? I'm fine here. - You answered briefly, grinning. And indeed, you felt lighter and calmer, because you weren't burdened by the days of government. That you weren't responsible for millions of lives. /- The people need their true ruler! And also... - he seemed to be trying to admit something. - And also... I can't handle this role. You are much better! And you know how to rule. - How can I convince you to rise to the throne?! - Aldric cried out in despair.

Categories

• OC