The Mad Queen

Chapter Forty-Three

I am standing in a garden. It is familiar. It takes a few moments for me to recognise it. It's my grandfather's garden. I am here again. A boy rushes past me being chased by another boy. I recognise the black hair of my father immediately. I also recognise the other child from before. Tristan, if I remember correctly. They are both slightly older. Eleven or Twelve.
"Master Matt!" Tristan shouts behind my father. They both stop, out of breath. My father sits down on the edge of the fountain and gently runs his hands through the water. Tristan sits down next to him. He lets out a little laugh as he splashes water over Matthias. Matthias lets out a laugh of his own before splashing the boy back. The two continue their water fight. Their clothes getting wetter and wetter and their shouts louder.
"Tristan!" a man shouts, rushing over to the little boy and grabbing him away quickly.
"I'm so sorry for my son's behaviour," he says, bowing to my father. My father smiles softly.
"No need to bow, gardener. We were just playing," he grins. The gardener is pale and he shakes slightly. He gulps.
"Please Master Matthias, accept my deepest apologies. Tristan will not act this way again," he quickly speaks before bowing again. My father frowns, confused. When the man doesn't get up, my father slowly speaks.
"You are forgiven?" he says like it is a question, unsure if that is what the man wants to hear or not. The man quickly stands.
"Thank you, young Master. You will make a fine lord or King one day," he rushes. "May I be excused, I have lots of work to be getting on with. I need Tristan to help too."
"But dad, I want to carry on playing with Matty," he replies. The man quickly throws a hand over his son's mouth.
"His name is Master Matthias to you," he growls angrily at his son as he pulls his arm.
"It's fine, you can both leave," Matthias sighs. He wants to play with his friend but he understands that they both have work to be getting on with. Tristan's father quickly drags him away, leaving my father standing alone. A few moments later, my grandfather appears. I shiver as his looming shadow covers my father's small body.
"Matthias," he growls. My father quickly turns around. Upon seeing his father, he looks to the ground quickly. Sebastian lets out a little, disgusted huff before turning and walking away.
"Come," he says. My father follows behind him quickly. They walk in silence for a few moments before my grandfather finally speaks, his cold blue eyes staring straight down at Matthias.
"Where you out here playing with the gardener's boy again?" he asks. My father looks down quickly.
"Yes, father," he whispers quickly. Sebastian let's out a low, disappointed sigh.
"What have I told you about that boy and his father?"
"That I am above them. That Tristan is not worthy of my time. That they have their own work to be doing and I have to train to be King," he replies quickly.
"So if you know my instructions, why do you keep disobeying them?" he asks.
"Father, I just want to play with my friend. I don't like training. I don't want to be King," he says quickly. Sebastian stops and looks down at the young boy.
"What did you just say?" he asks his voice full of venom. My father gulps, looking down at the floor with tears in his eyes.
"I..." he stops. "I know that the Queen has only had girls... I know you want me to be the King Chosen," he continues. "But I don't want to be the King..." his voice has turned into a whisper. There are a few moments of silence between the two. Sebastian's face has twisted into a nasty grimace. My father lets out a shriek as Sebastian grabs his arm roughly. He drags his son across the gardens and into the castle. He takes him down into the dungeons. I follow them quickly, not sure if I want to. My father is screaming and struggling in Sebastian's grip. The dungeon master looks at the two, confused.
"Get out," he growls to the man. He leaves quickly. Sebastian violently throws my father onto the ground in the dungeon. The boy lets out a scream of pain. Sebastian grabs a whip from the side and my eyes widen in horror. My father tries to escape, but my grandfather grabs his arm and pulls him up off the ground. He throws the boy against the wall where two chains hang from the ceiling. He locks my father's wrists in them. I shake as I watch the scene. My grandfather rips my father's shirt open. Before I can even process what I am seeing, my grandfather has snapped the whip across my father's back. My father lets out a horrific scream as the whip leaves red lines across his skin. I feel bile rise in my throat. He swings the whip again, my father's blood splattering over him.