The prince stood like a statue, his eyes fallen upon the usurper’s corpse. His red tipped sword dripped upon the stones while under the lifeless body a spreading pool of the same crimson blood welled. At times, the prince was heard to utter a groan, but he did not move.
I touched his shoulder, and his head slowly rose to meet my eyes. He smiled his pearly teeth a second at the sight of my face.
“He’s dead,” he mumbled as a dreamer speaks from slumber.
“He’s dead,” I repeated.
“I killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Me.”
“It was your duty, sir.”
Tale Told 