The Foolish King

‘Justice is best served within two years. After this, whatever crime committed, it will be forgiven.’

‘Sire, we beseech you to reconsider.’

‘Nay,’ cried the king. ‘The fallen ones, whoever they may be, will be hunted like animals until they are caught, killed, or survive.’ He enthusiastically pressed his seal into the molten wax. ‘Begone,’ he said, waving his hand impatiently.

Later he demanded to see Margaret.

‘Your majesty, I’m afraid the queen is otherwise occupied.’

‘What is she doing?’

‘Being hunted, Sire.’

‘Her crime?’

‘For pinching an apple from the kitchen for you, Sire.’

‘Oh dear,’ sighed the king.

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