The King’s Departure

Courtesty of Yolanda @ pixabay.com

“It’s time for you to leave, Your Majetsy.”

The monarch fluttered his great orange wings indignantly. “Excuse me?”

“I said that it’s time for you to leave, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes. Of course. It must be time for my daily flight around the flowers. Is that why you’ve come to me?”

“No, Your Highness.”

The monarch fluttered his great orange wings even more indignantly than the first time. “Well, then, I’m afraid that we have no idea what you are talking about, Sir Swallowtail.”

“I did not expect you to, Your Majesty.”

“Might I ask what this is all about?”

“Everything, Your Majesty. The nectar hoarding. The flower contaminating. The world on the bring of turning into a ball of flame at any second due to temperatures rising — ”

“Are you suggesting that I must be ousted from my position as king?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Then you are wrong to think that I shall give it to you, my hardy, noble friend.”

“And you are wrong to think I would take it from you.”

In seconds, hundreds of thousands of the queen’s soldiers swarmed the red rose on which the monarch sat upon as Sir Swallowtail watched. The clear blood of his former ruler dripped along its petals, and with a sigh he thought to himself a sad and quiet thought:

Order has returned.


Inspired from this tweet.

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