The Prisoner

It was eight o'clock in the evening. I decided to end the day there and sleep through the night. I reached a 4 star hotel on my horse which I manoeuvred perfectly thanks to the training I had received as a prince. I was being careful to avoid any high end resorts to prevent being spotted as a noble or targeted by a large crowd. This way I wouldn't need to use my family name. Family names essentially help people recognise your noble status. From the lowest to the highest, the ranks are distributed as Barons/Baroness , Viscount/Viscountess , Earl/Countess and Duke/Duchess. The highest of all nobility, of course being the King or the Queen. The right to second names (surnames) was only shared by people of noble blood. However, if any man was to falsely speak taking a noble family's name, death wouldn't be the worst that would happen. Thus, I moved on to the Charlot Inn, prestigious for harbouring adventurers.

I parked my horse outside of the large lobby for the valet to bring it to the stable and walked in the hotel meeting the receptionist. As I stood in front of her table, the receptionist spoke as she did with all commoners who stood before her, "Hello sir. How may I help you?" The receptionist had long blonde hair, blue eyes and freckles across her beautiful face. She had a slender body with a voluptuous bosom. As I blushed I spoke, "Ahem. I would like a single room and dinner served in my chambers." She replied saying, "Is there anything you would prefer for dinner?" I controlled myself from acting vulgar and said, "You....Would you please bring a medium rare steak and a bottle of red wine, the finest that you have." She covered her chin with her hand and said, "My. My. Surely sir. That would be 12 gold and 5 silvers." At the time I only had a bundle of gold coins and thus replied, "You make take 13 gold for the time being as I may require more of your service in the future." She blushed and complied with my words (words she assumed to be of a nobleman). I walked up stairs to the room I was allotted by the receptionist and waited for my meal to arrive. I ate the meagre (in taste) yet appetising steak and went to sleep.

The next day as I woke up, I decided to take a stroll to make notice of the latest news. As I walked into the lobby at six in the morning, I saw a 'wanted' poster freshly prepared. On a closer inspection I saw a man perfectly drawn with a full beard, fierce black eyes and long brown hair. "Alas! The doomsday has come! My own subjects have now truly denounced my name!" I went on to read the information below the drawing. It was written, 'Wanted Dead. An escaped prisoner. 5000000 gold coins.' I laughed, fuelled with anger as I understood this gesture. This was a coup against my rule. I assumed that this was all done to overthrow me as king and make my long lost friend (in terms of friendship and endeavours) the king. By killing me, a king who had never showed his face to the public, they would be able to use my name to their will. My 'friend' would be able to use my name and have a kingdom at his disposal. But to do so, it was necessary to kill me outside of the palace to avoid any suspicions of the proceedings and to begin the making of a fake king.

I laughed at the joke I was seeing in front of me, for two peaceful minutes. The joke, that was on me.