Dudley the Terrible

Despite her indignation, Adelaide tried the witch’s plan, sans the tattered flag. She knew Dudley well enough to know how useless such an artifact would be in impressing him. That the court sorceress thought otherwise made Adelaide question her expertise.

The plan went as well as Adelaide expected. She pleaded with Dudley while he sat sampling an array of fine pastries and cakes brought from across the kingdom.

“Think of your subjects on the borders, Dudley! They are sitting ducks for the barbarian hordes.”

“That’s King Dudley to you.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Adelaide bit back her anger. Dudley was entitled to supreme arrogance and for what? A bit of extra flesh between his legs. It was absurd. “Please, King Dudley. Think of your subjects in the line of fire. Now is not a time for feasts and partying. You must prepare a war council!”

Dudley let out a protracted yawn and shoved a whole sticky honey cake into his mouth. He was utterly unimpressed.

“That sounds boring. Besides, it’s just a few barbarians. There have always been barbarians.”

“Not like this! Not in these numbers or with this organization,” then Adelaide added, “King Dudley.”

Before Dudley could respond with another dismissive shrug or sigh, a ragged man in tattered armor burst into the throne room, followed by a pair of armed guards.

“I have come to petition the king!” The man said. “Fort Markwell has fallen to the horde! They burned it to the ground. I’m the only survivor!”

Dudley cast a wrathful eye on the guards, “who let this dirty urchin into my throne room?”

“Please,” the man begged. “You must gather troops and prepare. A larger invasion is coming!”

“Dudley, listen to him!” Adelaide begged.

“King Dudley!” The boy king squawked. “I will not have rabble interrupting my precious time! Guards, put him in the dungeon!”

“Dudley…King Dudley, please don’t do this! This man is trying to tell you something of utmost importance. How can you punish him like this?”

Dudley turned all his rage on his sister.

“Do you want to join him, sister?”

Adelaide’s blood froze in her veins. This was a lime Dudley had not yet crossed. Underneath her horror, she felt a surge of impotent rage. Her miserable brother was going to let the kingdom burn and use the flames to bake more cakes.

“No, King Dudley. I’m sorry,” Adelaide turned to the bewildered survivor with tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”