Chapter 37

Roman

Being king is a responsibility I'd never asked for, but one I was expected to embrace without question.

Lord Crawford went on and on about new duties and responsibilities, his words echoing hollowly in my head. My cousin, Brandon, sat beside me and as always he was writing down notes, acting like my personal brain.

It had been two days.

Two days since I'd lost my father, our king and everyone around me expected me to just pick up where he left off. Expected to lead a country, lead a royal funeral, and address my people—all while dealing with my own personal grief. The thought was suffocating.

My mother had given her own set of instructions. While everyone was allowed to sob, I was forced to keep my emotions in check, I couldn’t lose face in front of the ministers.

The same ministers that didn’t even want me on their throne.

‘The tears you had spilled at your father’s bedside. Those tears should be your last,’ She had said to me, and I listened.

I did what was necessary. I put on