He looked down on his subjects. Yes, that's right. They were his. Not some bastard's. He watched as they paid him tribute.

He had waited his entire life for this and for a moment it had almost been taken from him. He had felt his throne slip from his fingers but thankfully that threat had been eradicated.

Now he had his throne again all to himself.

"Your Grace," came a voice from behind him.

He turned, his cape trailing behind him and giving him the look of magnificence.

The cape was a rich purple. Together with the tunic with gold thread embroidery he wore underneath. Every part of his ensemble accentuated his crown of gold beautifully.

Madame Brutollë had made sure of that. She had made sure he was clothed grandly for his coronation. The memory made him smile a little. The stout woman had been nervous all the days he had her prepare him for this day. She would always work, fingers shaking, shoulders tense as she feared being caught.

Because if it had ever been discovered that she was secretly preparing Miraz for a coronation that had not meant to be his she would have been executed for treason. They all would have been.

Thankfully he had handled that well. All that was left was to weed out the remainder of the bastard's supporters.

He had not even allowed them to mourn the bastard. Why would he let them? He was the true king of Atlantis and having them mourn the boy would have been nothing less than disrespect.

"Your Grace, we still haven't received any response from our allies. Of course, Queen Tianna has sent a gift for you but Venetia and Assar seem to have shut us off." his advisor continued.

"Atlantis has been a good friend to these sister kingdoms for a very long time. Surely they have not forgotten this." He said with an annoyed expression.

"Yes, well..." The advisor began.

Miraz looked at him expectantly.

"Well? Spit it out already, I don't have all day!" He spat.

"Well, Queen Nymeria wrote in her letter that Venetia will only deal with the true king of Atlantis and not you - the er the usurper as she calls you." The advisor.

"I AM the true king of Atlantis!" Miraz said in anger. "Who does that silver haired bitch think she is?"

"Technically she's..." The advisor began but Miraz silenced him with a backslap.

"I didn't ask you for an opinion!" He snapped.

"Forgive me, your Grace." The advisor said with a shaky voice as he rubbed his sore cheek.

"Tch. Get him out of my sight." Miraz said to his guards.

The advisor whimpered in fear but could do nothing but plead for mercy as he was dragged away.

Lord Brutollë smiled as he watched all this.

"You cannot have everyone who annoys you dragged off to gods know where, your Grace." He said.

"Did you want something, Hans?" He asked in annoyance.

"My scouts have returned." Brutollë said grimly.

"And?" Miraz asked curiously.

When the assassins they had sent failed to return he had been worried. At first he had thought that the boy had gotten away. If that had been the case then everything would have been ruined. All of them would have been executed for treason and all would have been lost.

As long as the boy remained alive his claim to the throne would be weakened. Challenged even. As long as he was out there somewhere then the elf Queen would not be the only one to call him a usurper.

"We recovered the bodies of the deceased. Including the lords that went with him that day." Lord Brutollë said. "However, our men were also found. Their bodies burnt to a crisp but there was no sign of the boy. It was quite strange really. I can't think of any weapon that could have done that to the men."

"So all your work  did was to achieve nothing." Miraz said with a grunt.

"Patience, my King." Brutollë said. "If the bastard still lives he will be found."

"That's right." Lord Vern piped in. "Besides, he has no gold, no resources and certainly no allies."

"Did you miss the part where he was practically smooching the young Queen of Venetia." Brutollë said with a snicker. "She could be canoodling with him now for all we know."

"Silence, both of you!" Miraz snapped. "I need to think. Leave me."

"As you wish your Grace." They both said as they bowed and left.

But as Lord Vern left, Lord Brutollë stopped and turned.

"If I may your Grace. I have a proposal of sorts." Brutollë said with a secret smile.

This caused Miraz to raise an eyebrow at him.

"I know you and the young prince of Assar are on speaking terms." Brutollë went on.

"And?" Miraz asked curiously.

"Well there have been talk amongst his people, and the people of Venetia, that he would make an excellent consort for the Silver Queen." Brutollë said. "Perhaps if we helped him in this accord he would be indebted to you. Plus, Venetia would have no more quarrel with you."

"Yes well, for that to happen he would have to become Matador." Miraz pointed out. "From what I hear Lord Salazar is a very healthy and robust ruler."

"We can help prince Valerio in that accord as well." Brutollë said with a cunning smile.

"Aren't we the clever one." Miraz said with a wicked grin. "I shall bring this suggestion to the young prince. If he is any bit as clever as you think he his I'm certain he would be grateful for our help."

At this, Brutollë bowed in respect, a look of satisfaction plastered on his face before he turned and went on his way.

This left Miraz all on his own.

He turned back to look down on his kingdom. It was hard now to bask in its glory with this news he had received. This was not how things were supposed to go. His brother's bastard should have been dead.

Well, of course it had not yet been confirmed that the boy was still alive however he would not rest easy until he saw his corpse. Better yet his head.

He decided to go rest in his chambers whilst he waited for his dinner there. As he passed through the walls he could not help notice the looks of discontent some of the servants gave him.

He only looked back at them in challenge. Daring them to speak up but they immediately looked away. He would have had them rounded up and roughed up a bit bit he decided not to cause a scene. He would deal with the rebellious lot soon enough.

His mood soured even more when he realised that his supper had not yet been delivered to his chambers. 

"Are all of you incompetent?!?!" He barked at the kitchen staff.

"N - no your Grace," the head Cook stammered.

"Then you're utterly useless to me." Miraz snapped. "Guards, find me a new kitchen staff."

At this command they all looked at him fearfully.

"Please, your Grace. It was merely an error." The head Cook pleaded.

"And I don't care!" Miraz spat. "Throw them in the dungeon. The insolent lot."

The guards wasted no time carrying out his commands. They began to drag away each and everyone of them. Including the little girls and boys who had been born and bred to become cooks and kitchen helpers. Young ones of not more than ten summers old.

However, word travelled quickly even in such a large palace. By the time the guards made it to the staircase that would take them down to the dungeon, they found a whole crowd of servants gathered and blocking their way.

The gathered crowd was armed with daggers, slings and pitchforks. Their ring leader, an older man who had served his entire life as a builder pointed his pitchfork towards the guards in a threatening stance.

"Unhand them!" He said.

"We are carrying out his Majesty the King's orders." The head of the King's guard, Sir Wilby, said. "Dare you interfere?!"

"Miraz is no king to us." The builder said boldly. "And when the King returns, you lot will have to explain why you are going about imprisoning children!"

There was a chorus of agreement from those around him. This caused Sir Wilby to smile darkly at him.

"If you won't get out of our way, then we'll just have to go through you." He said, his voice laced with venom.

He unsheathed his sword as he advanced to attack. A battle soon followed although it was less off a battle and more of a massacre as the King's guard plowed through the crowd. They showed no mercy as they butchered everyone of the rebels.

When it was all done, only one of the guards was gravely injured whereas all the rebellious servants had been slaughtered.