“Your majesty,” the exasperated court Judge and serjeants whined. “Please reconsider!”

“Tis is most blasphemous!”

“This will cause moral unrest among your people!”

“By His word, marriage-”

Massaging his temples for the last time since the three hour meeting started the King raised his right hand up to the height of his shoulder and waited for the constant shouting to die down. When every court official and deacon fell silent did the King rest his hand upon the table.

“We have poured over the laws, the holy text at present yet I have failed to see a legal reason for my law to be blocked from ratification. I have heard your concerns and the moral quandary this law may present however, I am bound by an absolute doctrine that was writ before anyone of us came into being. Never before has the royal promise been withheld or broken and it shall not start with me. Thus, this is what I propose.”

The Deacon opened his mouth to protest once more but the unwelcoming glare of the frustrated monarch gave him second thoughts.

“They, the Executioner and his “bride” are the only men in the kingdom who need to be wedded. In two years time they shall be brought before the court and their marriage be thoroughly evaluated. Should it be determined that their relationship be unhealthy for both of them then their marriage shall be formally annulled, although only if both parties agree to divorce one another. But first, they must be wed. Now, Lord Blight has brought to my attention an idea drafted by himself and one Executioner Pike. We can all agree that Royal has a less than favorable reputation, thus to ask an innocent is comparable to insult. Therefore, such a person can only be quelled by a cur his equal. As we speak, Blight has been researching prisoners who have the potential, and the mettle, to placate Royal. His qualifications for a mate were ‘any man, or woman’ and that stock matters little to him. Prisoners are the lowest stock there is. Any prisoner deemed sufficient enough after interrogation will be offered full amnesty in exchange, but only if they can stay wed to Royal for two years.”

The King refreshed his parched throat with the goblet of watered down wine before him.

“My liege, if I may,” the court Judge spoke. “What actions will be taken in the event that the “bride” fail to fulfill their marital duties? And what punishments will be implemented should the “bride” regress to their former illegal habits?”

“They will be publicly dispatched for making a mockery of the Royal promise,” the King ordered, his voice nearly cracking with overuse. “It shall not be by Royal’s hands, but it shall be immediate and swift. I expect the final draft to be completed, and signed, before their wedding day is finalized. Please excuse me; I must retire to my chambers.”

The King let out a light grunt as his knees popped as he came to a stand. “I expect the document to be presented within a fortnight.”

“Your majesty that is-”

“Within a fortnight or I shall have you draft it before me until it is practically poetry. Is that understood?!”

The Deacon swallowed his rebuttal. “Yes your Majesty.”

“How could we not have foreseen this?!” the Deacon seethed; trembling he slammed his goblet down splashing wine on lace of his pale cuffs.

“That man will become a walking beacon of depravity! To think he would sink the kingdom down to his level-it’s unforgivable! Heavens above, no enemy will fear our glorious victory against the North. Our beautiful nation of masterful tacticians, plentiful land and rivers is now nursing the seeds of hedonism!”

Silent the Judge drank across from his fuming associate, refilled his glass, then drained it once more before the Deacon calmed enough to end his tirade.

“Forgive me old friend, but as you are bound by His law I am bound to the word of his majesty. At first, I believed the King was misguided by the influence of the...Queen and her ‘ideals’,” he spoke with a subdued fury that nearly caused him to speak with excessive candor. He breathed deeply. “Now I think he’s been overcome with madness-”

“And now?” the Deacon cut in.

“That the old King is surely looking down upon his son with shame and renouncing him for sullying our history. The sons of our sons shall be forced to learn of this great stain upon our nation and it shall be forever written, in tapestry, in blood, upon stone that the Honorable Judge Quill let it be so.”

“Certainly you can work around this. There has to be a legal route-is there truly nothing?”

“I spent three,” Judge Quill waved three fingers then let his hand fall back to the table top. “Three nights scouring the records before the Head Scholar uncovered the original document transcribed from the era of the second King. Apparently, this law has been passed down from King to King and has only, on record, come into effect twice. Tis more of an heirloom than a law, but a law all the same.”

The last of the wine, a mere quarter of a glass, was poured in to Quill’s glass where is rested for several seconds until he emptied it boorishly down his throat.