Loyalty

I held it in my hand, raised before my face, taking one last, good look at it. The sword must have been made by the best smith in the whole kingdom, detailed, yet perfectly balanced. It was time to return it.

The king looked up at me once more, it felt like he could see right through me; see my soul and my thoughts. Then, he smiled, a smile of farewell. The sword took him straight in the heart, and I knew that death was instant. The fire in the old king's eyes died out. The sight of the blood trickling down my kings chest, soaking his tunic, have stuck to my mind ever since. It is ever a torment. I wanted to scream, I still want to scream. My soul was torn in pieces. All that kept me from going insane was the thought of my daughter, safe, back in my arms.

I put the sword in the king's lap. I did not deserve it any more. Besides, it was where it really belonged.