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The Fourth Son

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Breakfast is supposed to be that first meal of the day, the one that sets you up for at least the morning.

If you can, get to sit down and relax.

If you don’t have a thousand thoughts running through your head, and none of them are good.

He is surprised to find that no one thought it a good idea to have the two brothers and the king autopsied.

He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but if there’s something, anything, the least of it would be for it to blow up in his face.

There were rumours, rumours he’d rather not hear, that his father had been acting strangely and making life difficult for everyone, which to a certain degree was how he generally was.

But….

Is it possible he may have recovered from dual heart attacks, or had he been sedated with an overdose of morphine?  Was it mercy that he died?  It was not what he wanted to think. In fact, it was the last thing he needed.

Those reports he received when he was back in America over that last year as his health declined and the old king was getting more and more despaired at the idea of Edward succeeding him, causing him to hang on longer than he should, were hard to read but not hard to understand.

It was the reason the new king believed, why the old king insisted on his return.

It would be good to discover what the old King’s motivation was, but now he was dead, perhaps they would never find out.