Go to your father
From Create Your Own Story
You hand off the reins of your horse and head straight into the keep of the castle. You are followed by your personal detail; four soldiers, a standard bearer, and the Councillor who first met you at the gate. The sounds of your heavy mail boots echo through the chambers of the castle as you quickly pace down the hallway that leads to your father's grand bedroom.
The guards outside salute you, and you push through the door, leaving your personal detail outside. Within the room, your father lies in his large bed, covered with furs. He looks pale and sickly as a nurse and doctor attend him, using leaches to try and drain the sickness. When he sees you, he offers a faint smile.
"My son!" He exclaims, sitting up slowly. When the nurse attempts to stop him, he pushes her away. "Take your leeches, and both of you leave us. Now."
Once they're out the door, you take a seat at your father's bedside.
"What a hero you have become," he says. "Come closer, let me look upon your face." As you lean he, he reaches up and puts a hand against your cheek. "I am dying," he says softly. "There is no cure for old age, you see?" He chuckles, but the laughter turns to a thick cough, which he quickly gets control of. "You will have to sit upon my throne for now, until I am either dead or well again, and I doubt it will be the latter." You begin to speak, but he puts a finger over your lips. "No, no elegant speeches of love and loss, my son. You are a hero. The people will look to you to guide them through this most turbulent time. We have won the war, and we must rebuild now, make friends of old enemies, and see the kingdom strengthened. You must do this." He pauses a second to cough, covering his hand with a silk kerchief. "When I am dead, the high council will vote for the new king. It will either be you, or you sister. Your sister is older, more educated, but you are a hero and a great leader. Provided you can conduct yourself as royalty for the next few days, during the celebration festival for our victory, I believe the crown will pass to you."
"Father, I must say-"
"No," your father says, hushing you again. "There is nothing to say. I am proud of you. I love you as a son, and you love me as a father. That is where we stand. You will mourn when I pass. Until then, you must conduct yourself as the Adjunct King, until I am gone. You understand?"
You nod. He leans over and kisses your forehead. "Then go now, and seek out my advisor. He will tell you what you must do. Do not dally, either, or cavort about the castle chasing women as if they were the spoils of war."
You rise and nod again, quickly heading off with a tear in your eye. Outside the door, the Doctor takes your arm to pause you. "He has only five to six days," the doctor says. "Just so you know." You thank the doctor and head off.
