monarch

Philip II woke up in the darkness. He felt his throat was on fire, as if someone had poured half a bottle of acid into it.

He stretched out one arm and groped for the bedside table, trying to find the bottle of clear water that was always there in his memory, but found nothing.

Philip frowned in dissatisfaction. He opened a gap in the curtains of the bed, and called out to the servant who was lying under his bed to watch the night.

No one answered, and the king realized that there was no one in the room but himself.

What happened?Philip's head was drowsy due to fever, and everything seemed to be wrapped in a cloud of white mist. Where did the servant go?Why is the whole palace as quiet as a tomb?

King Philip took hold of the bell-rope that hung above the bedpost, and tugged.He felt as if he was in a vast ocean, the bed under him was a swaying boat, and the surroundings were boundless darkness.He put all his strength on that rope, as if a shipwrecked victim would not let go of the life-saving rope.

He waited for 1 minute, and then waited for 1 minute. Normally, a servant would open the door of the room less than 20 seconds after he rang the bell, but he waited for almost 5 minutes, and the door still seemed to be frozen. It stayed the same, without any movement.

He tried hard to sit up, but his arms were as weak as noodles, and he kept shaking, completely ignoring the control of his brain. He sat up halfway with difficulty, and then his arms went limp, and he lay down on the bed again .

When the king was about to start shouting in disregard of etiquette and decency, there were finally long-lost footsteps outside the door.

The door was pushed open, and with the light coming from outside, Philip saw a figure walking into the room. The man was not too tall, and he was holding a tray in his hand.For some reason, this figure looked inexplicably familiar, which made Philip a little uneasy.

"What's the matter? Why is there no watchman in my room?" asked the King, turning to the one who had entered.

However, the man did not intend to answer at all. He put the tray on the coffee table by the door, took out the flint from his pocket, and lit the oil lamp that had been extinguished there.

He turned and Philip II recognized the pale face of his son.

No explanation was needed, the King of Spain understood everything.

"What have you done?" His voice was frightened and angry, "You are so brave."

"The thing has been done." Don Carlos picked up the tray again, "It's a done deal, please keep some decency."

He walked over to the bed with the tray and put the tray on the bedside table, ignoring Philip's glare.

On the tray were a bottle of clean water and a glass. Don Carlos picked up the water bottle and filled the glass with half a glass of water.

He picked up the cup and approached Philip II.

"Did you ring the bell to send water?" Don Carlos' eyes seemed to be elongated, and his thin lips were hooked upwards, showing a complacent look. He looked at his father's eyes Like a cat looking at a canary in its paws.

Philip II's eyes were wide open, and he clenched his teeth tightly, not intending to drink the suspicious glass of water at all.

The smile on Don Carlos' face gradually turned cold, and the elongated eyes returned to their original shape.

He lowered his head, and from an angle that Philip couldn't see, there was a cold sneer.

Suddenly, the crown prince flicked his wrist and splashed all the water in the glass on Philip II's face.

"I gave you a decent chance." Don Carlos looked at his father's face with a mixture of astonishment, anger and humiliation with satisfaction, "Why didn't you take it?"

The king squeezed his eyes to let the water run down from the eyelids, and the blood rushed to his head, making his face flush.

"How could I give birth to a monster like you!" If the gaze had a physical existence, then Don Carlos would have been torn to pieces by the two lights in the king's eyes.

"You have to ask yourself." Don Carlos finally became happy. He was like a scavenger that feeds on corpses. The more painful and angry others were, the happier he was.

"You are so pious, so conscientious, you are a perfect moral example, but why doesn't God bless you?" The crown prince became more and more excited, "Why doesn't he give you victory? Why doesn't he give you the one you want?" the kind of son?"

Philip II stared blankly at Don Carlos, his mouth opened slightly, and then closed again.

"It seems that you understand." Don Carlos picked up the water bottle again and filled the glass with water, "You call yourself 'the most devout Catholic king', but God doesn't like you, God curses you, even though you read No amount of rosaries can win his favor!"

"Then you think God will favor you as a monster? Not only did you commit all kinds of evil deeds before, but now you have to kill the king and father! You have to follow the old path of Nero and Caligula, and you will get the same rewards as them in the future." fate!"

"If he doesn't favor me, why did he let my coup succeed?" Don Carlos held the water glass, the liquid in the glass was shaking like a pond in a windy day, "Maybe God is as cruel as me, As vicious as I am, even more corrupt than I am. So he appreciates me, so he supports me, so I am the sword of God!"

Philip II took a breath in horror, "It's appalling! How dare you say such cursed words! Do you think your coup was successful? You only controlled a palace, and you are far from controlling the entire country!"

"It's not that far." The prince yawned, "I am the legal heir to the throne, and my succession to the throne is much more legitimate than my illegitimate uncle Don Juan and the Duke of Alva you favor! "

"What does this mean?" Philip II tried to remain calm, but his calm mask had begun to crack, "What did you do to them?"

"I added something to my dear uncle's nightcap." Don Carlos' voice became extremely calm now, "painless, sweet and quick, just like falling asleep ...I have prepared the same good things for you."

He shook the cup in his hand.

"As for the Duke of Alva, he is still alive, but I'm afraid he won't live for too long." Prince Don Carlos sighed artificially, "You must understand that I can't keep him. If you let him be the regent, then it is signed his death sentence. He is an able minister, which means he could be a formidable enemy."

"No, no, don't do this." Philip II finally showed a flustered look on his face, "He is the only one who can save Spain... The country has become a powder keg, if you kill him, It just lit the fuse."

"He can indeed save Spain, but only if he steps on my head." The expression on Don Carlos' face was as contented as Nero was when he watched the fire in Rome, "If Spain cannot belong to me, then she will Worthless to me. Let her be reduced to ashes than to hand over the kingdom!"

The king collapsed on the bed in frustration.

"Now, drink." Don Carlos brought the cup to the king's mouth again.

Philip II still kept his mouth shut.

The prince sighed in disappointment and put the cup back on the bedside table.

"It's really troublesome." He looked around, his eyes fixed on a snow-white pillow.

Don Carlos picked up the pillow, and Philip II was already unable to move. He watched the snow-white pillow getting closer and closer to his face, until his whole world fell into a ball of snow-white.

……

When Duke Alva walked out of the door of the mansion, the carriage was ready for him.

A quarter of an hour ago, a messenger came from the Royal Castle. The Duke was awakened from his sleep. The messenger informed him that His Majesty's condition was rapidly deteriorating, and he was invited to enter the palace immediately.

Hearing this news, Duke Alva was a little surprised at first. After all, although His Majesty seemed to be in a bad condition a few hours ago, it was not at the critical level. Now it has only been half a night, how could it have deteriorated to this point?But then he thought of King Philip's ashen complexion, which was like the ashes left after the fireplace went out. It seemed that His Majesty had already run out of gas, and he just braced himself to explain the funeral to him in the afternoon.

The Duke ordered the carriages to be prepared to enter the palace, but a quarter of an hour later, the carriages were already driving on the dark streets.

Duke Alva lowered the window down and opened a gap to let the outside wind blow into the stuffy compartment.He felt that the whole world was rushing towards him, and he was like a silkworm who was spinning silk, trapped in the cocoon he spun.

"Regent." He savored this weighty word lightly. He never wanted to be a regent, and he never sought this position.How many people in this position in history died well?He is in the same boat as the new king, and has no blood ties with the royal family. Once he becomes regent, he will become the target of public criticism.

But what choice does he have?Leave everything here and go back to the Netherlands?He couldn't imagine how disappointed His Majesty's eyes would be if he did this... and Emperor Charles V of the Heavenly Kingdom, he would never let down the late Emperor's Long En.Besides, what cowardice and crime it would be to leave the kingdom of Spain to a crowd of lunatics and buffoons!

The Duke of Alva has made up his mind that he will accept the position of regent. If Prince Don Carlos is not peaceful, then put him under house arrest in a certain castle. As long as he gives birth to an heir, let him go in that castle. Live his absurd life.

Now that he had made up his mind, Duke Alva became much calmer, and the friction sound of the wheels of the carriage and the stones on the road was no longer as harsh as before.The days ahead are bound to be turbulent, and enemies at home and abroad will be eyeing him, but he is confident that he has the ability to steer the Spanish ship, which is riddled with holes, through the storm and into a safe haven with calm waters.When the ship sets sail again, it will embark on a journey with a brand new look.

Duke Alva looked out the window again, the dark shadow of the Royal Castle was in front of him, the carriage drove into the gate of the courtyard, and the gate was closed immediately as soon as the carriage passed.

The carriage stopped at the entrance of the castle, and several people in livery came out from the darkness, one of them grabbed the lead of the two horses pulling the carriage, and several others formed a circle around the carriage station, surrounding the carriage up.

When Duke Alva got out of the car, he noticed that those people lowered their heads when they saw him, but they kept glancing at the Duke from the corner of their eyes.

The Duke felt his heart beat a beat slower, something was wrong, he thought.

The steward of the court came out of the hall again, he was like a puppet being manipulated by a rope, a walking corpse.The fat on his face drooped downwards, and a few thin hairs were wet with sweat and stuck to his scalp, like a few kelp washed up on the beach by the sea.

Could it be that the king's illness has dealt him such a blow?The Duke of Alva looked suspiciously at the steward of the court who was approaching him, and he noticed that the steward's footsteps were sloppy, like that of a drunken man.

"My lord." The steward smiled reluctantly, "Your Majesty has been waiting for you for a long time."

Duke Alva looked up to the upstairs, only a few windows leaked a little faint light, if His Majesty was seriously ill, the whole palace would wake up from sleep.

He looked at the few people dressed as servants, they were surrounding him, everyone had their hands on their waists, and the Duke's sharp eyes could vaguely see the outline of the dagger from under the clothes.

Duke Alva laughed softly, he understood everything.

He raised his head, looked proudly at the chief of the palace, as if he was reviewing the army before going out, and said loudly in a loud voice:

"Then we shouldn't keep the king waiting!"

Since God wants to punish Spain, "may the will of the Lord be done on earth as it is in heaven", this country is corrupt and depraved, claiming to be the kingdom of God, but doing barbaric things in the name of God, he is just a mortal, how can he Against the will of God!

His only consolation was that when he exited the stage, at least he walked through the curtain with his head held high.

The Duke of Alva strode into the hall, his senses had never been so sharp as today, he could see the venomous snakes lurking in the shadows of the pillars and the cloister, he could see clearly, the swords at their waists collided lightly Then, with his hand on the hilt of his sword, the blade will be unsheathed at one command.

The steward led the Duke of Alva up the stairs that he walked in during the day, and came to the empty corridor. It seemed that they were the only two people left in the whole palace.In the silence, the footsteps of the two people bounced up and down between the floor and ceiling like drummers beating on the battlefield, making the court steward break out in a cold sweat.

The two came to the door of the king's suite, where there were still two guards standing guard. When Duke Alva arrived, they pretended not to care, but the beating blood vessels on the temples could be seen clearly even under the dim oil lamp Chu.

"Please forgive me, I can only accompany you here." The court steward took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the cold sweat dripping from his bald head. "Your Majesty is waiting for you inside."

"Then, thank you for showing me the way." The Duke nodded and was about to enter the door.

"Please..." The palace steward timidly wanted to say something, but the two guards immediately gave him sharp warning eyes, and he stopped talking as if he had been strangled by the neck.

"I wish you good luck." After more than ten seconds, the manager said dejectedly. He looked ten years older in an instant.

Duke Alva patted him on the shoulder and walked into the room.

There was no one else in the king's bedroom, but the curtains of His Majesty's bed were drawn tightly, and a small oil lamp was burning on the bedside table, which was running out of oil.

He walked to the bed and opened the curtains.

A white cloth covered the face of the man lying on the bed, and he carefully reached out to remove the white cloth.

Philip II lay peacefully, as if he had fallen asleep, with some water stains on the collar of his pajamas.

The Duke of Alva knelt down on one knee and held up King Philip's hand. He wanted to kiss the power ring on the king's finger, but the ring had disappeared, so he could only kiss the back of the king's hand.

The school door leading to the king's study on the other side of the bedroom was suddenly pushed open, and a group of people with torches rushed into the bedroom. The bright fire made Duke Alva blindfolded.

He blinked, stood up, and recognized several familiar faces he had seen around Prince Don Carlos. They held a torch in one hand and a dagger in the other. The cold light was brighter than the light of the torch.

"God forgive you," he murmured in a voice only he could hear. "God forgive Spain."

Those holding daggers glanced at each other, someone made a gesture, and like a pack of preying wolves, they rushed towards Duke Alva.

The dagger pierced into the body, making a dull sound like hitting a pillow with a fist.Blood dripped on the carpet, on the walls, and on the murderers.

Duke Alva fell down, his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, and the light in his pupils gradually went out.Memories flowed through his mind like a torrent of water. The water volume of this river became smaller and smaller, and finally dried up completely.

Prince Don Carlos came in from the door just now, his face was mixed with excitement, apprehension, and a trace of lingering fear.

He walked up to Duke Alva's body, and lowered his head to observe the countless wounds on the Duke's body. Blood was pouring out from every wound, and the clothes on the Duke's body were all stained red.

The prince stretched out one foot and stepped on Duke Alva's chest. He stepped down hard with his toes, as if to confirm that the person lying on the ground was completely dead.The people around were also holding their daggers vigilantly, as if they were afraid that the Duke would suddenly sit up and send these murderers to hell with their own hands.

The body was motionless, nothing happened, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Prince Don Carlos looked mockingly at the Duke of Alva on the ground. He defeated his enemies, and from now on, no one can stop his will.

"I'm the real king now!" he exclaimed excitedly.