The heartless king
Long ago, in the kingdom of Elkar, surrounded through icy mountains and stormy seas, there dominated a man feared by way of all—King Rollins the Cruel.
Rollins was once now not constantly heartless. He had as soon as been a completely happy prince, cherished through the humans and regarded for his kindness. But the whole lot modified the day his youthful brother, Prince Lior, was once killed in the course of a failed rebellion. Though Lior had nothing to do with the treason, he was once accused and performed by way of order of the royal council. Rollins begged for his existence to be spared—but no one listened.
From that day, some thing interior Rollins died.
When he grew to be king, he vowed in no way to experience weak spot again. To him, kindness was once a vulnerability, and love—a weapon others ought to use. So, he dominated with fear.
He raised taxes so excessive that farmers starved. He outlawed gatherings, silenced priests, and finished everybody who spoke in opposition to the throne. Children grew up hearing, “Don’t cry too loud—King Rollins may hear.”
In his castle, the partitions have been cold, the halls silent, and no laughter used to be allowed. Servants had been forbidden to seem to be him in the eye. Even his personal advisors trembled earlier than him.
The human beings known as him “The King Without a Heart.”
One winter, a bizarre aspect happened.
A younger woman named Elira, simply fourteen, entered the palace uninvited. She had crossed the frozen river barefoot, carrying nothing however a loaf of stale bread and a letter. Guards tried to quit her, however she regarded them in the eyes and said, “I have a message for the king.”
They added her earlier than Rollins.
He stared at the small, shivering woman and barked, “Speak, or lose your tongue.”
Elira bowed and said, “My mom died due to the fact of your tax. My brother used to be taken to your mines. My village has no food. But I am now not right here to beg. I got here to inform you what you’ve become.”
Gasps echoed via the throne room. No one had spoken to the king that way in years.
Rollins rose from his throne, his hand on his sword. But the woman stood firm.
“You suppose worry makes you strong,” she continued. “But it solely suggests you’re afraid—afraid to experience again, afraid to lose again. My mom instructed me a story of a variety prince named Rollins. I got here to see if he nonetheless lives.”
Something cracked in the king’s face. A flicker of memory. A title he hadn’t heard in years. Lior.
He sat down slowly.
“Leave,” he said. “Before I exchange my mind.”
Elira grew to become and walked away except bowing. That night, the fortress was once silent—but Rollins ought to no longer sleep.
The subsequent morning, some thing unthinkable happened.
The king decreased taxes. He launched harmless prisoners. He visited the mines and closed the worst of them. Slowly, the kingdom started out to breathe again.
People have been confused. Was it a trick?
But modifications saved coming. A royal decree ordered meals materials to villages, and colleges had been reopened. For the first time in years, daylight poured thru the fortress windows, and laughter again to the gardens.
Rollins in no way grew to become warm. He used to be nonetheless strict, nevertheless stern—but some thing had changed.
He saved Elira’s letter in a wood field beside his throne. On it have been scribbled the remaining phrases she had written:
“You are no longer heartless. You are hurting. Let the kingdom heal—and heal with it.”
Years later, when Rollins died, he was once no longer known as The Heartless King. Instead, they referred to as him The Broken King Who Chose to Mend.
And on his tombstone, a easy inscription used to be written:
“Even a bloodless coronary heart can beat again—if braveness dares to communicate truth.”
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