Like magic Methnik’s sword passed through that of his foes….All too late, the blade was at his neck, it burnt, stinging like acid, it slivered through skin and muscle. Methnik crumpled to his knees, then to the floor, his eyes greyed over and he heard faint words, maybe those of his foe? "Your last lesson in this life. Your teacher? A Serivemn"
‘To the victor goes the spoils’ it is said but what if those spoils are not what they seem. What if those items of victory, are deadly.
Once a year, the king steps down from his throne, and lives as a peasant for one day, the next day is the anniversary of his coronation, and it is celebrated by a reenactment of the ceremony. This is doubly beneficial, firstly, because the people are able to have the grand parade that always precedes the ceremony. Secondly, because the heir to the throne is given a day on the job every year. Although, apparently, the thought has not yet come to one of the kingdoms enemies, the assassination of the king during the renewal coronation would be a moral, as well as a political blow to the kingdom.