Sir Alfred F. Jones 3

         Night had fallen quickly, and the two lovers had made their escape. Both covered by cloaks, they ran through the town with ease. Back at the palace, the kind sulked. His only son, how could he say such a thing about another male?? It was preposterous!

        "Arthur… why were you so persistent…?" The mighty rules pondered, recalling such a few hours back.

        "That is unacceptable!!" The old man's past self exclaimed, rage and confusion clear on his face as he looked at his son's cool expression. If this was a joke, he was defiantly not amused. The hall was silent, all eyes on father, son, and hero.  As the king slumped in his throne, he had the hall cleared, and the knight, gone.  "Arthur, to your room." The boy stood with his arms crossed, a glare in his father's direction. "Or I will have the guards escort you." He threatened.