How I Became the King of Sweden in 2050
Copyright© 2024 by Adam.F
Chapter 5
The Queen leaned back on her throne, steepling her fingers together as she considered William’s words. After a lengthy silence, she spoke again, her tone softer than before. “Very well, young man. You may stay at the palace for a week to get to know my daughters better. During that time, you will be tested in various ways to prove your worth. If you pass these tests, I will grant you my blessing to propose to them.”
With those words, the Queen dismissed William, leaving him feeling both elated and terrified at the prospect of winning the hearts of two of the most beautiful and sought-after women in the kingdom.
The palace steward appeared silently at William’s elbow, his polished boots whispering against marble floors as he guided the young suitor through vaulted corridors. Sunlight streamed through arched windows, catching dust motes dancing above suits of armor that seemed to watch their passage. William breathed in the scent of beeswax and stone, his pulse quickening when distant laughter echoed from a courtyard garden with a bright, musical sound that could only belong to the princesses.
He was shown to chambers grander than any he’d known: a canopy bed draped in midnight velvet, walls lined with leather-bound books, and a balcony overlooking the palace gardens where fountains sparkled like scattered diamonds. On the embroidered duvet lay two objects: a single white rose still beaded with morning dew, and a folded parchment sealed with crimson wax. William broke the seal with trembling fingers, scanning the elegant script: “The first test begins at sunset. Seek us where moonlight kisses water.
The scent of roasting game and honeyed pastries led William to the banquet hall that evening, but it was the princesses who stole his breath. Princess Victoria wore silver silk that flowed like liquid mercury, her dark eyes sharp as obsidian shards. Beside her, Princess Madeline glowed in dawn-pink chiffon; her smile warm yet guarded. Neither spoke to him directly, but Victoria’s fingers brushed him when passing the salt cellar—a touch like static—while Madeline deliberately spilled wine near his goblet, murmuring “Mind your step later” as servants rushed to clean it.
Sunset bled crimson across the palace gardens when William followed cryptic clues toward the lily pond. The air grew damp and cool, thick with the scent of wet earth and night blooming jasmine. Cicadas thrummed their evening chorus as he navigated gravel paths; his boots crunching softly beneath towering hedges. Moonlight silvered the water’s surface.
First test,” Hans announced, his voice cutting through the twilight stillness. He tossed him a coiled rope. “Madeline waits at the bottom of the old well near the north wall. Retrieve her favorite hairpin before the water rises.” Before William could question how water could rise in a dry well, Hans vanished into the shadows. Distant thunder rumbled, though the sky remained clear – an unnatural sound that raised hair on his neck.
The well’s mossy stones exuded a bitter, metallic tang as William rappelled down. Halfway, his lantern flickered wildly despite the windless air, casting grotesque shadows that slithered across the walls. His fingertips brushed strange carvings not decorative scrollwork, but frantic scratching a blade: dates, names, all repeating.
The deeper he descended, the warmer the air became, humming with something electric against his skin.
William’s boot finally hit water impossible; the well had been dried for decades, but the liquid burned cold through his leather soles. The submerged carvings pulsed faintly blue beneath the surface, illuminating skeletal fingers curled around Madeline’s hairpin, its pearl gleaming between bleached knuckles.