The coronation ceremonies and feasting were over and the streets deserted. The nobles and the clergy had returned to their palaces, the serfs to their hovels.
But all was not still.
The new king, at fifteen the youngest in Europe, had been having a busy afternoon.
“No need to waste time,” he’d said. “Let’s get on with the game.”
And so within hours he had arranged the execution of his two half-brothers, both pretenders to the throne, ordered the construction of the world’s largest roller-coaster in the palace grounds, and reintroduced the custom of jus primae noctis.
Ah, happy days.