The prince grumbled on the floor as he swam in his black blood. The guards were stunned, didn't know what to do. He pulled the sword out from his chest, and the sword drifts from his wobbly hand, and jounced on the floor, puffing up his black blood, in the air.
One guard hurried outside and hastily summoned the King. The prince yelled, his eyes wore the color of fire as the King whiz inside with the guard.
"Who did this?" He hurried to his son and the blood immersed his wrapper. "Please don't die." He takes a look at the guards. "Who did this to my son."
"His wife," One guard answered, shivering.
"Where is she?"
"She flees."
The prince touches the King's face as the King lifted him. "Father, father . . . I'm sorry . . . " His mouth closed and his eyes stared at the sheltered roof.
"Oh, dear." Tears dropped from his eyes as the prince passed away. "Why me? Son wakes up please." He lamented, dropping tears.