“Ha, I’m the king of the castle, you’re the dirty old rascal…Off with his head…Here comes the candle to see you to bed, and here comes the chopper to chop off your head!”
Rupert woke with a start, sweat drenching his clothes. Phew, it was only a dream.
He startled again at the turn of a key in the lock. The heavy iron door slammed open.
“Good morning, your lamentable highness,” the man in black said. “Ready for the executioner’s block?”