Zethar;
The guards leaving to rotate their shifts bow to me as I walk past them to Father's chambers.
The fresh guards outside his door straighten, bow and step aside as I get to his doors.
They don't stop me or ask questions. They know better than to do that.
I push the doors open, and they part with that same quiet weight I've known all my life— The sound familiar enough to feel like muscle memory.
For a brief second, as I wish to see Him.
Not just the king… But my father.
Sharp-eyed. Present. Always aware of everything before I even speak.
However, what I see is him, seated near the far window of the room.
Not at his work desk… Not at the centre of the room where decisions are made, and commands are given as he paces…
This time, he is sitting near a window. Like he's been there a while.
Like he hasn't moved in ages.
Light spills in across his face, but it doesn't sharpen him the way it used to.
This time around, the light makes him look… Dim.
