The heavy stone walls shielded the cold wind and the clamor of the outside world, leaving only the almost inaudible sound of the burning lamp oil.
Regent Prince Arlence sat leaning by the chair, draped in a snow-white animal pelt, yet his face appeared even more bloodless than the fur. The shallow bruises under his eyes resembled frost marks, slowly descending.
His chest rose and fell at times with a slow, at times with a rapid frequency.
But there were no signs of poisoning, no swelling, nor any fatal symptoms recognizable by the physicians.
If not examined carefully, one might even mistake him for a sleeping person, rather than a regent prince struggling daily with impending death.
Moreover, a new Dragon Throne Council was set to convene in two days.
This grand council concerning the Empire's future was supposed to be presided over personally by Arlence.
