The music was a slow, haunting swell of violins.
Every rotation felt like they were spinning further away from the reality of the mourning and deeper into a dream.
Alex felt like Kyle's hand on his shoulder felt like the only solid thing in the room.
Up close, the King didn't look like an iron statue. Kyle could see the slight tension in the corner of his eyes, the heavy burden of a crown that hadn't even been placed on his head yet. It reminded Kyle of the man his father had tried to be in his previous life.
"You're doing perfectly," Alex whispered, his voice barely audible over the music. His hand on Kyle's waist shifted slightly, drawing him a fraction closer.
"They're staring like they want to execute me," Kyle murmured back, his breath hitching as Alex navigated them through a complicated turn.
"Let them stare. They are watching their own influence bleed out."
