¬ Hiln
The walk to the throne room felt endless.
Fashire and I were accompanied by four officials, with guards lining the hallways at nearly every turn, which reminded me of the bigger threat we had at the moment.
I had been quiet for most of the journey. Fashire, on the other hand, had exchanged low words with the officials more than once, asking about arrangements, timing, and how long the proceedings would take. His voice carried that familiar edge of impatience, but there was a discomfort and heaviness in his words now.
We finally reached a large set of double doors, and I was once again faced with those massive guard statues I usually saw once in a while. Unlike before, they seemed lifeless now.
I knew they had always been still, but there was this sort of undercurrent of watchful energy they had that was now missing.
It had been like that since the King had died.
I glanced at Fashire, a thought forming.
