Outside one of the side palaces, King Theron tried his best to be calm. After the pandemic had spread, he had requested for his aged parents to stay within the palace premises rather than the remote Crystal Palace in order to provide them with better care.
"Father, how are you feeling?" he asked his father as soon as he entered the bedchamber. The room was arranged to have the bed isolated from the rest of the room, with the incense carrying the scent of herbs in order to keep the air purified. The physician gave him something to cover his nose, and he wasn't allowed to go nearer the patient.
Even from a distance, King Theron could see the weakened old man resting in the middle of the large bed with a pale sickly complexion, his skin yellowish with blots of purple.
'This damned plague!'
He felt bad for his father and even more for his kingdom that was suffering, and yet, he could not do anything to save anyone.
