Ramses,
The king dropped to his bed, his breathing heavy and head unclear. he gritted his teeth when his head pounded.
He tried to rub his temples to ease the pain that assaulted him, but all it did was make him angry.
He thought that what the god had might take away all the pain, but still; he had some traces of it.
It might have been the case for the first two weeks, but now it has become unbearable.
Does this mean that his illness is getting worse? He thought he might have more time.
He must fight this sickness. He must bear it for the sake of his beloved and his son.
The doors opened, and his advisor entered with the doctor who has been treating him in secret.
The king accepted the tonic, and the doctor looked at him with pity and sadness in his eyes.
But the king smiled and send him off, he can't bear that look in his eyes and he can't cure him, so it was useless.
"How are you faring, my king?"
