After refusing an alluring proposal whose goal was to relieve his pained face, Arthur wished the forgemages in front of his room a good night. He made sure the clink of the lock would resound loud enough for them to hear his unwillingness to have his night interrupted, which stressed them even more. They would be unable to act efficiently if they had to intervene during the night.
In one of the corners of the king's room, Arthur saw it. A gloomy ominous illness that corrupted his sight. It was distorted by a fair amount of purple and black magicules.
Another lurking shadow hiding from his sight.
He was sick of being observed all day round down to his sleeping pattern. He was never alone.
He was tired of being a guinea pig, alas he could only sigh at himself.
"Get out." He ordered while pointing at the window for the living shadow to leave. He wouldn't even look at it making its way out, his words were truth, they were too real to act against.
