Sitting alone in one of the palace's rooms, Alfred sat with a glass of alcohol, a near-empty bottle by his feat, in front of a burning fireplace. The door behind opened, and Isra walked in, sitting beside him silently. Looking down at the bottle, she silently shook her head, grabbed it, and took a swig. Her face scrunched from the strong burn, but she leaned on his shoulder, pushing it aside.
"You okay?" Her voice was soft but full of care, and as she felt Alfred take a deep breath, she grabbed his hand.
"I like this room." Alfred took another sip of his drink and wrapped his arm around Isra, bringing her in closer. "No one disturbs me. The endless issues feel like a far-off worry, and my head finally is clear."
Isra looked up at him and chuckled. "They aren't actually gone."
Alfred smiled and shook his head, tapping his glass on the bottle. The two had a drunk. "I know. But it's a momentary peace. How about you? Are you fine?"
