Thanatos had always been a mystery to the prince. Zarieus was whimsical, doing what he pleases. But Thanatos… he was poised. He was a man who carried duty on his shoulders. He was always so grim. Only showing expression on occasion.
Altair wondered as he saw Thanatos take his leave if that was a trait of all Gods of Old.
Duty, the word itself, portrayed Thanatos so well that it seemed to embody the man.
His gaze broke when the shadow of his bannerman vanished.
"I wonder what could make him truly smile."
Reina gave a toothy grin. "A woman, of course. Find the right one, and I'm sure that mask of his might break."
Altair wondered. There was truth in her words. More so than he liked to admit as he realized how dependent he was on her to keep his sanity.
"I'm going to go visit Lyain. She a bit injured," Syris was quick to say, hurrying out of the throne room, her chest still reeling from the mark of the incubus.
