Back in the piano room, Duncan was engrossed in the melody that came from the piano which he meticulously played. The haunting notes of a melancholic melody filled the air, his long, slender fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys. His facial features bore an air of elegance, yet there was an undeniable sadness in his crimson eyes that matched the deep hue of his flowing dark hair.
Apparently, being here, where he could play till his fingers hurt, was his only escape place, the only remedy to the servitude he was vigorously placed in, regardless of his status as King, although he never saw himself as one since he is never allowed to do anything.
His title is merely a scam, whereas he remains isolated in his own home.
When he hit a sad note at the reminder of his life, a familiar, feminine voice that belonged to his Mother began resurfacing in his mind.
'You are ill Duncan! Don't act like everything is fine with you! You are NOT fine!'
