Brimsley had heard a commotion in the upper part of the mansion and wondered if the king and queen were fine. He decided to investigate. Upon reaching the corridor, he found it empty.
He paused, contemplating whether to turn back when his gaze shifted to the door where the king and his wife resided. Just as he was about to retreat, he heard a commanding voice say, "Come in, Brimsley." It was a command that could only come from the king.
He sighed and entered. What greeted him first was the sight of the queen's hair, which surprised him. Wait—had he forgotten what hair she wore? No, Brimsley shook his head; she had always had brown hair, not...
"My king," he said, walking further in, now staring at the king who sat beside her, holding her hand firmly. The king didn't look well; his hair was draped over his eyes, and he seemed slightly weak. While this was common for the frail king, he appeared even weaker than usual.
