"You wanted to see me", Milo said, being pushed through the door on a wheelchair by Marcos.
The room was a typical library room where a small wooden desk sat elevated on a platform 2 feet off the ground. Behind a high stack of paper, the King lifted his head and scampered to move all of the papers away from his desk. The King stood and pulled out a chair in front of him for Marcos to sit before quickly retreating into a back room, emerging with a small green pot and 3 cups.
He poured out a small cup of tea for both Milo and Marcos before taking his seat behind the desk once more.
"It's good to see you", he began, "From the looks of things, your injuries haven't been able to completely heal".
It had been a week since Milo regained consciousness and his injuries hadn't improved in the slightest, in fact he wagered they had gotten worse. He had constantly been told to remain inactive, but even the minute muscle twitches somehow aggravated the bruises.
