King Xavian lingered in the quiet hallway outside the healing chamber, his hand resting on the wooden frame of the chamber's door as he took a moment to steady himself.
His heart weighed heavily , the once lively spirit that filled him as a ruler felt eclipsed by sorrow and guilt, and he struggled to reconcile his duty as king with the urge to remain by his son's side.
He was leaving Eirik behind in Neomenia, wounded, with only a tenuous hold on life, a thought that twisted painfully in his chest. For days, he had held vigil, but now, duty called him back to Valeidio, a kingdom that could not be left ungoverned.
He took a deep, steadying breath and pushed open the chamber door. A quiet, somber light filtered in, illuminating Eirik's pale, unmoving form on the bed.
