Izan paced back and forth in his chambers, his footsteps echoed in the silence. His fists clenched and unclenched, a mixture of frustration, fear, and uncertainty twisted within him.
How had it come to this? Locked in like a common criminal, with no explanation, no reason given for his imprisonment. His mind raced with questions. "What had he done? Why was this happening now? What was his father thinking?"
He strode to the door, and banged on it with the side of his fist. "Let me out!" His voice was sharp, commanding, but there was no answer, only the faint sound of the guards shuffling on the other side. He pounded again. "I demand an audience with my father! Now!"
Silence.
Izan cursed under his breath, he stepped back from the door, and run a hand through his disheveled hair. It had been days, days since he was thrown into his chambers with no word, no message. "Why?" Why hadn't Dillion contacted him yet? What was taking so long?
