I stepped into my bedroom, letting the heavy doors close behind me. The quiet that followed was thick, almost oppressive. The room itself was grand, far larger than any place I'd slept before, and I could tell that every inch of it was meticulously designed to remind me of my new position. The bed was massive, draped in dark silks and layered with furs, a canopy arching high above, almost like a cage.
I'd never asked for this room. My father's chambers had been simple, austere, a reflection of the kind of king he had been. Powerful, yes, but also grounded, unbothered by luxury. Now he was gone, and they'd assigned me a room befitting the crown prince. Ironic, since all I felt was the weight of his absence.
I ran my hand over the ghostly black and white sword lying on the bedside table—Curses. Holding it, I could almost imagine he was still here, guiding me as he once did.
