After sealing the letter with his personal crest, Alaric took a deep breath, standing from his desk. He closed his eyes, focusing his energy, and in a flash of light, he disappeared from the room.
The air was warm and heavy in the king's private chambers. The soft hum of a lute being played by one of the court entertainers was abruptly cut off as Alaric materialized in the center of the room.
"Your Majesty—" Alaric began.
The king, seated on a cushioned divan, took one look at the sudden appearance of the prince and gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. His golden goblet clattered to the floor, spilling wine across the polished stone.
"Oh! What sorcery is this?" the king cried before his eyes rolled back, and with a theatrical groan, he fainted, sliding sideways into the pillows.
