Thales walked alone through the corridor of Renaissance Palace, each Everlasting Lamp passing by his side, casting his face into an interplay of light and shadow.
Along the way, guards and servants alike saw him and could not help but show complex emotions, keeping their distance.
But Thales did not care.
All he did was take a step forward, press a paving tile underfoot, drag it behind him, and then step forward again, repeating the cycle.
Ahead was darkness, cold and narrow.
And where was he heading?
Where should he go?
Where?
"Your Highness?"
A familiar voice came over, and Thales's footsteps halted.
He turned around, looking back from the darkness and the cold, revealing a gentle smile and nodding lightly.
"Gilbert, I thought you had left first."
The Minister of Foreign Affairs, leaning on his cane, came before Thales and bowed to the prince meticulously and respectfully.
Just like when they first met.
"You know I would never leave," he said.
