Inside, the King and Queen of Aetherion sat together in silence. Despite all the opulence of the room, the place was dimly lit, as if something had swept away all the warmth, liveliness, and laughter, leaving behind a uselessly large room that felt suffocatingly empty.
"Haha, my joints are paining. I don't think I have done any strenuous activity today." The King leaned back against the frame of the bed and spoke while massaging his shoulder joints.
"You are getting on in years, my dear. You are no longer young like you used to be." The Queen spoke from the side, helping her husband massage his aching shoulders.
Just as she said, the King of Aetherion looked much older than he did just three months ago. His broad frame had noticeably thinned, fine lines traced his face, and he had more silver hair than before.
Even the fierce aura of diplomacy and politics he carried before seemed to have dulled, as if time had carved years into his bones.
