A King Walks Alone
He spoke softly. A pause came before his words again. Too much pull in it, he said under his breath
Fading fast, the picture slipped away.
It always did.
A flicker of light touched his golden eyes as he looked up at the map again.
"If I indulge myself now," he said, voice lowering, "they'll be the ones forced to endure the fallout later."
The silence held to them tighter than he thought it would. Not meant for another soul to catch. Only his own voice meeting him in the dark.
Inside him, a quiet shift took root. The chance of it made his resolve set like stone.
Unacceptable.
He resumed walking.
Quiet filled the hallways as evening came close. One after another, wall torches sparked awake, fire rising like it knew he was near. Light poured over smooth stone floors, dragging his silhouette into something thin and pointed. Footsteps rang out - not fast, not slow, just there.
Footsteps echoed, all heads turned sharp when he drew near.
