Regardless of what happens in the world, time keeps moving forward. Alaric opens the curtains a little wider, letting the early morning rays of light into the room. Not enough to be blinding or uncomfortable in case Lenore's eyes are sensitive when—if—she wakes up. Just enough to brighten the room, as if the sun can chase away the shadows of fear.
Waiting is unbearable. He hasn't heard anything about the investigation since the emperor's visit in the middle of the night. There have been no updates from the physicians since they gave the poisoned nobles a remedy to stabilize them in order to buy time for a proper antidote to be created. He doesn't know when—if—an antidote will be finished.
