Days slipped by in a blur. Prince Theron couldn't tell how many days it had been since he rejected the offer of taking the throne. How could he, when he had been drinking nonstop?
Within the Centre Tower, his mother worried about him... or rather, his delay to answer her and move forward with her newly hatched plans, while he wasted away within an apartment in the Eastern Tower. Unlike the rest of the palace, this was hidden and known only to him, Rowan, and Rowan's men.
It was dark outside when Theron stumbled to his feet and reached for the door. He was thirsty. He needed food. All he had consumed for days was alcohol. As he knocked gently on the door, resounding steps echoed from outside. Kim slowly pushed the door open.
"Need anything, Your Highness?" he asked.
And for a while, Theron stood still, his breath caught, and his eyes lingered longer.
"You," he said, pointing at Kim as he staggered backward.
Kim quickly rushed in to help him.
