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Pahell sipped the liquor he couldn't even drink. It tasted disgusting. He couldn't understand how anyone could find it tasty.
"Sister."
Damia was in the royal palace. He could meet her anytime he wanted to.
'I don't have the courage.'
He felt like he was going mad.
Pahell didn't budge from his room. His loyal servant, Phillion, was dead. If Pahell didn't show himself, the nobles would start murmuring among themselves.
'I will become king.'
Pahell looked up. He could see the sea beyond the window.
"Oh, Lou, grant me the strength to overcome this despair."
He managed to get himself up, praying desperately.
"I have a mission."
A light shone from the depths of his eyes. He frowned.
'Remember those who died for me. I've walked a path soaked in blood. Phillion's blood has only been added to it.'
Creak.
Pahell opened his door. The knights outside kneeled.
"I will go see His Majesty."
Pahell donned his cloak and said to the knights. He had put on his mask again.
'Phillion wouldn't want me to fall apart.'
What Pahell had learned so far was how to rise from despair. Escaping despair was like walking...
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