After Becky withdrew, the living room was silent for a few seconds.
Then footsteps were heard, very slow, very heavy, each step seemed to take all the strength of the person walking.
The Earl of Dalmo appeared at the door, leaning against the door frame, his face frighteningly pale, his lips almost devoid of color.
Yet his eyes were astonishingly bright, as if there were two flames burning within them.
He glanced around the room, his gaze swept over Eld's face, and finally rested on Arthur.
Arthur quickly stood up, "Your Excellency."
Dalmo did not reply; he limped into the room, Eld wanted to step forward to assist but was stopped by Dalmo's raised hand.
He walked up to Arthur and stopped, then extended his hand, "Still alive?"
Arthur lowered his head to look at that hand, the knuckles distinct, slightly trembling, unclear if from anger or if his illness was severe.
He took that hand, the two hands clasped, one rough with calluses, the other thin and bony.
"Still alive."
