The next day, Marix arrived at the palace with Lord Evans. His father, the King, sat there on his throne, sitting tall and regal. Arlon sat on a smaller throne next to him, his elbow resting on the armrest as he rubbed his brows.
Marix shoved Lord Evans in front of the King. He stumbled and fell on his hands and knees.
His body ached terribly from the long walk and without his cane to aid him. His hips screamed out in agony with each movement and the sharp pain in his lower spine had only intensified.
Not to mention how stiff he felt from his sleeping arrangements. The cold stone floor was so hard and difficult on his arthritis, he had felt the chill in his bones.
That combined with the fact that his cell had been lit all night contributed to the dark circles that had formed under his eyes.
His stomach growled loudly too. That had been another thing that kept him up: missing out on his precious dinner.
