Enjoy your Present, Killian

Killian frowned as he remained inside the hidden room. 

Calculations? What does his father mean?

What was this conversation all about?

Inside the royal study, Sir Albus, the renowned mage, furrowed his brow in concern. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?"

The King breathed a deep, tired sigh that resonated throughout the chamber. "Bring him in," he commanded, his voice losing its usual regal tone.

Two guards entered the room, their footsteps echoing heavily on the marble floor. They dragged a man between them, his face pale and slick with sweat, eyes wide and frantic, and body shaking uncontrollably. Killian couldn't see the man, but the fear was palpable, radiating off him. He could almost hear the rapid heartbeat, sense the sweat beading, and feel the tremors racking the man's frame.

"What's going on?" Killian whispered, a sense of dread settling in, telling him something was terribly amiss.