Regicide

Ren glanced around the room. While it was not as luxurious as the palace rooms, it was a room befitting a king.

His eyes glossed over the luxury on display, searching for something far more important. Where do I hide?

His eyes landed on the wardrobe. That was the only place out of sight that could hold him.

He walked forwards and opened it to see the king's clothes hanging from a line, each attire so wide, he was sure it could fit three of him and still have space for more.

With a grimace, he crammed himself into the tight place, his back to the wall. Pulling the door closed, he left a crack through which he could see the whole room.

And so, he began to wait. 

Time slowly ticked on in silence but Ren stayed focused. If it was the Ren that had just arrived in Albion, he wouldn't have been able to do it but this Ren had spent years taking blood while having insufficient sleep. This was a piece of cake.