Chapter 22
Damien strode toward his bedchamber, his fists clenched around the gloves. Tomorrow, he would have an audience with the King, who had not made a public appearance in three months. The prospect of being one step closer to this long-awaited moment filled him with anticipation.
* * *
In the secluded recesses of the palace, Damien stood before the securely shut door leading to the King’s private chambers. The condition of the monarch’s health had been a closely guarded secret since his sudden collapse during dinner three months prior. But judging from the current state of affairs within the palace, it was clear that his condition was deteriorating.
“You may enter, Your Grace,” a palace attendant informed Damien, cautiously guiding him into the room. Upon entering the bedchamber, he was immediately enveloped by the scent of death.
“Come here, Damien,” the King said, beckoning weakly with a skeletal hand.