Chapter 22
"For when you and I will find a way until you're home/To let the giant sleep this fire we know is." –Seven Days Without You, Teddy Geiger, UNDERAGE THINKING
"Your highness?" a servant asked. Jonathan looked up from the paperwork on his desk.
He looked very different. In the two weeks since his mother's death, tiny lines had formed around his mouth and eyes, aging him greatly. His hair was messy, and overdue for a trimming. His normally clean-shaven face was darkened by stubble and his normally bright, happy sapphire eyes were dulled from lack of sleep. His royal blue shirt and tan breeches were rumpled from numerous days of wear. He had not changed his clothes in a few days, so there was a distinctive odor coming from him. Anyone who did not know who he was would be repulsed by his current state. But, as he was the heir, no one dared to say anything.
"Yes?" Jonathan asked, noticing that his tone was clipped and short. He hadn't been sleeping well. Roald had been shirking his duties out of grieve and had been leaving his less-capable son to do the work.
"It's the king, your highness," the servant replied. Jonathan got to his feet and gave the servant a wary look.
"What about my father?" Jonathan asked carefully.
"He… he was out hunting," the servant replied. "They found him…" He took a long, deep breath. "Your highness, the king… he's dead."
Author's Note- short and… well, short. REVIEW.