"Get out," the king repeated softly. He did not reject or disdain her. After all, their marriage had been decent over the years.
He did not want to talk much now, as it took too much energy. "When it's time to settle my affairs, I will... I will notify you all to come back. I want some peace and quiet these days."
His tone contained helplessness and pleading.
"Alright," Catherine said as tears rolled down her face. She glanced at Rowan's profile, then slowly turned around and left sorrowfully.
Almost everyone was blinded by the illusion that the king wanted to chat with Prince Louis, whom he had not seen for years, during the final moments of his life.
But that was not the case. The king wanted to hand over duties to him and cooperate with his medication. No matter who it was, there was an innate will to survive.
Hearing Catherine's footsteps fade away and the door close, the room became completely quiet. It was about a minute before the king slowly opened his eyes again. He was still weak, but the pain had subsided significantly.
What he saw was his son sitting on the edge of the bed. He had grown tall and matured into a handsome adult. The king sighed at how time flew.
Father and son's gazes converged and lingered... in silence.
Rowan's eyes brimmed with tears and his heart ached as if torn. Regret, anxiety, impatience... various complex emotions intertwined in his heart.
"Father, I'm sorry..."
"Those words are meaningless... don't say any more," the king interrupted.
"You must persevere and have a strong will to survive," Rowan said encouragingly. "I already have the antidote, although there is only one bottle. But I will figure out the second bottle very soon."
"Who do you think... the culprit is?" The king was really weak and had to pause to catch his breath even to say a complete sentence.
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