Breathing a sigh of relief, he thought to himself, "Who would consider me a murderer if I spent all these days in prison...That's it... Now I can finally rest." With that, he settled down for a much-needed nap.
The night sky was awash with stars and Darian was caught in the throes of a fever dream, the last trace of a passing concussion. As his vision cleared, blurred figures began to take shape, and sounds into voices.
"You killed your king, Darian," he heard a familliar soft woman's voice. It echoed in his mind, louder than before, and suddenly the fog of his dream lifted. Darian found himself in mother's chambers, staring at Queen Nymira herself. Her hair was loose and tousled, cascading over her shoulders in waves, and she wore only a light robe that barely covered her figure and bre
