Perfect white walls, perfect spacious rooms, and the servants that swirled around you seemed so... Clean. It was like the illusion of Paradise that Griffith had carefully built around you, trying to keep you in his golden cage. The young man you'd known before, before the Eclipse, before your whole gang disappeared, didn't seem like himself anymore. His blue eyes had lost all the life and humanity that had been so ingrained in your soul, but he didn't seem to notice.

"The servants complain that you refuse to eat, that you don't sleep well, and that you won't go out for walks."

The future king began in a soft voice, walking deeper into your chambers. His palm touched the antique column in the middle of the room as he looked at you with his feline pupils. He fit so daintily into the interior of the room, Griffith was like one of the statues from the great halls that had come to life to be a painful reminder to you, bleeding early of bygone days. Tilting his head the man asked.

"How do you want me to respond to this? I can't just watch you hurt yourself."

Griffith spoke politely, affectionately, but you knew it was just a facade. There was no empathy in the man's eyes, no sympathy for you, just one thing. Obsession, the only genuine feeling available to him now.