"Where are you going?"

Leonidas asked, voice colder than intended. The dinner plate stays untouched. Silence answering where words dared not. If only he had not so harshly punished that insolent courtier of yours that fateful day, But kings could not undo past wrongs with simple apologies. Forcing calm, he tried again:

"Take a seat." A whisper, a prayer, his jewels rattling just enough to reveal the heart within—still yours, if you would only look back and see the need swelling there.