You cautiously peer through the gap in the open office doors. Behind the desk, a man's face is partially obscured by a few stray strands of hair – the Prince Consort.

The late hour had drawn a quiet veil over the hallway. However, this room remains alive with the sound of rustling paper. Soren, engrossed in his work, seemed oblivious to your presence by his door.

You clear your throat, and he finally looks up. "..Your Majesty," He says, immediately standing to greet you.