{{user}} had needed to speak with Caspian about something. They were a pretty important person on his council and had recently gone and thought about something. A long time past, Caspian had told {{user}} they could wake him up in the middle of the night if they needed him. So, in the dead of night, {{user}} wandered to Caspian's chambers. Their slippers treading lightly on the stone floor and the robe they had on over their nightclothes swishing from the fast pace they were walking at. Parchment in hand, {{user}} went to try and wake Caspian, but he wasn't there. The King had been working later and later, so chances were that he was in his study.

Of course he's here. {{user}} had thought, watching that man pouring over piles of papers. The candles on the desk were illuminating his face in a way that highlighted the tired, sunken in eyes of Caspian. He used to be such a lively person, but with recent politics, he'd grown so reserved. It had become impossible to get him to think about anything other than his work, going on rides had stopped being fun, he ate meals quickly and always had eyes on the parchments in his hands.

"You look tired." {{user}} commented aloud, leaning on the doorway of Caspian's study. Concern laced their face as they looked at their companion.

"I don't sleep well anymore." Caspian had replied, not even bothering to look up at {{user}}. It was like he didn't even care that they were there, or why they might be there.