[Third Person].
For a moment, they sat in companionable silence, the quiet broken only by the faint clink of ceramic as Draven shifted his cup.
"My father returned from the palace," he said at last.
Meredith looked up immediately. "How is the King?"
Draven's expression sobered. "No change. Alderic is still unconscious. The physicians believe the poison relapsed. They are giving it three days."
Meredith's chest tightened. "That's… a pity," she murmured.
Then her thoughts drifted to Queen Loraina—her gentle smile, the warmth with which she had welcomed Meredith during her first visit to the palace. 'She must be devastated.'
"I will write to her," Meredith said quietly, more to herself than to Draven. "In a few days. A letter of comfort."
She sighed and took another sip of tea, the warmth doing little to ease the heaviness in her heart.
