Xiao Hen's attire was not made of particularly expensive fabric, but when he wore the plain robe, he still looked like a graceful tree amidst the breeze, magnificent and elegant.
The room was very quiet.
No one knew if it was the sight of him that mesmerized everyone, or if it was the reaction of their sovereign that left them all too afraid to even breathe.
Or perhaps it was both.
The Crown Prince mustered his courage and called out, "Father, Your Majesty?"
The sovereign did not hear him, or if he had, he did not acknowledge him.
The distance from the doorway to the bedside was merely a few short steps, but the sovereign took a long time to traverse it.
He was no longer at an age where he would get excited or agitated over something; all his myriad emotions were hidden in those weathered eyes.
He stood before the child.
