A tired King
When the delegation is settled, I grab Ignis's hand and drag him with me.
He turns to Tobin, always nearby, and waves him off. Ignis doesn't need protection when he's with me either way.
Finally alone, we stroll in the garden and get lost in the green maze father built for us when we were children. As we grew up, with a little magical help and tons of love, it grew up with us.
Now the bushes are high enough to hide adults.
«Come with me,» I say, walking in the familiar path.
Ignis doesn't struggle, nor does he say anything. He just follows.
Oh, if I was his enemy, this would be the perfect moment to strike. What if he follows other people like this? I'll talk to him later if I notice he is too easy to convince.
Also, in this condition, he shouldn't trust me either. He's so tired and gloomy that he wouldn't even notice if I had some ill intention.