Are You Willing To Die For Him?

Few hours ago,

Rhygar trudged through the dark and eerie streets of his kingdom, each step heavier than the last, his silhouette a dark smear against the afternoon sun. 

The dirt and stones beneath his feet seemed to resonate with the tumultuous pounding of his heart, reflecting back the echoes of his turmoil.

His back was bent, not with age but with the weight of betrayal he carried; his face was as pale as the underbelly of a cloud before a storm, his eyes hollow—portals to a soul grappling with disbelief and despair.

He still couldn't fathom the sights that had seared themselves into his memory. 

His mother, regal and revered, entangled in a disgusting affair with their sworn enemy? The images flickered behind his lids like a malevolent specter, taunting him with questions he dared not voice. 

How long?? Why?!

The fury within him was a living thing, yet strangely, he found himself robbed of even the strength to voice his agony.