It was small.
It was the first thing Ísar noted once they had made it inside the abandoned tomb. It was so small, too small for someone of supposed noble heritage. There was also practically nothing inside it. Only a simple casket in the middle of the badly-kept tomb and a small box in front of it.
Yet something deep within Ísar desperately wanted him to take that box. He wanted it—no—he needed it. He needed it like he needed water to live.
He moved before his thoughts could catch up to his body but was held back by the stronger hand gripping his own.
"No," Xinghua said, the commanding tone coming forth for the first time in a while. "You're not doing that thing again."
"We need to check everything though," Ísar lamented, trying to force his way out of Xinghua's grip but the older boy was not budging.
The intense greed he felt for the box began to calm down and the young king gave up on his escape attempt.