8 April, 1369. Magdaline Castle, Islia.
Celia rapped softly on the door and announced her arrival. The voice that responded and called her inside managed to sound both gruff and yet weak.
She stepped into the apartments and closed the door behind her. As she looked out the presence chamber's large window, she could see the orange glow being cast by the setting sun.
The last sunset she'd spend with her family.
Celia felt like she might start crying at any moment. She figured the only good thing about her grandfather being nearly blind was that he wouldn't see how close to tears she was.
"Stop sniveling, girl! Weeping women make me anxious!" the voice growled out.
Despite herself, Celia gave out a watery laugh. So much for using his weak eyes to her advantage, she thought dryly. She dropped into an armchair that faced the frail old king. "How do you know if I'm crying or not, since you can't see me?"