The Seed of Corruption would only grow more from this point on, slowly spreading all around his body and making his immoral feelings more profound.
No, it could already be said that the king was half way of admitting his feelings from the way he was pacing around the chamber, his eyes scanning every surface, every shadow, not for threats, but for… something.
Anything. A button from Reinhardt's shirt. A strand of his wife's long hair on the pillow. A smudge on the floor. A sign or anything to settle his wildly beating heart.
In the end, he found nothing. A wave of relief washed over him. The room was cleaner than clean. There was no sign, nothing of his wife committing any affair. It was all just a dream.
His wildly beating heart settled down; along with that, his shoulders also slumped. The excitement drained away, leaving only the emptiness.
The king was at a loss. He was relieved, truly relieved that it was all just a dream, but why was it that he wasn't happy?
