~ Prince Goliath's Chamber
The chamber smelled of medicine.
Herbs. Poultices. The sharp, astringent scent of healing salves and the cloying sweetness of opium. The curtains were drawn. The candles were lit. The light was dim. The air was thick— with dust, with medicine, with the accumulated stench of a body that has been lying in the same bed for weeks.
Prince Goliath was on the bed.
He was— a ruin. The man who had been the kingdom's second prince. The man who had been strong. Tall. Broad. A warrior. A fighter. A man who had swung a sword and ridden a horse and fucked women and drunk wine and lived.
Now he was a thing.
