Loreen's POV
Loreen took a deep breath before he sat on the throne, his movements slow, careful, as if he was afraid the seat would reject him if he moved too quickly.
He had been trained all his life for this, yet nothing prepared a son for his father's inability to function.
It was the first time he had ever sat on the throne, and never, not even in his wildest thoughts, had he imagined it would happen like this or this soon.
The weight of what this meant settled on him almost at once, heavy and cold. As much as he argued with his father, as much as they clashed over decisions and duty, over what had happened in the past, Loreen had never wished for this.
He did not want the king to die. His father was the only family he had left, and the thought of losing him pressed hard against his chest.
He swallowed and lifted his gaze slowly.
The hall was filled with eyes, all fixed on him. Some were concerned, some were careful, and others were far too calculating for his liking.
