For a long time, Talek said nothing.
He didn't move. He didn't blink. His fingers simply hovered over the envelope like it might bite. The sealed letter—his father's last words—lay on the table like a specter, a ghost bound in parchment and wax.
He couldn't bring himself to open it. Not yet. Perhaps never.
"You can take your time," Alpheo said gently, easing back into his chair. His voice had shifted—less a ruler addressing a subject, more a man offering understanding to another standing at the edge of something unspeakable.
Talek looked up at him slowly, eyes clouded with questions. His voice cracked when he finally spoke.
"Why do you have this?"
A pause. The prince gave him his full attention.
"Why give it to you?He bore no love for you,and why now?"
