Chapter 59 Cry Limp

• In the heart of Fairpride, beneath the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, lies a bedroom suited for royalty. Velvet silk drapes cascade from towering windows, framing a captivating view of moonlit gardens. Its furnishings, made of ivory wood, exude elegance. The thick, plush carpeting absorbs sound, enveloping the room in tranquility. The air carries the scent of exotic orchids and aged leather. A grand four-poster bed, draped in rich velvet curtains and adorned with intricate gold leaf detailing, dominates the room, its plush bedding promising unparalleled comfort.
• Atop this magnificent bed lies a slumbering figure, nestled amidst pillows, blankets, and silken sheets, as smooth as a whisper, cocooning the sleeping man. His chiseled features and peaceful countenance speak of innocence in sleep. Clad in a loose-fitting cream linen robe that covers but does not conceal his physique, his bare chest rises and falls rhythmically. Long grey hair cascades freely about his shoulders, framing his youthful face and fair complexion. He looks like an angel, or some other celestial being, one who has fallen from heaven and onto earth to rest awhile amongst mortals. His slightly parted lips reveal a hint of youthful innocence, while his long lashes brush his cheeks, concealing his eyes as if by magic.
• The sound of gentle knocking breaks the silence, and an elderly man dressed in black attire appears in the doorway. Upon seeing his son asleep on the bed, a smile graces his weathered face. "I see that my prodigal son has returned," he remarks, entering the room and closing the door behind him. He walks over to the bed, placing a tender hand on his son's cheek, whispering affectionately, "My dear boy," as he brushes aside the strands of silver hair.