68Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYw1mVWo6m2CHAPTER 9
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THE FALL
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The market is in its usual chaos — vendors shouting prices, children weaving between stalls, incense drifting from the temple steps, and the muffled clatter from The Den’s kitchen spilling into the street. Life pulses loudly here, but Theron feels none of it.
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His chest is tight. His thoughts are a storm. His kingdom feels like sand slipping through his fingers.
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As he approaches the King’s Lodge, the front door swings open.
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Veronica steps out.
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She doesn’t see him.
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She walks past him like he's a ghost.
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Theron snaps.
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Theron:(sharp)
“Veronica!”
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She stops, but only to stare at the dirt.
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Cold.
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Hollow.
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Unreachable.
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Theron:
“Look at me.”
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She can't.
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Theron:
“I raised you better than this… If you have something to say, say it. I command it.”
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Nothing.
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Not even a twitch.
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She simply walks past him, heading toward The Den, her cloak brushing his sleeve like a farewell.
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Theron’s jaw tightens.
Frustration.
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Fear of a father’s pride cracking.
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He enters the lodge.
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The main hall is warm with lantern light, banners hanging from carved beams, the scent of cedar lingering in the air — but the atmosphere feels cold, hollow, like life has been drained from the walls.
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Theron climbs the stairs, passing his office door without a glance.
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He needs comfort.
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He needs someone who still believes in him.
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He enters his chamber.
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The fireplace crackles, but the room is icy still.
Susan sits before her vanity, applying makeup with quick, practiced strokes, her expression unreadable.
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Theron approaches her softly — a tone he rarely uses.
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Theron:
“Veronica won’t speak to me… I think it’s because of Metro.”
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and then Add to home screen.