Three days passed and on the morning of the fourth there came a knock on the door that pulled me from uneasy sleep.
A lumbering man with thick arms like trees and hard eyes, came inside followed by the still gracefulness of the king.
I sat dumbfounded against the now warmer walls of my corner as this mountain started speaking. I could understand every beautiful word from his scarred lips.
“The king has been making changes. You will no longer be executed.”
Follows the post Isolated