A great silence descended on the garden as Richard looked at Kyra. Elveria, the king corrected himself; the Soul of magic was no more than a vessel for the Sacred of truth at that time.
Elveria looked back at Richard curiously through glowing bright green eyes. It was almost as if she had an expectation of him; like to charge at her or some other thing like that, which wasn't that far from the king's mind, truth be told.
But Richard didn't do anything at the end. Instead he averted his gaze when it became too much for him to look at Kyra while she was under the influence of another; it reminded him too much of another time that he would rather not think about.
"Please, can you let Kyra go and we can talk face to face?" he finally asked; more like pleaded actually.
"Of course," Elveria
