LIANDREN’S POV

A few minutes ago.

The moment my father called me to his study, I knew that something was up.

My head was down as he flicked through the pages of the newspaper in front of him.

A thick blanket was over his legs, a cardigan over his shoulder.

A warm fire was at the corner, but that could only do little to ease his condition.

“Father…”

“I have concerns. And I need you to tell me the truth,” he said, flipping the pages gently.

What sort of concerns?

I looked up ...