“Come in.” the usual response followed when Cas knocked on the door to his father’s room. He pushed it open to find the king in his usual station, sitting upright on his bed with his back pressed against the headboard for support. It was the most activity the prince had seen him manage in the last week, aside from the one time Atlas had stopped him in the hallway outside his own room. The sight brought a concerned look to his face. Though his father always put on a tough appearance, he clearly wasn’t doing well. Whatever unknown illness had seized hold of his aging body wasn’t giving in to the treatments of the doctors. Every day it seemed to sap away a little more of the king’s strength, leaving him a withered husk of the man he used to be.

“Put your pity away,” Atlas grumbled, taking note of his son’s sympathetic expression. He gestured for him to come closer with a wave of his hand and waited for his obedience before he asked: “What do you need?”

[color=#b97703]“I just wanted to see how you’re doing,”[/color] Cas frowned. His father had always been brusque, but there was a new edge to his voice that gave away a deeper displeasure than usual. He wasn’t sure if it was because of Iris’s presence in the mansion or the fact that Dr. Emett’s medicine didn’t seem to be making much of a difference in his health or some unpleasant combination of both. Whatever the case, the prince was careful to stay on his toes. He didn’t want to say something that would set the irritable king off when his intention in approaching him had been solely for the other man’s benefit.

His father grunted and looked away. “If you continue to wear your heart on your sleeve, the people will eat you alive,” he muttered, dodging the question in a way that didn’t slip past Cas for a second. “Remind me to teach you again about the value of stoicism sometime.”

The prince exhaled and sat halfway at the foot of the bed. [color=#b97703]“I can call Dr. Emett to come back for you,”[/color] he offered slowly, trying to come up with a solution without further angering the king. [color=#b97703]“Maybe he has another medicine you can try.”[/color]

Atlas waved his hand. “I’m fine,” he asserted, even though his son could clearly see that he wasn’t. “In fact, I’ll be joining you for dinner this evening in the dining room.”

Cas stared at him, momentarily unsure if he’d heard the king correctly. [color=#b97703]“You’re... joining me?”[/color] he echoed. He couldn’t tell if he was relieved that his father was feeling well enough to eat in an upright chair or worried that he was going to push himself too far in doing so.

“Of course,” his father nearly sounded amused. “We have a guest in the house, and I have yet to introduce myself. What kind of host would I be if I didn’t welcome her properly?”

[color=#b97703][i]So, this is about Iris,[/i][/color] Cas realized, studying the king in quiet contemplation. He should have expected that his father was too paranoid to let a stranger live under their roof without seeing her for himself. He was a little caught off guard by his insistence though. Atlas had always been shrewd about wearing his best face in the eye of the public, but with his creeping illness, he was in no condition to look regal for anyone. If anything, he could more easily be compared to a ghost than a man with strength in his limbs. His skin was pale, his muscles had atrophied, and he had dark circles beneath his eyes. Every inch of him betrayed his fading health in a way that would take nothing less than a professional makeup artist to conceal.

[color=#b97703]“You don’t have to do that,”[/color] he protested. [color=#b97703]“I’ve already helped her get settled in on your behalf.”[/color]

“And I appreciate your efforts,” his father acknowledged with a nod. “However, I would also like to meet this young lady for myself. I’m… [i]curious[/i] to see the face of the tormented soul who wrung my son’s bleeding heart.”

Cas shifted uncomfortably. Though the king didn’t say it out loud, he had a feeling his father was concerned about the fact that he had become so involved with Iris just because she was a woman. Atlas always micromanaged his relationships, and he was probably concerned about the prince getting too attached to her, since he still wanted to arrange his marriage someday. If he found out about his son’s budding crush on her, he would exile her from the mansion faster than he could speak a single word in her defense.

[color=#b97703]“If you insist,”[/color] he shrugged after a pause, deciding it was pointless to argue about it any further. There was no one who could command the king but the king himself. If he wanted to meet Iris, Cas couldn’t stop him. He stepped away from the bed. [color=#b97703]“I guess I’ll see you at dinner.”[/color]

“I’m sure it will be delightful.”

Cas forced a polite smile, although [i]delightful[/i] was the furthest word from what he would have chosen.

Having finished speaking with his father, the prince spent the rest of the hour lounging in his room, scrolling on social media and trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. He didn’t know what to expect at dinner now that the king was planning to join them, but he didn’t trust the cautious man enough to expect that he would just make pleasant conversation. So, by the time the kitchen staff finished preparing their food, he headed downstairs preparing for an uncomfortable meal.