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Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve

Micah could only stifle so much before imploding.

They manhandled him, fed him, and dressed him like a doll. He tolerated the lack of privacy and acknowledged the evasive Calder. He’d felt powerless the past several hours and it only seemed to worsen with each passing minute.

Powerless and incapable were adjectives to describe him now.

It was exactly as he’d feared.

Taking the crown, or, agreeing to take the crown, left him an empty husk, a pretty decoration, and a symbol of power and unity. He was but a toy that remained off-limits and inactive. The things he’d enjoyed no longer applied to his lifestyle.

He’d never considered himself a depressed individual, yet the darkness smothered and festered, leaving him feeling miserable.

Time was also moving with agonizing slowness, only serving to exaggerate his melancholy. It was only two days ago that Micah woke up at the palace

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