The next evening, the Queen wanted to go with the King to the temple of the Old gods to see how he would be cured. But he refused and told her to wait for the good news. He was still too weak to walk and had to be carried in a sedan, his breath shallow, his body light as he had lost much of his strength.
Although curious the Queen did not insist as long as the king would be better, she felt her presence was not necessary.
When King George arrived, the temple felt different. The air was thick and heavy with the smell of burning oil and unknown herbs. Oil lamps flickered along the walls, their small flames casting long, twisting shadows. The carvings on the stone seemed to shift under the unsteady light, their shapes strange and unclear.
