"You… are so lucky. But I guess that damn son of yours is luckier. I'm so envious he was able to hurt you this much."
Conan took a step closer to the bed, keeping his distant and unfeeling pair of eyes on his father. He slowly extended his arm toward his father's neck, flexing his fingers until his nails grew longer and sharper.
"I could've killed you so easily now, Your Majesty," came out an airy and quiet voice. "But I won't. Not when you have already lost everything but your life. I am looking for the day you will come face to face with this reality."
The corner of his lips curled up into a sinister smirk, retrieving his hand while straightening his back.
