Later in the day when Ivan knew there would be no one to disturb his moment of quiescence, he decided to pay a visit to his Grandmother's mausoleum, sensing the urge that he needed someone he could talk to, someone he could share half of his problem with to lessen the heaviness weighing down on his shoulders. The atmosphere that afternoon felt placid, and he didn't bother to wear his royal fur coat before stepping out of the Palace through the main door.
Approaching the mausoleum, his crimson gaze lingered somberly on the imposing black iron gate that was intricately designed with delicate patterns of intertwining vines and bats, symbolizing both life and the eternal night that envelopes the Palace itself. When he creaked the gates open and quietly stepped in, he was led onto a path of weathered stones, leading him through a well-maintained courtyard with dark hued roses that magically bloomed year round, an everlasting gift from one of the mages to the Queen Mother.
