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King Eric's Tale
I found myself standing in the grand hall of Windsor Castle. There was no royal dance or any sign of decoration as I had perceived on Talia’s birthday, and rather, a remorseful atmosphere seemed to echo blazingly from across the four walls of the humongous place. An unrecognisable woman sat on the dining table sobbing profusely as King Eric tried feeding her some soup out of a golden bowl. Looking at King Eric, I briskly assumed her to be my mother, Queen Margaret. We looked quite alike; her hair was reddish, her eyes a glistening green and she possessed a similar cute face with a milky complexion.
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