Kal's voice carried a note of urgency. Karman's head steward looked at him with some confusion before answering respectfully.
"He's in his bedroom."
Kal smoothed back his disheveled hair. Now that he thought of it, this disordered state was unlike Kal at all — he always kept himself immaculately composed, whether it was night or dawn.
"How long has he been in his bedroom?"
"About two hours now."
Kal pressed his lips together. This was a sweet rest granted to Karman after several sleepless days. Should he disturb it, or not?
Kal thought it over briefly and reached a conclusion.
"Open the door."
The head steward followed Kal's instruction. When it came to anything concerning Karman, no one understood better than Kal. If any problem arose from this, the responsibility would fall on Kal, not on him.
"I'll show you straight to the drawing room."
Still, one…
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