"You understand that's why the others here treat you as they do, don't you? That your appeal toward their whispers is what led you here, what leads to you becoming sedated. Ah... or not. Perhaps it's not they who tell you to fight. Is it Andrew, Agnes, or<i>Charlotte</i>who wants to take my cane and use it to hurt everyone in their way?" He clicked his tongue and shrugged. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. One of you is in pain. Pain that most mortal souls simply cannot comprehend, could not bear if inflicted upon them."<br/><br/>The more he spoke the more he changed. Gleaming robes of white and gold covered his shoulders as the sunlight fell across him, and the cane most definitely was a sword resting naked in his lap. His eyes and hair were both golden and gleaming, like molten sunlight, and something hazy showed at his back, stuffed between the chair and his shoulders. He was being careful, though. He only let Charlotte see, and through her Agnes and Andrew. He suspected the nurses wouldn't have seen even if he willed them to, more concerned with Charlotte than his identity.<br/><br/>"I won't tell you all my secrets. There's no need for that. But I will tell you two things." He leaned forward, his voice lowering to a soft whisper. "My name is not truly King, and I am not at all what I seem." He smiled as the wings at his back spread, golden and white and magnificent, almost blindingly so--and then it was all gone, all faded back to a large, but feeble-looking man sitting in a faded grey robe and slippers clutching a cane in his hands.<br/><br/>"Now, it may be that we are soon interrupted. So whatever you can tell me will be good. Who are the two of them? Do you know? Do they? Why do they speak only to you?"