Amadeo watched sorrowfully as Cassandra left the room. Somehow, he understood that Cassandra was not leaving for good, but he could not help but sense that something terrible was about to transpire.
What that terrible thing was, the King did not know.
Marcos had come up behind him. Knowing he was about to receive a lecture from his friend about how Cassandra was not fitting for the kingdom, Amadeo chose to leave the room. He was not in the mood to listen to his friend's complaints about his choice of dinner companions.
The wind bit at Amadeo's face as he entered the gardens. He needed some time to think; he needed some time to gather himself so that he could see straightly, instead of being blinded by his anguish over Cassandra's quick exit from the room.
If it had merely been that Cassandra had left the room, Amadeo would have been less doleful. It was only the ominous foreshadowing he felt that caused his thoughts to run hand-in-hand with agony.
Lowering his head, Amadeo tried to turn his mind to other things. He still had paperwork to do. He still had people to attend to. He intended to check up on Lemuel Morris. There were plenty of things he intended to do - if Cassandra would only stop plaguing his mind.
There was little chance of that, he could easily see.
And so, the King waited, hoping that Cassandra would turn up, a smile on that beautiful face of hers, replacing the brokenness in her eyes with a hope that could never fade...
...and knowing that such a desire was only wishful thinking.