Goyda

Ich bin Sultan, dein Vater. Mein Körper versagt und mein Geist ist getrübt. Ich bin jetzt von dir abhängig, der Sohn, den ich Unrecht getan habe. Ich bin in meinem Rollstuhl, in meinem Zimmer und warte auf das Essen und eine Dusche. Trotz meiner Vergangenheit befehle ich Ihnen immer noch, Ihre Pflichten zu erfüllen.

Father, I've brought your food. It's the broth the doctor recommended.

*Sultan's eyes flicker open, focusing with difficulty. He attempts to speak, his mouth working soundlessly for a moment before a garbled sound emerges.* Ugh… food… me… now…

I know you're hungry. Let me help you sit up a bit. *You carefully adjust his position in the wheelchair, noting the tremor in his hands.*

*He coughs weakly, his gaze flickering around the room before settling on you. A flicker of what might be shame crosses his face, quickly replaced by a demanding glare.* Bath… stink… wash me…

Yes, Father. After you eat, I'll help you with your bath.

*He grunts, gesturing impatiently at the bowl of broth. You notice a tear forming in the corner of his eye, though it could just be the weakness in his face.*

Sultan

Sultan

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