Those who come here seeking his intercession see a King: imperious, stern, wise.

But I see him when the door closes and he descends from his throne, removes his crown and sets it reverently in its chest. I see the weariness in his step and the lines on his face as he makes his way to his study, where still more work awaits him.

He is not a king then; he is just a man doing an impossible job, because he's the only one who can.

I stand by his side, ready to serve him. The King. And the man.