It was already the late eve of the day.
Alexander and Guinevere had spent the best part of their day in each other's company—racing across the fields and over obstacles, clashing swords in harmless spars, and as a respite, he had attended to court duties, while she had overseen the allocation of all donations for the Society of Patriots.
It was their wedding anniversary and Alexander would have had them spend it no other way.
He sat now upon his throne, alone in the vast, empty courtroom, cradling a half-filled glass of wine, absentmindedly swirling the golden liquid. The silence around him was strangely comforting, hiding him from the many lords eager to offer their congratulations. The torches on the walls kept the hall loudly bright, providing what little company they could. He stared into perfect nothingness, lost in thought.
Brand had been absent, as he had expected. He sighed.
