I sat in the sitting room adjacent to the master bedchamber, drumming my fingers against the armrest of my chair. Outside, rain continued to patter against the window, creating an oddly soothing backdrop to my tangled thoughts. King Theron had departed an hour ago, leaving Queen Seraphina behind to visit with Alaric while he tended to urgent matters at the palace.
I sighed, feeling somewhat useless. Since Alaric had fallen ill, Alistair had practically barricaded himself in my husband's room, allowing me only brief visits. I understood his concern—after all, he had raised Alaric and knew his medical needs better than anyone—but I couldn't help feeling sidelined.
"More tea, Your Grace?" Clara asked, approaching with a fresh pot.
"Thank you." I smiled at her, grateful for her steady presence. "Any word from your parents? Have they settled in well?"
