"Sometimes, the only thing stronger than a kingdom's crown is the laughter of friends who refuse to let you drown beneath it."
I had just stripped off my tunic and was untying the leather cords at my wrists when a heavy knock landed on my chamber doors. My teeth clenched I was seconds away from collapsing into bed. The day had bled me dry, leaving nothing but a low burn of anger and the weight of guilt pressing into my ribs.
"Your Majesty," came the muffled voice of one of the guards. "Lord Riven Ostel requests audience."
For a moment, I considered snarling something sharp enough to send even my own guards scuttling away. But instead, I chuckled. Low, tired, but genuine. Of course, Riven would come at this time. The man had a sense for when I was teetering on the edge of my own storm.
"Let him in," I called, tugging a clean tunic over my head.
