The morning after a massive wedding is usually a time for quiet reflection, leftover cake, and sleeping in.
Unfortunately, peace and quiet were foreign concepts in the Warlord estate.
I was sitting at the heavy oak dining table, perfectly content. I had a cup of warm chamomile tea in my hands and a plate of leftover sweet apricot pastries in front of me. The house was blissfully silent for exactly ten minutes.
Then, the floorboards vibrated.
*ACHOO!*
The sound was less like a sneeze and more like a canon firing in a closed cavern. My teacup rattled violently against its saucer. In the hallway, a heavy suit of decorative armor clattered to the ground.
"What in the world?" I muttered, setting my tea down and standing up.
Before I could reach the kitchen door, Caspian walked in. He was wearing his sleep pants and a loose robe, his silver hair sleep-tousled and falling over his teal eyes. He looked incredibly handsome, but he also looked highly amused.
