The morning after the Council meeting felt like being trapped in a block of amber. The sun came up over Arboris, but the light got filtered through the thick, golden leaves of the Mother Tree, making weird, stretched shadows in the royal bedchamber. Soren stayed on the glass palanquin, his six-foot-tall frame feeling extra heavy. The "Iron Hunger" was now a constant, dull throb in his bones, reminding him that the triplets weren't just guests in his body anymore, they were actually shaping it from the inside out.
Soren was well aware of the reason for his weakness. Not only was he pregnant with triplets, but the babies were also building a shell for their own shield after Soren gave birth to all three. He knew that well, but he never imagined he would struggle so much just because of an egg shell.
