Julian
The throne room was emptying when I walked in.
A court official was backing away from the King's dais in a hunched posture, clutching a scroll to his chest as he retreated through the side door. Two advisors followed, murmuring to each other. The guards at the entrance straightened as I passed.
King Aldric sat on the throne, his eyes closed and his head leaning back on the headrest of his throne. I could tell he was exhausted. The King had a lot on his plate today after reports came from the south about communal crises. He's been up since the crack of dawn, meeting with his generals, and the palace was busier than usual, preparing for winter, which was only weeks away now.
When he heard footsteps, he opened his eyes and saw me. His brows rose.
