After dinner, Malvoria walked the dim halls of her castle like a queen with a mission.
An incredibly stupid, slightly emotional, definitely overthinking mission.
Where the hell were they supposed to sleep tonight?
The evening had gone better than she expected. Or worse. Or possibly both. She wasn't sure anymore. Elysia had sat beside her at dinner like it was natural, like they'd done it a hundred times before.
They whispered, smirked, kicked each other under the table. For five whole minutes, Malvoria had forgotten about politics, Zera, spies, treaties, angry kings, and the fragile string that held the realm together.
And now she didn't know what to do with that.
Where to sleep.
Where to sleep.
The concept sounded simple. Trivial. But this was not a normal situation. Nothing about their arrangement had ever been normal.
There was her room, of course.
