"My lady," Mira said, stepping out of the shadows with a pewter tray. She set a cup of steaming willow-bark tea at the very edge of the desk, well away from the loose parchment.
Eris didn't look up from the page. "Thank you, Mira."
The maid stayed by the corner of the table, her eyes wandering over the strange, three-pointed symbols drawn in the margins.
"Should you not be in the feathers, my lady? Master Aldwin said the bed was your place until the moon changed."
"I am sitting down," Eris said, her pen scraping against the rag paper as she cross-checked an old line about the Solmiran seals she recorded herself in the past.
Mira let out a small, tired sigh, the look of a woman who had lost this exact debate every week since the coronation. "His Majesty said you were to rest your limbs."
