The worst part about Iryna's chamber wasn't the tension or the fact that a dozen heavily armed imperial guards were pacing the hallway outside.
It was having absolutely no idea what was happening out there. No matter how often Marielle opened the windows to let in the cool afternoon air, the room still felt sealed off from the rest of the palace. At this point, the pigeons flying past the windows probably knew more than they did.
Cherion sat by the narrow arched window, his fingers loosely wrapped around a silver cup. The tea hadn't been touched. Its still surface caught the gray clouds drifting over the palace courtyard.
Across the room, Iryna sat on the massive bed while Marielle hovered nearby. The two of them were conversing in low, hushed murmurs. Cherion watched them out of the corner of his eye, silently noting that it was a minor miracle the two of them weren't actively at each other's throats anymore.
"Lord Cherion!"
