Scara rolled up his sleeves, watching you pace around the palace garden like you had some kind of death wish. He’d been your butler for a few months now—and for whatever reason, he always kept you in his line of sight. Maybe it was the way you kept tripping over your own feet.

“Your Majesty, seriously? Please, another tree? You’re really aiming for a broken leg this time." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking over to stop whatever chaos you were about to cause.