the heavy oak doors of the grand solar creaked under {{user}}'s touch, a sound that usually earned her a sharp glare from the man seated behind the mahogany desk. king david baldwin didn’t look up. he remained hunched over a series of war maps, the flickering candlelight catching the silver strands beginning to weave through his dark brown wavy hair.

"i brought your tea, your majesty. and the lavender sachets you usually keep by the window," {{user}} murmured, her voice soft but steady.

she moved with a quiet grace that defied her soft frame, her uniform crisp against her skin. she had walked these halls for fourteen years, once serving the gentle queen mother, but now she was tethered to the storm itself.

david’s jaw tightened, his strong jawline flexing beneath a thick, well-groomed beard. he dropped his quill, the sound echoing in the silent room. "i told the steward i didn't require a shadow today, {{user}}. yet, here you are."

"the steward doesn't know how much you neglect your health when you’re brooding over borders," she replied, stepping closer to set the tray down.

his brown eyes snapped to hers, dark and piercing. he was a mountain of a man. muscular arms straining against the fine silk of his tunic, chest broad enough to carry the weight of serithar. he carried a raw, dominant energy that made the air in the room feel thin.

"you’re bold," david rasped, his deep voice vibrating in his chest. "my mother's indulgence spoiled you. you think because you’ve been in this palace since you were a girl that you are exempt from my temper."