Vincent’s POVThe council chamber was finally empty, save for the lingering scent of parchment, wax, and too many competing egos.I leaned back in my chair, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. It had been another long day—border disputes in the west, a rogue sighting in the north, a trade agreement that three tribes were still arguing over like pups fighting for scraps. Being king meant my schedule was carved up by everyone else’s needs, leaving almost nothing that was mine.Some days it felt like the throne itself was hollowing me out, piece by piece. The council saw a crown, the tribes saw a shield, but none of them saw the man beneath. Nights bled into mornings without rest, and even when the halls emptied, their demands echoed in my head. My life belonged to them, yet the small, private parts I wanted to keep were slipping further from my grasp.Rowan lingered near the doorway, a stack of reports in his hands. “That covers everything urgent, Your Majesty,” he said, hesitating before
Last Updated : 2025-12-10 Read more