The King's Queen
The King's bedroom, usually a non-entry zone for non-royals, becomes the stage for a confrontation of emotions.
I walk into the room from the balcony, the cool night air offering a brief respite from the emotional storm. "Archie, hey."
He strides towards me, his towering height and broad shoulders a stark contrast to the delicate situation. His hair is untamed, a reflection of the chaos within the royal walls, but his eyes hold a depth of understanding.
"Are you okay, little one?"
I nod, "Yeah, just trying to wrap my head around the whole thing without giving myself whiplash and throwing up."