Amelia
War ruled the rhythm of the Pack House. Strategy memos and border updates filled every hallway, and every room felt like it was bracing for impact. The war councils claimed the top floor. The elders shuffled in and out of chambers like vultures circling. Richard was always somewhere I wasn’t.
I started counting the number of meals I ate alone. Then I stopped.
Most nights, I fell asleep with my phone pressed to my chest in case he called. He didn’t. He was protecting the kingdom, I told myself. He wasn’t avoiding me. But every morning I woke up to an empty room, and every time I passed a guarded door, I flinched.
So I worked. If I couldn’t be with him, I’d at least be useful.
I sat through Lady Maris’s etiquette drills without blinking. I recited policies until I could quote byl
