Roman
An hour had passed since I sent the text message to Lucille. With my uncertainty on the privacy status of our communication, the direct order was all I felt comfortable sending. That's not to say that there weren't copious thoughts going through my head that I wanted to relay; most presumably, the words I was thinking were inappropriate for the princess's ears, especially if our communications were monitored.
For nearly the last two hours, I sat at the king's side as Lord Rowlings and his assistant, the Duke of Hampshire, briefed us on the status of small markets and supply-chain glitches.
I would rather have Lucille to myself in Monovia, but unquestionably, the Molave Palace was where I would learn the relevant and current tensions transpiring within Molave. The king's and my d
