The day had grown long, and as the sun slipped toward the western rim, a sense of weariness settled over the company. Kathy, her gaze soft but earnest, pressed a hand to her stomach—a gentle signal that hunger had caught up to her, as it does to all who travel far and ponder deeply.
King Frances, ever observant, noticed Kathy’s silent distress. A subtle sigh escaped him, not of disappointment but recognition; he saw, in the faces around him, a universal need for sustenance and respite. “It seems,” King Frances declared, voice resonant yet kind, “that we all could use a bite to eat and a moment to rest. Let us not embark on any grand schemes until our bodies are restored and our spirits refreshed.”
The company murmured in agreement, and the air became infused with anticipation—food, rest,
