Fawkes’ POV
I am napping very lightly in my dusty room. The pain between my eyes twinged sharper with every movement so I tried not to make many.
Hardly any time had passed when there was a quietly confident knock on my door. Mentally, I sigh. I had not gotten much rest, but it seems I do not have the time for it. Suppressing my groan, I answered the door.
Queen Annabelle stands waiting on the other side. She holds out an envelope sealed with the royal crest. I accepted with both hands and a bow.
“I will depart immediately,” is what I say. She nodded her acknowledgement. My sigh is loud in my mind. “I’ll finish packing my things.”
The queen turns to go, and I close the door when she is no longer in view. My thumb runs over the indents of the wax on the envelope and an image of Lord
