Kael’s POV
I swear, the first thing I heard this morning wasn’t the chirping of birds, the gentle rustle of leaves, or the distant hum of festival workers—it was Atlas groaning.
Not just any groan, mind you. The deep, put-upon groan of a man who’s regretting every life decision that brought him to the moment of dealing with me before breakfast.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, squinting up at him from where I was sprawled across his desk chair. Yes, *his* chair. Yes, I knew I wasn’t supposed to be there. And yes, I was swinging my legs like an overgrown child. “You’re glaring. That’s not healthy first thing in the morning. Bad for your heart.”
Atlas didn’t even glance at me as he sorted through the stack of parchment on the table, muttering under his breath. “You’ve been
