The morning sunlight streamed through the towering windows of the royal palace, bathing its marble halls in a warm golden glow. The day promised to be as ordinary as palace life could be, with everyone immersed in their duties, routines, and the occasional shared moment in passing.
Damien and Liam were already in the council chamber, poring over scrolls and ledgers. The room smelled faintly of parchment and ink, the air filled with the quiet rustle of paper and the low hum of conversation.
“Your Majesty,” Liam said, glancing up from the budget report. “If we allocate more funds to the southern border patrols, we might risk underfunding the northern trade routes. Have you considered pulling resources from the reserve treasury?”
Damien rubbed his temples, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve
