The King
ORION Peace is a fragile thing. It never truly belongs to men like me. For a few short hours that morning, I allowed myself to pretend otherwise. I allowed myself to stand in the gardens with Lyra and Briseis and watch my daughter laugh the way she used to when she was younger. I allowed myself to forget, even if briefly, that outside the castle walls there are wolves who measure my weakness, enemies who sharpen their claws for the day I slip. But a king cannot live inside moments like that for long. Duty has a way of dragging you back to the throne whether you want it or not. The corridor leading to the council chamber is quiet when I approach it. Tall windows line the stone walls, letting pale afternoon light spill across the floor. Guards stand at every turning, their posture rig
- Writer
