The summons came at dawn.
It wasn't a scroll; it wasn't a message. Just a knock and a flat command from the vice-steward:
"His Highness requests your presence in the study."
I rose without a word, grumbling under my breath about people doing things at the ass-crack of dawn. Seriously, if I wasn't able to get more sleep soon, I was going to kill someone and bury their bones in the back yard under some roses.
Yanking on some clothes, I ignored the servants hovering from the corner of my eye and their not-so-quiet whispers.
By the time I stepped through the polished doors, the Crown Prince was already seated behind his immaculate desk, his sleeves composed, and his teacup untouched. His expression gave nothing away. Not warmth, not cruelty. Just the smooth, measured stillness of a man who never needed to raise his voice to be obeyed.
I really disliked him at this moment.
