251/253: It Is Personal


    The morning sun had barely climbed above the pce towers when a soft flutter echoed through the open window of Uriel’s


    office.


    Uriel looked up from the stack of documents spread across his desk irritation already etched on his face. He had barely slept. Between the continued calming of nobles, managing the aftermath of everyone losing their magic, and keeping the pce from spiraling into panic, he felt like he had aged ten years in a single week.


    The sound came again.


    Flutter. Flutter.


    He frowned. “What now…”


    A white dove glided into the room, its wings catching the light before itnded neatly on the edge of his desk. A thin parchment was tied carefully to its leg with a silver thread marked by an ancient royal seal.


    Uriel’s breath stilled.


    “That seal…” he muttered.


    Only a few ces still used the old ways. And only one person would send news like this.


    He rose quickly, gently untied the parchment, and unfolded it with careful fingers. The writing was elegant, firm, unmistakably


    Gavriel’s hand.


    Uriel read once, then twice. Then his eyes widened.


    “…She’s awake,” he whispered.


    He scanned the message again, heart pounding.


    Althea is awake. Stable, though still recovering. The King has taken his vows.


    Prepare Lunaris.


    Crowning to follow upon our return.


    Seven days by water.


    Uriel let out a sharp breath and dragged a hand through his hair.


    “So he actually did it,” he muttered. “That madman actually married her before stepping foot back in his kingdom.”


    The corners of his lips twitched despite himself.


    Without wasting another second, Uriel folded the parchment and rode out of his office, his long robes swishing behind him as


    pce servants scrambled out of his way.


    ******


    Meanwhile, the Queen Mother’s wing particrly the mansion’s balcony at the second floor was already filled with light and soft voices. Queen Mother Wilma sat near the tall windows, embroidery resting in herp, while Princess Ri stood beside her, carefully pouring tea.


    Lady Beatrice lingered nearby, reviewing a list of pce schedules her brows knit in concentration.


    It was then Uriel appeared without ceremony.


    “Your Grace,” he said, voice tight with urgency.


    Wilma looked up at once. “Uriel? What is it?”


    He stepped forward and handed her the parchment. “News from Vmora. Sent by His Majesty.”


    251/263 it Personal


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    Ri leaned closer as Wilma read, her eyes widening with every line.


    “She’s awake?” Ri gasped, a hand flying to her chest. “Lady Althea is awake?”


    Wilma’s lips trembled before she smiled, pressing the parchment to her heart. “Praise be…” she whispered. “She lived.”


    “And Gavriel?” Ri asked eagerly.


    Uriel sighed. “Married in ordance with.”


    Ri squealed. “I knew it!”


    Beatrice blinked. “Already?”


    Wilmaughed softly, shaking her head. “My son never did anything halfway.”


    Ri pped her hands together. “Then we need to prepare! A proper wee, a coronation, a celebration worthy of a queen!”


    Beatrice straightened at once. “I can handle the arrangements. The court halls, guest quarters, banners, menus—”


    “Yes,” Ri added excitedly. “Lady Beatrice, you must help. You’re perfect for this.”


    Uriel’s eye twitched. “Absolutely not.”


    The room went quiet.


    Beatrice turned slowly toward him. “Excuse me?”


    Uriel crossed his arms. “Lady Beatrice is scheduled to return to her manor tomorrow. That arrangement was already finalized.”


    Wilma’s smile vanished. “And who finalized that?” she asked calmly.


    Uriel swallowed. “You did, Your Grace. Last week.”


    “Yes,” Wilma replied coolly. “Last week. Before my son decided to return home with a wife and future queen.”


    She rose from her seat, authority radiating from her. “ns change.”


    Uriel frowned. “With respect, Your Grace, King Gavriel will return soon. Which means I will return to my post as Minister of Healing. Lady Beatrice was only assisting temporarily.”


    Beatrice lifted a brow. “Only assisting?”


    “And,” Uriel continued pointedly, “this coronation will involve sacred rites, blessings, and healing protocols for the Queen after her ordeal. Lady Beatrice has no background in healing.”


    Ri nced between them. “Uriel-”


    Beatrice smiled sweetly. Too sweetly. “Who said I don’t?” she said


    Uriel froze. “What?”


    Wilma’s eyes sharpened with interest. “Exin.”


    Beatrice folded her hands neatly in front of her. “Mydy mother was a court healer before she married into nobility. I was trained privately. Not officially registered, but trained nheless


    Uriel stared at her. “That’s impossible. I would have known.”


    “Would you?” Beatrice countered lightly. “You were rather busy sondying advanced runes and isting yourself in the archives back then.”


    Ri covered her mouth, barely hiding augh.


    Uriel felt heat creep up his neck. “Basic training does not qualify you to assist in royal healing.”


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    251/253 R is Persona


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    “I never said basic,” Beatrice replied, eyes gleaming. “I said trained.”


    Wilma humed thoughtfully. “Interesting.”


    Uriel groaned. “Your Majesty-”


    “I have decided,” Wilma said firmly. “Lady Beatrice will stay. She will assist me and Princess Ri in preparing for the Queen’s


    arrival.”


    Uriel clenched his jaw. “And what exactly will she assist with?”


    Beatrice tilted her head. “Everything you’re too grumpy to handle.


    Riughed outright. “She’s not wrong.”


    Uriel shot Ri a look. “Princess.”


    Ri shrugged. “What? You are grumpy.”


    Wilma waved a hand dismissively. “Enough. Beatrice stays.”


    Uriel exhaled sharply. “This is highly irregr.”


    “So was my son losing his powers, traveling continents, and marrying the woman who saved us all,” Wilma replied coolly. “Yet here we are.”


    Beatrice smiled in triumph. “Looks like I’m staying.”


    Uriel narrowed his eyes. “Don’t getfortable.”


    “Oh, I n to,” she said pleasantly. “Seven days is plenty of time to reorganize half the pce.”


    “Seven days by water,” Ri mused. “That gives us just enough time to prepare the ceremonial hall.”


    “And the balcony,” Beatrice added. “The people should see their Queen.”


    Uriel rubbed his temples. “This pce will be chaos.”


    Wilma smiled. “It already is. At least now it will be joyful chaos.”


    Ri stepped closer to Uriel and squeezed his arm. “Come on. Aren’t you happy?”


    He hesitated, then sighed. “I am. I just don’t trust her.”


    Beatrice leaned in. “Careful, Minister. That sounded almost personal.”


    Uriel shot her a re. “It is personal.”


    Wilma chuckled. “Then perhaps you should learn to work together You’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”


    Uriel muttered under his breath, “Almighty give me patience.”


    Beatrice heard him anyway. “You’ll need more than that.”


    Outside, soon the pce bells began to ring, carrying the news across Lunaris.


    The King wasing back home with his Queen.


    Liam Prescott