Dragging my mentally exhausted self back to my room after the Queen's words had worn me down even further, a maid was waiting with a sealed letter.
The sender was the 3rd Prince, Maxim. I had no recollection of him, nor could I remember his face. I'm sure the old Robby before waking up had met him, and I probably saw him at the Crown Prince's funeral, but there were too many people there. My lifelong inability to remember faces was showing itself again.
When I opened the letter, it simply and clearly said: "Please come to my room after breakfast tomorrow." This was obviously an invitation to join his faction.
