"I can't believe I am back here," King Rudra snarled as servants hurried to remove his coat, his irritation radiating through the room. "Every time this palace appears before me, I am reminded of how thoroughly my own blood has disgraced me."
"My King…" the Queen began, her fingers tightening in her lap.
Thankfully, they had brought their own attendants—people who understood that hearing too much was as dangerous as speaking too much.
Had it been Revhara's people… Who knew what rumours would have spread the moment they exited the hall?
"It isn't that cold, is it?" she tried again, forcing her voice steady as she sat on the edge of the bed. "It's spring. This coat is far lighter than the one you wore last time."
Rudra let out a sharp, humourless laugh.
"Do not compare fabrics with me when my son has made me a fool before the entire Empire."
He turned abruptly and strode toward the door.
"What are you doing—?"
