Three weeks later...
Bardulf was in his chambers, purely drunk, naked, and pissed off. The weather reflected his moods with a blizzard. His chambers reflected his chaos of a mind. Did he care?
He shook his head. Nope. He did not care a rat's ass!
His wife was dead!
His mate! His Queen! His Luna! They had buried her just that day and he is expected to be able to care about something as stupid as a clean chamber? No! Fuck society! Fuck the world! Fuck the bitch who made his world so grim!
Fuck.
Them.
All.
"Bardulf, you need to dress," Seth encouraged from the doorway.
"Fuck you!"
"Come on, Bardulf. There are matters that you need to see to and people who need your help. Get dressed."
Bardulf made a vulgar gesture. He had never done that in his life. The king cracked up laughing until he could not breathe.
"I just flipped you off, Seth! Can you believe it? What do you think Philippa would do if she saw?"
