Alexander groaned as he stirred awake, the dim light of dawn filtering through the heavy curtains. His head throbbed with a dull ache, a wicked reminder of the previous night's revelry. The taste of stale wine lingered on his tongue, and he winced as he tried to sit up.
Blinking against the light, he pressed the heels of his hands against his temples, trying to massage away the persistent headache. His memories of the night before were vivid - his dimly lit study, the over service of wine, anger, and loneliness.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet on the cold floor. The chill sent a shiver up his spine, momentarily clearing his foggy mind. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself, pushing past the discomfort. He needed to pull himself together; there were matters to attend to, and he couldn't afford to be seen in such a state. He was king.
