19 March, 1370. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten.
The question Celia had asked herself was this: what would it take for her to convince Lucas that she needed to visit their son every day, and so he needed to lead her there?
The answer ended up being: not much at all.
The second time he'd offered to take her through the web of hidden corridors, it had only been the two of them. Lord Da'ar had been called away to a meeting and Celia had told Lucas there was no need to drag another ambassador into the tunnels with them.
The narrow spaces were tricky enough for someone young and spry like her to manage. It was hardly fair to expect a middle aged diplomat to shimmy through them.
As they'd snuck through the dim corridors, she'd asked, "How often have you been through these spaces that you know them so well? Haven't you ever worried you'd push on the wrong hidden door and accidentally end up in the king's bedchamber?"
