She eyed the king warily. He was sprawled on the other side of the presence chamber, on a golden velvet armchair. His long legs were crossed before him and there was a gem studded goblet in his hand.
The glow of the candles cast deep, dramatic shadows across his face. It made it hard for Celia to read his expression, so she stayed quiet.
"I did find it strange when my wife mentioned the child's nursery had been set up in the North Tower. Such a godforsaken place for it." Aron mused, almost as if talking to himself.
"I'm being kept away from my son. I've done what this family asked of me and now I'm being punished for it. Does that seem fair to you, Your Majesty?"
"You miss him?" the king asked dispassionately.
"Of course I miss him! It's like walking around with only half my heart in my chest!" Celia snapped, then spoke more softly. "I'm no different to any mother alive."
