The roof of the Great Hall was finally closed, a massive expanse of ironwood beams and slate that smelled of resin and hard work. It was the first 'finished' room of the palace, and despite the dust still settling on the limestone floor, it felt like a cathedral.
I stood at the far end, my back to the new fireplace, feeling less like a Queen and more like a woman who desperately needed a nap. But today wasn't about my sleep schedule.
"Everyone ready?" I whispered, adjusting the collar of my own wool tunic. "No barfing. No crying. And for the love of the West Way, Noah, stop trying to make Phina howl. She sounds like a dying bird."
Noah, standing to my left with Phina tucked into the crook of his arm, gave me a cheeky wink. "She's practicing her victory cry, Little Tiger. Get used to it."
