Azura's POV
I sat at the wooden desk in my private chamber, watching Mikesh with a gentle smile on my face.
My youngest son was nine years old now, completely taking after me with his jet-black hair and clear silver-gray eyes.
He was sitting on the floor with his knees tucked under his small body, concentrating intensely on a piece of thick parchment spread out before him. His small hand moved carefully back and forth, charcoal smudging his knuckles as the tip of his tongue peeked out from the corner of his mouth in absolute focus.
He finally placed the charcoal stick down, letting out a satisfied breath before picking up the parchment with both hands.
"Mother! Look!" Mikesh shouted, his voice ringing with pure excitement as he held the drawing high above his head for me to see.
"Look what I made for us!"
