February 6
“Emmett.” His father’s voice woke him from slumber and Emmett growled into the pillow. A knock resounded through the tiny room. “Emmett?”
“What?” Emmett didn’t even lift his head to check the sun through the window. He’d been up too late the previous night, reliving royal moments with his own thoughts—thoughts that had refused to leave his mind until he finally gave in and relieved the pressure with his own hand.
“I need you to rise and meet me in the eating space. We need to discuss some…things.” Emmett heard the catch in his father’s speech and opened his eyes with a frown. His father did not normally let hesitation mar his words.
He lifted himself with a grunt and a wince, stretching muscles into mobility. “Aye. Let me dress.”
The weather was changing, Emmett noted as he
