March 1
It was a thump from the adjoining room that got Emmett’s attention. And when it was followed by yet another, Emmett wasted no time in flinging back the curtain and pushing aside the hidden panel that led into Andrewe’s room. He paused only to grab and unsheathe the sword he’d recently acquired from the castle’s own blacksmith. It was not, however, violence towards Andrewe that awaited Emmett’s valiant efforts at heroism, but from Andrewe himself. To what, Emmett could only see was undeserving furniture. The chair that usually sat beside Andrewe’s bed, of which Emmett had spent several hours reading chapters of prose to the drifting prince, laid toppled and less one working leg. Andrewe’s bureau had been upended and clothing was strewn about the room. “Your Highness,” Emmett frowne
