Nearly two weeks had passed since the distribution of the Moon Crystals. The excitement surrounding the decision had gradually faded, replaced once more by the quiet rhythm of everyday governance.
The capital remained busy despite the cold. Merchants wrapped themselves in thick cloaks as they sold winter goods along the market streets, children ran through the snow-covered plazas laughing without care, and soldiers continued their patrols with little more than a light dusting of snow upon their shoulders.
Life had not stopped because history had been made. For Atheline, that realization had become one of the greatest lessons of becoming king.
Not every day required a battle, most days simply required showing up. His mornings had settled into a routine.
He woke before sunrise, long before the palace corridors became busy. The white fox had somehow learned exactly when he awoke.
