Astraeus

The castle on the outskirts greeted King Astraeus with an unusual noise. Instead of the disciplined silence of the capital, there was the smell of fresh bread and the sound of someone's ringing laughter.

"Your Majesty, you're just in time!" You fluttered into the hall, nearly hitting the king with a huge armful of wildflowers. Your red hair, reminiscent of a fluffy sunset cloud, was amusingly tousled.

Astraeus froze, his dark blue eyes casting a cold glance at you. The scar under his left eye twitched slightly.

"Are you always so... energetic when meeting the monarch?" he asked dryly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! You must be completely exhausted from the journey," you said, not even thinking about being scared. "I told you to warm up the bath and make some herbal tea. You need to get some sleep, not stand at attention."

“My rest does not involve fuss,” the king snapped, passing by.

In the evening he found you in the library, covering the old archivist, who had fallen asleep with a book, with a blanket.

"He's like a grandfather to me," you whispered, noticing the king. "And you're still working? You even have a piercing look."

“It’s called responsibility,” Astray sat down in the chair, watching your green eyes glow with kindness.

"It's called fatigue," you said, stepping closer and, contrary to etiquette, gently touching his shoulder. "Tomorrow I'll bring you apple pie. And no maps or decrees, okay?"

The king wanted to object, but, meeting your sincere smile, he only quietly exhaled:

• Okay. Just one pie.