The doors to the small morning room flew open, the royal family looking up from their breakfast. Grey daylight poured in through the windows as the sun rose behind the thick, grey clouds, a streak of light falling on the single empty chair between the King and the Princess, a long scratch on the one arm. An attendant stepped through the doors, panting heavily like they had just sprinted through the halls, their eyes darting around the room at the family as they all waited quietly.

    The attendant gulped, resisting the urge to pull at their castle-issued tie, the colour matched to their assigned wing. “Sire?” they asked, hands clasped in front of their chest. The King waved the attendant over, each one of their steps falling heavy over the quiet room. They paused, finally leaning over to murmur something to the King.

    He rested a hand on his beard, which had not been trimmed in a while, nodding slowly. “Alright…thank you.” The attendant stood, bowing rapidly to the rest of the family before scurrying back out the door. The King looked out across the table, his family slowly lowering spoons, waiting, watching. He was quiet for another moment, tapping a finger against his chin, finally standing. His large, ornate chair screeched a little behind him, one of the servers dashing to keep it from tipping over. He met his daughter’s eyes, the two of them studying each other and she could see the lines between his eyes deepen as she swallowed hard.

    Clearing his throat, his eyes still on the Princess, he announced, “The Writer has arrived.”