The palace had settled back into its usual rhythm or as close to a rhythm as it ever had.
Five hours of lessons instead of twelve felt almost like a vacation. Almost.
Chris sat on the couch in the sitting room with his laptop open over his knees, one ankle crossed over the other. The late afternoon light came in slanted through the tall windows, warm enough to soften the edges of the room. There was a half-finished cup of coffee on the table, his second or third. Hard to remember.
Rowan sat across from him, one hand resting on the arm of the chair, the other holding his phone. He didn't speak unless he needed to, which Chris appreciated. Rowan's presence was a shield with muscles and decent situational awareness, but also, he was quiet most of the time. Chris could breathe around him.
"Your blood pressure is not going to like all that caffeine," Rowan said, not looking up from whatever report he was reading.
