Morning light reached him through the inn window and found a lingering, stubborn banquet headache waiting behind his eyes.
The dull throb pressed against the exact place where the rich, strong royal palace wine settled last night.
He covered his face with one weary arm while distant voices from the grand palace hall returned in broken fragments.
Royal promises sounded expensive last night, and they sounded even worse through a throbbing skull under the bright morning sun.
He sat upright slowly while the unpleasant pressure settled into its daily work behind his aching temples.
'The King offered protection in public, and then every greedy noble calculated what that royal protection would cost them.'
Fresh water removed the worst taste from his mouth, though nothing taught the headache to respect the bright daylight.
Juna waited patiently beside the common-room stairs with both ears angled backward in complete and quiet contemplation.
