Morning arrived with paper. A lot of paper.
Mountains of it.
Had I known that my decision to meddle with the Crown Prince would result in such an offensive amount of documentation, I might have considered poisoning him after all.
No, that was too harsh. Maybe just mildly.
The Elysian Estate's study, which had always been a sanctuary of tasteful order, had become a battlefield of sealed folders, archival copies, physician reports, temple registrations, palace ward diagrams, and several documents so old they looked as if they would crumble from the emotional burden of being handled by modern incompetents.
I stared at the stacks on my desk. The stacks stared back.
Naturally, I won.
Paper had no chance against me.
Still, the sight was unpleasant enough to affect my mood. There was something deeply insulting about being forced to work this early in the morning when the sun had only just begun dragging itself over the Capital's rooftops.
