The light of dawn was a relief. Ten days in a row she had awakened late in the night, crying out, sometimes attacking the Sural, always weeping herself back to sleep. “Maybe I should just stop sleeping,” she muttered, barely awake. An aide quietly watched her from a chair, and the Sural was absent from his usual place beside her. He should have been in her sitting room, reading his morning reports. He’d joined her late in the evening, after finally finishing up for the day. Does the man never sleep? She sighed. Summer was his busiest season of the year. Farmers harvested, laborers built, and rulers schemed what they were going to do to one another in the autumn to undermine their enemies and strengthen their alliances. That was in addition to overseeing their strongholds, their cities, and their provinces. She didn’t sense his presence anywhere in her quarters. She closed her eyes and concentrated. He was off in the south end of the stronghold somewhere. The south end? She pressed her lips together.
