A Royal Sovereign

Chapter 16 - Trust

3rd Person POV

New York, Azur Lane

The twittering of birds could be heard plentifully in the urban center this warm Spring morning, summer approaching faster than usual.

The sun has barely broken through the barrier that is the distant horizon, the sky painted a faint light blue and violet with all vestiges of the night dissolving by the minute. Birds flew from their roosts, undoubtedly searching for food to feed their young. They formed countless black silhouettes; disappearing when they landed on the branches and ground ― leaves and grass rustling as they landed, the sound audible even through the walls.

Within his quaint study, Sovereign stirred, exhaling a small and slow breath as he regained consciousness. Morphine had a profound impact on his neural system ― this night of sleep deeper than usual. His eyelids parted, revealing the crimson irises of his eyes. He stared at nothing in particular, only a weak sense of nostalgia coursing through his mind as the warm smell of his wooden study entered his nose. A lazy look at his blindingly bright alarm clock showed just past five-fifty. He reached to the small table over the armrest of the excessively large couch and tapped the hologram, eyes squinted to prevent further singing of his retinas. With the touch, the alarm was turned off before the incessant beeping o the alarm could be heard this morning. 

Then with a groan, he sat up, one hand supporting him while the other traveled to his face, rubbing his eyes to rid them of the dirt that built up during the night. The blanket fell off of his body, allowing for the cooler air to wash over him, easing the stuffy heat that came with sleeping at this time of the year. But he wasn't the only occupant of the sofa. His wife Cleveland still rested peacefully beside him, her arms pealing off of his chest. It brought a warm smile to his face, tempting him to lean down and place a feathery kiss on her cheek; light enough so she wouldn't wake.

Slowly and methodically he lifted the covers off, carefully to not wake Cleveland with the sudden rush of cool air. With the covers now removed, he swung his legs to the side, feet touching the cool wooden floor. He sucked in some air as the feeling of his warm, bare feet against the cool floor was not a very pleasant one. Despite that he stood up, leaving the warm confines of the sofa. Visibility in the room was questionable at best, only weak rays of sunlight pouring in through the curtains. It was enough however for him to inspect the bandages on his chest. And pealing the one in front slightly, he could see that only a faint scab remained.

'Better to leave it on,' Sovereign thought, meandering to the large working desk in the study.

Grabbing one of the wooden pens, he ripped off a small note from the block that lay on the surface. With a few fast scribbles, he wrote a note for Cleveland when she would wake up. Walking back to the couch, he set the small note on the warm pillow where his head rested. His gaze shifted to his bare body, scars shown to the world.

'I should get dressed.'

And so he did, striding to the doors of the small closet they had in the office. With a soft click, he opened the door to reveal a closet lined with several spares of their clothing ― his, Cleveland's, and Anchorage's. He dug through the curtains of clothing and grabbed one of his off of the wooden hanger. Looking to the left, he opened one o the drawers in the dresser, grabbing one of the beige shirts that was neatly folded within. But as his eyes left the white dresser, he noticed a concerningly large cardboard box resting in the corner, seemingly unnoticed by everyone. 

And his curiosity beckoned him to have a closer look. And so he did, the clothes set down on the dresser in favor of inspecting the large box. Hefting it up he turned the rectangle in his grip till he came across a marking, certainly written with a black sharpie.