Shrouded Royalty

A Hunt for Solace

   Aeliana stirred as the warmth of the morning sun gently roused her from sleep. The soft chirping of birds and the distant rustling of leaves heralded the start of a new day. Though no rain had fallen, the air carried the crisp, earthy scent of a fresh morning after a light shower.

  She blinked sleepily, her cheek pressed against Merric's chest. His steady breathing and the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat were soothing beneath her. As her gaze wandered upward, she admired the strength of his chest, his skin warm against her own. Viking tattoos, dark and intricate, traced stories of battles and heritage across his muscular torso, their bold lines stark against the serene morning.

   Aeliana's breath caught as she took in his rugged features, softened in sleep—his sharp jawline relaxed and lips curved in a faint smile. His amber-tipped hair fell messily over his forehead, giving him an unexpectedly boyish softness. Feeling both calm and flushed, she shifted carefully, her fingers tracing lightly over his tattoos. The gentle calls of waking animals and the breeze through the trees added to the dreamlike quality of the morning.

  Moving quietly, she left the room to avoid disturbing Merric and descended the narrow staircase. The house was still, save for the distant sounds of nature outside. In the small kitchen, she found the beautiful messenger bird, the griphyr, perched on the windowsill. The griphyr, with its vibrant red and brown plumage and elegantly fanned tail, was a striking sight. Its sharp eyes followed Aeliana as she approached. Gently, she attached the letter to its leg, and after a final stroke of its sleek feathers, she whispered her instructions. The bird took flight, its wings slicing gracefully through the morning air.

  With the stunning messenger bird dispatched, Aeliana turned her attention to the kitchen. She rummaged through the cabinets and the old ice chest, finding a jar of sweet, fragrant jam, a half-loaf of slightly stale bread, a few smooth eggs on the counter, and in the ice chest, she also discovered six thick, perfectly cured slabs of deer bacon and a fogged glass bottle of milk.

  She set to work, whisking the eggs with a splash of milk, the mixture frothing lightly. The bacon sizzled in the pan, releasing a rich, smoky aroma that filled the kitchen. For the French toast, she sliced the bread, dipped it in the egg mixture, and cooked it on a hot griddle until golden and crisp, the edges slightly caramelized. Each slice was then topped with a generous spread of jam, its sweetness mingling with the warm, buttery scent of the toast.

   Carefully assembling the breakfast on a tray: fluffy scrambled eggs, French toast with glistening jam, and a glass of fresh, cool milk. She carried the tray upstairs, her steps light and purposeful. As she entered the room, the soft morning light cast a gentle glow. She set the tray gently beside Merric and leaned over him, her hand lightly brushing his shoulder.

  "Merric," she whispered, her voice gentle but insistent. "I made breakfast. It's not much, but it's the best I could do with what we have."

  Merric stirred, blinking against the morning light. The aroma of breakfast filled the air, coaxing a slow smile from him. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, surprise flickering across his face as he took in the tray.

"You didn't have to," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "But it smells amazing."

Aeliana smiled, settling beside him. "I wanted to. We need to start the day right."

  He chuckled, reaching for a slice of French toast. "Ah, so that's your plan. Get me fed so I can do all the heavy lifting. Clever, Princess."

  Aeliana's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Someone has to keep you on your toes. Besides, we can't survive on berries and bread forever."