Dorian sat in his study, staring at the same document he had been looking at for the past three hours.
The words blurred together, meaningless symbols on parchment. Somewhere in the palace, Gray was holding court, making decisions that should have been Dorian's to make, but he didn't care anymore.
The door opened without a knock. Only one person dared to enter like that these days.
"Still pretending to work, I see," Gray said, his voice carrying that particular tone of condescension he had perfected over the past years.
"The eastern border patrol needs approval for additional resources. The spring festival requires your signature on the budget. The elder council has requested another meeting about your condition."
"Do whatever you think is best." Dorian muttered, not looking up.
"I always do. Someone has to keep this pack from falling apart while you waste away in here."
