"How is she faring?"
Queen Mother Eliana stood quietly inside a lavishly appointed chamber within the royal castle. It was the very suite that had been strictly reserved for Morgana ever since she was elevated to the status of a Queen.
In truth, these quarters had essentially belonged to Morgana since she was but a child. Because her father was perpetually consumed by his demanding duties as the Royal Guard Commander, and by King Marconius's demand, Morgana was living there.
Morgana was currently asleep upon the grand bed, her breathing shallow as her broken right hand rested in thick white bandages all the way taking down her wrist, freshly treated with a potent medicinal ointment.
"She is resting, Your Majesty," Arges answered immediately, quickly rising from the wooden chair he had drawn close to his daughter's bedside.
Eliana cast a sorrowful glance down at Morgana's curled, bruised form.
She looked anything but fine.
