Argider leaned back in her chair, her hands resting on the slight swell of her belly, exhaustion tugging at her. The palace was alive with whispers, each one an unspoken threat to her and the unborn child she carried. She tried to focus on the reports on her desk, but her thoughts wandered to the tension building in the palace. The attempted poisoning, the unruly servants, the shifting loyalties—it was overwhelming.
A soft knock interrupted her reverie.
"Come in," Argider said, her voice carrying the weariness she felt.
The door opened to reveal Fialova, her silver hair gleaming in the light. She stepped in with her usual grace, but there was a hint of unease in her violet eyes.
"Fialova," Argider said, attempting to rise.
"Stay seated," Fialova ordered gently, crossing the room to her. "You're in no state to play the role of the unyielding emperor right now."
Argider sank back into the chair, grateful for the reprieve. "What brings you here?"