Jonathon kneaded his forehead. Endless documents swam before his sore eyes, and he sighed tiredly when familiar hands began to massage his neck.

"I didn't think throwing a public Midwinter celebration would be so much work," Jon admitted. He turned to face his queen. They'd only been married for a few months, but the twinkle in her eye was already as comforting as though they'd been together years. "I should've expected it, shouldn't I?"

Kindly, Thayet didn't answer. "Bedtime, my king. Tomorrow you get to play Mithros' jester for the children."

Jonathon groaned, but when he followed her he was smiling.