The weight of a crown is unlike any sword I have ever lifted. It sits invisible upon my head, yet presses heavier than armour forged of iron. Ten days have passed since the pyres of betrayal burned, ten days since I was crowned the rightful King. Ten days that have felt both like eternity and the briefest of breaths.

My people bow before me, my council waits upon my command, and emissaries from neighbouring kingdoms seek my alliance and strategies. Every dawn brings scrolls of parchment, invitations to reform, pleas for aid, and proposals to strengthen ties. It is the duty of a king to answer them all, and so I rise each morning, girded not in battle-plate but in responsibility, lending my mind to the shaping of tomorrow.