Astoria

t h i r t y - f o u r

The next morning, Antony woke to find the sun streaming through the window. He had slept much better than he had since the first night he had spent in king's palace.The only after-effect of his ride through the rain of the night previous was a slightly sore throat. Other than that, he felt perfectly fine.

He made his way to his office, foregoing breakfast, to work on the piles of paperwork that had grown on his desk during his absence in Jurmala.

Entering the spacious room, he pulled the drapes back from the window to let in the sunlight and sat down before his desk. He moved a few papers to the side and pulled out the map of Astoria that he kept in his top drawer.

Opening the map, he used the piles of paperwork to hold down the corners so he could clearly see the entire parchment spread.

He frowned as he took his pen and dipped it in red ink, making marks on the few border towns, including Jurmala, that had seen activity from the unknown group of people that Astoria had, for now, branded as rebels. After a few moments, he also marked the town where they had encountered the looters near the beginning of their journey. Perhaps there was some connection. At the least, they couldn't count it out as a possibility.

He leaned back in his desk chair and ran a hand through his hair, the red marks on the map standing out harshly against the tan paper.

He was startled by a soft knock on the door. He sat up a bit straighter and rolled the map back up, placing it back in the drawer he had pulled it from.

"Come in," he said, simply, retrieving one of the stacks of documents that sat near the edge of his desk.

The door opened and Meredith entered, bearing a tray of breakfast items.

"You're bringing me breakfast now?" Antony said, raising his eyebrows. "What about Isabella?"

"I brought hers earlier," she said, bringing the tray to his desk. "When I returned to the kitchen, Ramona insisted that I bring you some breakfast as well so...here I am."

"Thank you," he said, nodding to her and reaching, first, for the cup of coffee that came with the breakfast tray.

"How are you this morning?"

He watched her thoughtfully over the rim of the cup as he took a small sip. He finished and set it down on the desk. "Better," he finally said. "Thank you for asking."

"That looks like...a lot of paperwork," she said, after a few miniutes of awkward silence.

"Yes...Quite the 'welcome home', isn't it?"

She chuckled softly.

"That and I have my first sitting for that blasted portrait this afternoon..." He frowned in frustration, already imagining the long hours of sitting on the throne, keeping a straight face, and wearing the heavy crown and the royal cloak and what-not.

"What portrait?" she inquired, curiously.

"They need a new one for the portrait hall downstairs," he said, as though annoyed by the fact. He took his pen and signed one of the papers before him.

"Well, they couldn't have their most recent picture of the king be him as a mere child, now could they?"

"Perhaps not," he muttered. "The process, however, I'm not looking forward to."

"Understandable," she said. "I'm sure if you asked, Isabella would keep you company for a while. She was just remarking the other day that she feels as though she hardly sees you anymore."

He frowned. "I feel terrible...I've been so busy and so caught up in my own worries and problems, that I've been ignoring my cousin."

"I think she understands," said Meredith. "I know she worries about you. She doesn't hold it against you that you're pre-occupied." She paused. "Now," she said. "Eat your breakfast. I have to leave."