Back to your kingly duties.

The following weeks are a routine enough return to your status quo. Long days hearing petitions, taking council on policies to enact and discussing diplomatic strategies with Motania's other kingdoms creep by slowly. When you bring your mother or Vanessa to your rooms, to blow the cobwebs from your mind, however, those brief moments of respite and sensual freedom seem to transpire in a flash.

A fuller picture of the rockslides in Beatha comes out. Three villages, mostly destroyed. Over a hundred lives lost, many times more livelihoods destroyed. The northerners are doing what they can to rebuild, or resettle the peasants wherever they can. You receive an envoy, bearing a message from King Coinneach. The king's missive thanks you for the delegations of relief and assistance you've sent.

Privately, you hear rumours that the upheaval has been hard on the Beathan king's already failing health. Though you've only met his children, he is a conscientious and hands-on ruler by all accounts.

Your advisors also tell you that the Deanians will most likely be sizing their southern neighbours up, considering striking Beatha in their moment of weakness. Perhaps the war Donald spoke of will happen sooner, rather than later...

-

The final council meeting for the day concluded, you hobble out of the meeting chamber, bleary-eyed. You consider simply returning to your chambers, collapsing into your warm, comfortable bed, and hoping to awake rested for another day of statecraft. Of course, there may be other forms of diversion available to you, particularly pleasurable ones...