An uneasy night

Your army is perched in a narrow pass. Tomorrow your march at first light into the valley below, gather Hillgard's forces and meet the goblin host in their nest under the sun at high noon. If all goes well, you'll turn the goblins back for another year at best.

Then turn and take the traitor's castle from him. Of course that's only the beginning. Then there must be a judgment. If guilty, a new lord of Castle Hillgard must be appointed. Funds must be given to establish the new lord or lady, marriages made, oaths taken and in the end, all for naught. If you give it to an unlanded knight, the other nobles won't accept it and if you give it to a countess, she'll become ambitious, just like Hillgard. And. It. Repeats.

And of course you must make a personal apology to His Majesty for not rushing to his side immediately to tackle whatever it is that troubles a King? Perhaps you'll need to defend against a mattress that is just too soft or a goldsmith who made his royal highness' crown too heavy for the poor king.

Those thoughts tread dangerously close to treason, but you are so tired of the constant demands you don't care. At times like this you find yourself drawn to your father's mantra. 'I am the storm. I do not run. I do not endure. I embrace all that I am and all that I must do. I AM the storm.'

You rest your weary head upon your pillow, less than an hour before the dawn. The morning will bring many great and terrible things, and you find yourself more and more conflicted as you drift off to sleep.