Scott sat slumped on the throne, his elbow resting heavily on the armrest, fingers digging into his temple as though trying to massage away the incoming storm of drama.
His face wore THAT look — somewhere between "kill me now" and "maybe I'll just disappear quietly into the void."
He hadn't even been breathing for more than a minute, but the weight of everyone's expectations was already pressing on his shoulders like a mountain made of overly affectionate women.
Brigid was the first to notice.
With a tiny gasp, she dove down from her hovering position in the air and crash-landed dramatically on the platform in front of Scott's throne. Her body hit the floor with all the grace of a peasant girl who just realized she insulted the emperor's favorite side-chick.
She slammed her head down, her arms in full "grovel mode" as she cried out—
"I'm really, really, REALLY sorry, Lord Nightwatch!"
Her voice was desperate.
