Heavy was the crown of laurel when it sat on his head. As the generations went on, the crown evolved into something less intrusive and much lighter in design, yet heavier all the same. Though it's now nowhere to be seen among the Lucian sovereigns in Aellyn, those who've borne the title of king remember full well its weight.

The bell sounds, and it takes a second before Somnus cranes his neck toward the townhouse entrance. Having received no visitors until now, he's not heard the doorbell before. Fortunately for the visitor, he's yet to retire for the night and answers the door in his tunic.

He's under-dressed to receive this particular guest, but such things never did bother Somnus, whose eyes flit from the plate of food to the face of his distant grandson. If he's here, Regis must know the truth.

"Hail, young king."