The council meeting began early, the hall still heavy with the faint chill of morning air. Beatrice took her usual seat beside Francois, who looked pale but markedly steadier than the night before. His fever had ebbed, though not entirely. Every now and then, Beatrice caught him pressing his fingers against his temples like he could will the dizziness away.
Queen Cecile noticed, too.
"You should be resting," she said sharply after Francois stumbled slightly on a turn of phrase.
"I am capable," Francois answered, voice low but firm.
"Capable doesn't mean invincible," Beatrice murmured under her breath.
He glanced sideways at her, caught between amusement and stubbornness. She held his gaze until he relented with a sigh, leaning a fraction more into his chair.
