The great wave hadn’t only brought literally pressure from being under the sea when it came. It brought pressure from having to live in tight corners with every other person in the capital who was still alive, with minimal chance to get out and away from anyone. The halls were crowded and privacy seemed to be difficult to come by unless she holed herself up in her room. As bad as it was, Ciara knew she didn’t have the worst of it. She didn’t have to deal with the complaints and repercussions of this disaster.

Ciara squeezed through the corridors, attracting the normal looks from the crowds. She’d long since stopped noticing the hungry looks in peoples’ eyes when they looked at her. They weren’t important. Getting to and from the cellar was, and finding the perfect bottle of the strongest wine she could find. About fifteen minutes into her search, a kitchen runner and scullery maid entered as well, and Ciara took that as her cue to excuse herself, two bottles in her hands. The maid scowled as her would-be paramour got distracted, but Ciara didn’t stick around to see the ending to that drama. Instead, she wound her way back to the private suites and winked at the guards to let her through.

She figured it was close enough to quitting time that she wouldn’t have to wait long to surprise the king, but, after setting out glasses, took a seat on his bed to wait.