Lucia blinked wearily as the lamps in the room were refilled with oil. The movement around her broke her from her absorption of the book she was seriously studying.
The candle beside her guttered, flickered, and died, but before she could mourn its loss, a hand appeared, replacing it.
It was like magic.
That same hand came down on her shoulder, comforting and warm. “My lady, you have been up half the night. You cannot possibly learn properly when you are so exhausted.”
Talos, Lestor's servant, had been a wonderful support since Lucia’s less-than-triumphant return. He had listened to Lucia’s disjointed rambling of what she wanted to accomplish and had quietly stepped into the role of assistant. His staunch support was invaluable, and his knowledge of how a royal residence was run shorte
