She Never Changes
Adrian sat at a table near the edge of the hall, his plate adorned with a modest selection of food. Despite his exhaustion, the demands of etiquette had chained him here. At first, the conversation had been tolerable—curious nobles and officials congratulating him on his victory, expressing awe at his battle prowess, or making subtle overtures to forge alliances.
But as the night wore on, the steady stream of well-wishers became grating. Nearly everyone in the hall seemed determined to speak with him, each approach blurring into the next.
"Adrian, you were marvelous!"
"Lord Lighthaven, we must discuss your future endeavors."
"Adrian, a word about the academy's exam—"
He forced polite smiles and responded with measured grace, but internally, he was stewing.
'Why didn't I just claim I was too injured to attend? They would have understood, but no—I had to be here.'