She gave her head a tiny, sharp shake, refocusing on his words.
"As for the preparations," Soren was saying, misinterpreting her silence for hesitation. "I know you've been under a tremendous amount of strain. If you're worried about the workload, you don't need to be. I usually handle the festival preparations myself. Even though it is technically the Empress's purview to manage the feast and the decorations, I don't mind doing it for you. I want you to rest."
"No," Eris said immediately. Her voice was firm, cutting through his offer.
Soren blinked, startled.
"I can handle it," she said, her stubborn pride flaring. "You are already handling the trial of the century, the fallout of the arrest, and the border disputes. I am not going to sit idly by and add my responsibilities to your pile. I will manage the festival."
Soren felt a sharp, sweet ache in his chest. She cares. She's trying to protect me. But the worry remained. "Eris, you still need to rest. Your seal... "
