Anna had grown weary of the mundane confines of indoor photography. As the Sovereign Consort of Avernon, she craved something truly iconic for her second pregnancy.
"I want a maternity photoshoot on the Devano Tower helipad at sunset," Anna declared over breakfast.
Alaric paused, his knife hovering over his omelet. He looked out the window toward his skyscraper, a monolith of glass and steel piercing the clouds. "The rooftop? A hundred stories up? The wind is treacherous at that altitude, Anna. The oxygen is thinner. What if you get dizzy?"
"Alaric, I just want one perfect shot," Anna pleaded, her eyes wide and disarming.
Alaric exhaled slowly. If his wife willed it, then the world simply had to realign itself.
Three hours before the shoot, Alaric mobilized his entire empire. He didn't just hire the world's preeminent photographer; he contacted the Avernon Aviation Authority.
