The quill scratched steadily across a fresh sheet of parchment. The man in the leather chair paused mid-sentence, tapped the blunt end of the pen against his cheek, and kept writing.
The heavy oak door swung open. A sharp-looking man walked in carrying an absurdly tall stack of documents, a single ray of afternoon sun through the arched window lighting his perfectly styled blond hair.
Flynn set the pile on the corner of the mahogany desk without a wobble.
"You're not wearing your crown, Your Highness."
"It messes up my hair." The man didn't look up. His golden eyes stayed narrowed on a military report. "And it's just for show. A stupid, heavy trinket."
"It's been passed down your bloodline for thirty generations." Flynn began squaring the signed pages scattered across the desk. "Is it wise to insult your heritage?"
"I'm the King. I'll do what I want." Arthur ran a hand through his raven-black hair, tied back in a low ponytail. "My father's not going to climb out of his grave and hunt me down for telling the truth."
"Ghosts exist, you know." Flynn's blue eyes slid toward him.
"I know. But my family's spirits aren't going to haunt me over a little crown criticism." He dipped his pen in fresh ink.
The office went quiet except for the scratch of the nib. Flynn watched the King's focused profile for a long moment.
"How are Lizzy and Dan?"
Arthur's pen stopped. He sighed and slumped back in the chair. "Honestly? No idea. I've been chained to this desk for months."
"Aren't you one of the greatest archmages in the realm?" Flynn raised an eyebrow. "You could check on her with telepathy. And before this pile buried you, you'd started teaching Dan the basics of mana manipulation."
"If I heard my wife's voice right now, do you think I'd last another day in this office?" A fond, self-aware smirk tugged at his mouth. "I can only focus on ruling after I've been away from her for a few weeks. She's a distraction."
"Spare me the sappy crap." Flynn rolled his eyes. "You'll make us single folks die of jealousy."
"Not my fault I married the most wonderful woman alive. Bragging is physically unavoidable." Arthur eyed the paper mountain and groaned into his palms. "At this rate I'll be in this chair for a year."
"Speaking of your wife, a letter came for her this morning." Flynn pulled a heavy, silver-embossed envelope from his coat and held it out.
Arthur's shoulders dropped as he took it. "Again? From the Dragons?" He sounded beaten. "Since when do apex dragons write formal mail?"
"Since you snuck off, married the Dragon Princess, and had a kid with her," Flynn said flatly.
"Nothing illegal under royal law." Arthur studied the draconic seal pressed into the wax, a ring of faint ember light still crawling around its edge, and didn't open it.
"Has Dan shown any abnormalities lately?"
"Aside from that day? He's a regular kid." Arthur tossed the letter into the overflowing wastebasket.
It slid back out and hit the floorboards with a soft thud.
"I think you're underestimating how important your wife is to the Dragon Realm." Flynn picked it up and set it on the desk, squarely in front of the King.
"She wants nothing to do with them. Should I force her?" A spark of real anger flared in Arthur's golden eyes. "She's happier now, without her father prying into her life and dictating it. Lizzy knows he wants her back in their dimension. She's ignoring him on purpose."
Flynn stared at him, exhaled, and dragged a hand down his face.
"You two are a problematic pair."
–-----
Hours passed in dusty files, state documents, and endless regional requests. The afternoon sun faded from the tall windows into a heavy twilight blue.
Flynn stood near the corner of the office, watching Arthur. 'He's taking the job seriously lately. Too seriously.' The shadows under the King's golden eyes had grown dark. 'If someone doesn't make this idiot rest, he'll work himself into an early grave.'
"Why don't you head home after you finish reading what the northern giants want?" he said quietly.
"Hm? Sorry, what?" Arthur blinked up from the sprawling scroll, his eyes bloodshot.
"Go be with your family. You said you were close to convincing Lizzy to move to the capital." Flynn cleared his own desk with practiced efficiency. "And knowing her temper, she's furious you've been gone for months. Dragons get territorial when things like this happen. Jealous, too."
"Whoa. Since when are you this considerate?" A tired, mischievous grin broke across Arthur's face. "Where's the cold, unyielding knight who claims to be my best friend?"
"I'd love to lock you in here for the economy's sake, but your sanity matters too." Flynn refused the bait. "And I've always been thoughtful. Stop acting like I've had a personality change."
Arthur let out a long breath that drained the tension from his shoulders. He dipped the quill one last time, set it down with a click, and stood. His spine popped loudly in the quiet room.
"I'll take you up on that."
Flynn leaned against the desk, arms folded. "Why do you even listen to me? You're the King. You could order me to run the realm while you take leave."
"Do you want to be King?" Arthur shot back, rounding the desk.
"Absolutely not. I'd lose my mind in three days."
Arthur unclasped his heavy velvet robe and slung it onto the coat stand like an old sack. "Maybe I should hand this crown back to my father's ghost and go back to being a broke adventurer."
"Leave before I change my mind and hand you the regional tax reports."
"Right, right! See you in a week, Flynn!"
Arthur flashed a wide, blinding grin, all the youthful charm of his adventuring days. Before Flynn could answer, a violent pulse of spatial mana tore through the office in a flash of golden light, whipping the papers off the desk and into the air.
When the light faded and the paper settled, the King was gone.
On the desk, the dragon seal was still smoldering.