I received a gift today, not from a courtier or a diplomat, but from the palace cook. A small, fragrant bundle of wild herbs—the kind that grows on the banks of the river back home. She said she noticed I’d left the mint untouched in the tea service for weeks. No grand speeches were exchanged, only a quiet understanding passed between us in the humming heat of the kitchens. It is a strange and humbling thing to be seen, truly seen, by someone you never thought was watching. It reminds me that power is not only in thrones and titles, but sometimes in the simple, kind recognition of another soul. I shall brew this tea tonight, and for a moment, the steam will carry the scent of two homes.