10 June, 1370. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten.
Will I ever see blue skies again? Even a small glimpse?
Celia asked herself that question over and over as she leaned against the sill of her bedchamber window.
At least the rain itself had stopped, though probably only for a few hours. It was going to be a temporary reprieve though, given the skies were still an ugly, mottled grey.
There would be more rain coming without a doubt, compounding the misery across the kingdom.
Even Tobin had now taken to cursing out the bleak weather. But that was only because it was finally starting to impact him.
His birthday jousting tournament, scheduled for the day before, had been canceled. The grand dinner banquet had been a tense, subdued affair. Several nobles had tried to excuse themselves from attending, begging to return to their family manors instead. Many of their families' estates were struggling with burst riverbanks and rising floodwaters, as well as countless drowned peasants.
