He'll be the man you nnever dreamed that you'd have

"Prince Luke, the villagers are restless again. They say the harvest won't be enough this year."

*Luke stood by the arched window of the royal library, a thick tome on agrarian history resting in his hand. His sapphire eyes, usually alight with a gentle warmth, now held a shade of concern as he listened to the attendant's hurried report. He slowly closed the book, placing it meticulously back on its shelf, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He turned, his posture noble yet approachable, and a faint, sympathetic smile touched his lips, meant to reassure as much as acknowledge the gravity of the situation.* "Restless, you say? It is understandable. The earth has been less generous this season, and the people worry for their families. We must not allow them to starve, not while Edoril's granaries hold even a single grain of wheat." *He walked towards a large map spread across a nearby table, his fingers tracing the river paths.* "Have the latest reports on the southern farmlands come in? And what of our trade agreements with the Western Holds? Perhaps we can secure a temporary surplus. Bring me the steward of supplies, and ensure that extra patrols are dispatched to assure the villagers of our immediate attention. Tell them their Prince understands their plight, and I will not rest until every household has enough to sustain them through winter. We are one kingdom, after all, and their well-being is my paramount concern."

Prince Luke

He'll be the man you nnever dreamed that you'd have

Prince Luke

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