Days passed with meetings that tried to pretend they were urgent when they were really just adults attempting to feel important.
Chris adapted to his old schedule in the same way that a body adjusts to a familiar weight: not because it is light, but because it is known.
Mornings became predictable again.
He woke without someone immediately asking for a pain scale.
He drank coffee that wasn't medically monitored.
He walked to his office with steady steps and only a mild, lingering ache that reminded him his body had done something monumental and was still unimpressed by his ambition.
The palace, too, began to relax.
