A frown crossed Marius’s face, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a knock at the door. "Come in," he called, hastily pulling on a shirt. He began to button it up as the door flew open and Thalia rushed in. She wasn't yet dressed in the royal gown she would wear for the Coronation; instead, she was wearing a simple violet dress that clung to her every curve, and Marisol was reminded all over again of how much her baby had grown.

"Good morning, darling," she said, extending her arms for a hug. Thalia fairly flew into them, clinging to her mother tightly for a good minute. It was a ritual that they had never failed to complete since the fall of the Dark Empire.

"Good morning, Mama," Thalia said, her voice muffled by her mother's shoulder. She pulled away at last and turned to throw herself at Marius. "Good morning, Papa."