You rest your head against the wall as you finally ascend the four flights of steps to your hallway in the East Tower.
You certainly left your mark on a few souls tonight, you think. You dare to think that the King might have been more impressed than averse to you.
Her Majesty the Queen, for her part, seemed quite pleased to know you. Lord Bisqueath the taskmaster is one you'll have to keep your eye on, and no mistake.
You smile to think of the stablehand Fletcher. You have an inkling—allowing, of course, that every connection develops in fits and starts—that there's warmth you might cultivate there.
A day like no other, you think, as you traverse the final weary steps to your room. At least it's concluded…
"Ooh ooh aah," says Brute as you enter to find that the beast, though caged, has managed to spread its feces to every visible surface.
"I'll just sleep out here," you say aloud, closing the door and curling up on the hallway stones.
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