Some mid-night scouring til your back could bear the palace stones no longer made your room habitable again. At least it smells no worse than your average domicile, with a chamberpot in every corner.
Morning finds you basking further in the delights of animal ownership.
"Give back," you repeat in a stern voice for Brute. "It will not fit you, no matter how you drape yourself in't."
The hairy fiend simply waves your tunic in the morning air and flings itself against the door to your room. To your astonishment, the wooden portal swings open at the beast's touch.
"Is there no limit to your capacity for mayhem," you groan. You're not nearly awake enough for this.
You hurl yourself out into the hallway in pursuit. You are fortunate that Brute seems just as surprised as you to have moved a piece of the wall. You're able to loop an arm around the beast's waist and lift it off the ground before it gets any further.
Only then do you notice the freckle-faced maid from yesterday staring at you with wide blue eyes—and realize that you are still in a significant state of undress.
Ah, Mornings