THE WIND OUTSIDE howled ceaselessly, whilst draftiness permeated in the interior of her rented lodging. Winter was still weeks if not months away, yet the heat from the burning hearth was unable to cope with the cold. As time flew by, the lady of Falmundth unfastened the bolt of her chamber's window, peering across the streets of Regalia. Under the crescent moon of the autumn night, the city was still bustling, and vibrant with countless lantern posts and torches, illuminating every segment of the walled capital. Taverns, inns and even residences of yeomanry were brimming with candles and lamps to boot. And among these dwellings, the citadel which housed the Interim Duke shone the brightest.
Even the commoners can afford to waste candles.
