Tests
Lying back, deeply nested underneath silken sheets, the head of the house closed his eyes at last. It had been a long day of hard work, and the council meetings ran long. But just when he was just about to embrace sleep, he heard the faint click of the door. He groaned, annoyed and authoritative. “And who dares to interrupt my sleep?”
A minute of silence, and for a moment, the lord thought he imagined the noise. ‘Gods know I am tired enough for my imagination to run loose’ he thought. But then a faint voice resonated, barely above a whisper: “It is just I, my lord, a humble servant! I am here only to bring you the news...”
It was the damned serving boy, the head maid’s bastard. Merely six years old, with unwashed blond hair and rags that have seen better days. With one glance at the pitiful servant, he sighed, and rose up.
A Baron’s work never ends, it seems.