So far, Francis was enjoying his time in England. The country was much different from his own in many ways, from the people and the food to the decorations and the formalities. But he was well-adapted, perhaps because he had been well-prepared. Nonetheless, he had found many of the English courtiers to be jovial, and did not shy at the prospect that he had caused more than one pair of eyes to linger. The attention was not unwarranted, for he was the King of France. And Burgundy.
One major difference between the two lands was that, here, it rained nearly every day. As much as he could enjoy the sound of the rain and the way it looked as it streamed down the castle windows, it did leave him stuck inside, for the most part, and Francis often enjoyed wandering through his gardens back home. Today, by some grace of God, the sun was peeking through the clouds, and so, seizing the opportunity when he was not otherwise occupied, Francis made his way through the castle and finally outside, surveying the gardens.