Nil had sprawled himself gently on the couch and across Avad's lap, not a care for the Sun King's personal space as he lazily hummed. "This isn't getting in your way, is it?"
In truth, the Sun-King had been reviewing some absolutely riveting text from the elderly scholars of the priesthood—riveting, perhaps, to a scholar of the old faith, which he was—but it had been a long day and he had felt himself reading the same line three times in a row before the warm weight of another human being had stirred him.
“The door is…” Avad looked up to ensure the door of his apartments was, in fact, closed and bolted. It was and though Nil had been sworn in as his personal bodyguard, those outside would at least have stopped him, questioned the man’s reasons for disturbing the Sun-King, and then would likely have made him await without while they announced his presence and inquired whether or not “His Radiance” had been expecting the former Kestrel. Avad’s conclusion, therefore, was that Nil had ascended the less conventional way, up the side of the building, up and over his balcony. The warm breeze which played with the fine, silk curtains confirmed that this way was very much open. Most Carja did not climb, so it was perfectly safe.
Nil wasn’t most Carja.
“Ahem—no, it isn’t. In fact, I find reading aloud easier with an audience—hopefully that will keep me awake.” He held the scroll up as he had seen many a sun-priest do over the years and took a deep breath, ready to pontificate on the merits of limited accessibility the upper echelon of Carja society, naming conventions, the meaning of various family names, and their histories, as well.