He sat by the window.

A book.

He was looking over the words, but they weren't registering.

He was noticing the texture of the pages. The book was old, the color of the paper changing. There was an odor to it that reminded him of dusty libraries from his youth.

He was at home now. No use being out in this weather.

This was supposed to be his time to relax, to catch up on what he had been missing. Yet somehow he found it difficult to focus.

The cat pattered into the room and gave him a disdainful look. That made him smile.

He only pretended to feel threatened by the cat, but they were old friends. Or maybe just acquaintances. He wasn't quite sure where their relationship really stood.

For some reason, it reminded him of a shirt he had sent in and still needed to pick up. It was a nice quality garment given him by Lady Raye, but the fit wasn't quite what he wanted, so he sent it in for some alterations.

He couldn't go today though. Not with roads in their present condition. He would have to wait for the sun to be back a few days if he wanted to take the cart. Earlier if he wanted to risk horseback.

Then he remembered his page again, and his vision returned from his mind's eye, to the ones looking at the book before him.

"It's no use," he thought to himself, "I'm not going to be able to get anything done today."

He got up and walked out into the darkened hallway. Such a shame to be leaving the window, and the water streaking down its external cheeks.

"Evening m'lord," said a servant as he passed.

Is it really that late already? How long had he been staring at that page?

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