It had been a fantastic night, but now Rosemund was beginning to regret it. She'd spent several hours in unoccupied forest on the back of a horse, feeling more alive than she ever had with the breeze weaving between trees into her face. It had been dark, a little scary even, but the moonlight had filtered through the leaves and it had been incredible. After that, she'd stopped in Inspirro for a small dose of alcohol (she would have betted that anyone at the castle would faint if they'd heard she drank) and then won a fight. The victory had made her slightly-drunk self bigheaded and overconfident, and so she'd immediately lost the one afterward.
She was feeling the loss right now as she scrubbed the massive windows in the high-ceilinged castle corridor. A sore rib was not helping her get the job done, and the worst part was she had a million other things to do. She gritted her teeth through the pain, finished the window that she was working on, and got a start on the next one. It was times like this that she resented royalty, but of course this time it all came back to her. This was Rosemund's fault, and without this job what would she have?
Ah, but could anyone help envying the royals? She wasn't all that interested in ruling the kingdom of Sayyar, of course. She wasn't into politics. (Politics! Hah!) She was into being rich, doing whatever she wanted, and not having to do any hard physical labor. She caught herself daydreaming, glanced to either side of her for any sign of someone who would shout at her for working too slowly, and hurriedly returned to work. She scrubbed the glass so hard it practically glowed, painstakingly moved through that window, and went on again to the next one.
It was too early in the morning for there to be anyone else moving through the corridor. She lifted her shirt and looked at her side, wincing. It was a very nasty mix of purple and black. No wonder it was so sore.
A mental note: Brawl sober next time.
She was feeling the loss right now as she scrubbed the massive windows in the high-ceilinged castle corridor. A sore rib was not helping her get the job done, and the worst part was she had a million other things to do. She gritted her teeth through the pain, finished the window that she was working on, and got a start on the next one. It was times like this that she resented royalty, but of course this time it all came back to her. This was Rosemund's fault, and without this job what would she have?
Ah, but could anyone help envying the royals? She wasn't all that interested in ruling the kingdom of Sayyar, of course. She wasn't into politics. (Politics! Hah!) She was into being rich, doing whatever she wanted, and not having to do any hard physical labor. She caught herself daydreaming, glanced to either side of her for any sign of someone who would shout at her for working too slowly, and hurriedly returned to work. She scrubbed the glass so hard it practically glowed, painstakingly moved through that window, and went on again to the next one.
It was too early in the morning for there to be anyone else moving through the corridor. She lifted her shirt and looked at her side, wincing. It was a very nasty mix of purple and black. No wonder it was so sore.
A mental note: Brawl sober next time.