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His eyes dropping from the rain blotched window, Jamie found his legs carrying him out of the master bedroom, pulling him along towards the main stairwell. The nobleman was forced to remain a passenger as his lower extremities insistently tugged him through the building, continuing their stubborn rebellion until their unwilling subject was firmly planted on the front steps of the Rosendahl estate. After situating their quarry, his legs relinquished control, obediently standing firm as a few light rain drops hit the nobleman's brow. The sudden splash of water sent a ripple of shivers down the Jamie's body; dressed in thin nightwear, it hardly came as a surprise how quickly the cold sunk in.
Despite the frigid air, the nobleman felt better than ever. He closed his eyes for a deep inhale, marveling at how little resistance his nose gave to the incoming air. Giving his hair a quick tussle, Jamie's eyes flew about, devouring every inch of the moonlight-coated road. Every stone looked different, every roof tile foreign. Without a choking cough and an agonizingly sore ribcage to detract from the district's beauty, the nobleman released a long sigh of awe.
It had been too long since Jamie had properly ventured outside. With his broken ribs still on the mend, a vile sickness had ruthlessly burrowed into the Rosendahl's chest and throat, clogging up passageways and making life all the more miserable. Keen to recover, Jamie spent most of his days in his bedroom, pondering over historical texts or filling up parchments with writing and then throwing them away. It was mind numbingly boring, but it delivered some form of structure that was infinitely more beneficial than remaining in bed, the only thing to occupy him with being the disposal of the repugnant goo that had taken residence in his chest.
As the days passed the sickness waned, eclipsed by an unquenchable desire for activity. Forcing himself to take one step at a time, the Rosendahl slowly reacquainted his body with strenuous work, that delightful ache after a tough day's training distracting from his other ailments. Day after day Jamie dutifully checked off his schedule, ending the day with a steaming bowl of stew that loosened up his airways.
Given the nobleman's oddly cheery mood and refreshed body, it seemed the sickness that had plagued him for a near fortnight had finally been defeated. Briskly turning on his heel, Jamie strode back inside the estate, making his way towards the kitchen. Despite the moon's presence, the Rosendahl had no intention of returning to bed.
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I'll be returning from my hiatus soon, so I thought a story might be good to start things back up.
I'll be returning from my hiatus soon, so I thought a story might be good to start things back up.
