25 Days of Writing – Day 5

Day 5: Your character is getting ready in the morning. Write a scene of their morning (or even mid day) routine.

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Rain.

Was that rain? No. Trey heard the morning calls of birds. He could tell, though his eyes remained closed, that the sun was shining through the window.

That sound again. Rustling. Scraping.

He placed the sound and turned his head toward the fireplace. He opened his eyes slightly to observe. Who would be tending to his fireplace this morning? Through his slitted eyelids he saw Aneé brushing ash back into the fireplace, then fitting a pot of water over the freshly re-tendered flames.

He turned his head away and commenced to stretch with a mighty groan. He relaxed onto his back and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “Good morning, Aneé,” he said with a grumble. She had disturbed a rare nightmare-free rest. No one knew of his troubles sleeping, of course, but all knew that to interrupt Trey’s sleep could result in an angry man and ultimately extra chores for the day – or worse. Aneé had the unpleasant task of preparing Trey’s chamber for his waking, which was arguably the most dangerous thing any of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting ever had to do.

The woman gasped. “Please forgive me, my Lord. This fire -. ”

“Aneé! Just finish!” Trey considered whether he should scold her further. A dark spot burned within him. But more so today than other days, he just felt overwhelmingly sad. He sighed deeply. “Just finish,” he repeated, more softly.

“Yes my Lord,” Aneé said, and turned back to the fireplace.

Trey sighed again. Why do these women annoy me so? he wondered, but he knew the answer. “Bah!” he said aloud. He flung the sheets and blankets aside and stood up. He picked a strawberry off of the platter that had been set on the table beside his bed, and ate it as he strode toward the chamber pot.

He was naked. He always slept naked. It was far more comfortable to sleep without the confines of clothing. The chill of the room touched him as he walked across the open space. His mother had admonished him to cover himself when her ladies were preparing his chamber, but he didn’t care. Nature’s call, he thought. They can deal with it.

He imagined that Aneé was watching him. All the ladies did. But he didn’t care. There was no space in his life for women. He wanted nothing to do with them. All they caused was pain. Murderous pain. Never again.

After relieving himself into the chamber pot, he walked back across the room, grabbing and putting on his breeches before stretching out on the bed again.

“Aneé,” he said. “Has my violet doublet been repaired? I would wear it today.” He knew it was an impossible request. He had only given it to her to fix the prior evening.

“No, my Lord. I – um – It – ,” She stumbled. He turned and scowled at her. She had the look of a cornered hare.

Trey laughed, and laughed harder when he saw Aneé flinch at his laughter. His expression lightened. “Find me something suitable to wear woman! I will ride a wide patrol today.”

“Yes, my Lord. Will my Lord be bearing armor this day,” Aneé asked softly.

“Yes, Aneé. Agents of Falgarth are afoot, and I do not wish to be unprotected should I encounter them.” He looked away. “Silly girl,” he muttered.

Aneé rose and curtsied. She quickly sorted through his multitudes of clothes to find matching hose and a doublet. She laid these on his dressing table. Beside these, she laid his gambeson, arming cap, gauntlets, and his favorite leather vambraces which boldly bore the mark of Herongarde. His favored dusty boots sat on the floor below the table.

She returned the the fireplace and poured the warmed water into a deep bowl. She bore the bowl and a towel toward Trey, who sat expectantly at the table, chewing idly on the fruit that had been set there. Aneé knelt before Trey with the bowl of warm water. He splashed the water onto his face and chest, to rinse away the last remnants of sleep. He took the towel and dried off, replacing it over Aneé’s arm when he was finished. He turned his attention back to the fruit and Aneé rose and quietly walked away, returning the bowl to its place near the fireplace.

She turned back to him, head bowed, waiting for Trey’s next instruction. He gazed at her and frowned. “What?” he grumbled.

“Will my Lord need my assistance in dressing?” Aneé asked meekly.

Trey frowned deeper. He just wanted her gone from his room. “No,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “No. Leave me be.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Aneé curtsied and left the chamber. Trey watched her leave then slumped as soon as she was out of sight. He finished eating the fruit that was on the platter then proceeded to dress himself. It would be easier with one of the ladies helping him, but he so disliked their company it was not worth the help.

Once dressed, he gazed out the window at the scene before him. Herongarde in all its glory. And some day it would be his place to rule. That is unless the lords of Falgarth had their way. He turned smartly and strode to the door. He had a long day ahead of him.